Inked Lips

A Monsoon of Words: Boom.

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 02:46:51 -0400

There is laughter in the lining of our skin- we are intact. The sun draws up a curtain of clouds and lets us shine instead. We are infinite, not knowing where we end, our bodies spilling into each other, our eyes magnetising our smiles- we are alive. In this world full of rust, we are steel. In…

A Monsoon of Words: lost

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 02:45:01 -0400

A Monsoon of Words: lost :

alfaazkibarsaat:

when did sadness become a secret
we have to hide behind plastic smiles
and blow-dried eyes just so they don’t think
we’re fucked up and out of our minds?

when did the pronoun after ‘I love’
become more important than the sentence itself?
how many teenage poets are changing hims to hers
and hers…

Left overs are the worst. But you’re my favorite dish. Over, over, over flow for me. Give me...

Mon, 13 May 2013 23:56:00 -0400

Left overs are the worst. But you’re my favorite dish. Over, over, over flow for me. Give me all that’s left.

Story

Sun, 12 May 2013 23:06:55 -0400

We met in a gay bar

His parents story starts with darts and bars.
My parents story starts with bibles and heavy lifting.
This is our story.

I met him in a gay bar.
Where the regulars are anything but. The place where urban dictionary comes to be inspired. Where the men are queens and gaga is king. The place where marriage is cheersed with blue hawaiians; as is the prospect of numerous variations of bringing ‘that bitch’ (dude or betty? Could be either here) home. The place, that for all intentions and purposes, is the setting for the time labeled ‘once upon’. My bar tending prince charming I could have never anticipated waited for me without knowing he was waiting. In fact he was done waiting, and I was busy dating a guy who thought bowling was a good time.

Can I get a ‘you can’t hurry love, you’ll just have to wait.’? Can I get a ‘things happen when you least expect them.’?

“Can I get a vodka soda?” I said over the constant womp womp of the pop meets techno meets dubstep meets 80srockbalads meets mocha michael jackson that streamed from the speakers. My one drink after work turned into four as my coworker Dan and I danced the night away amongst male strippers whilst sporting my always arousing khaki work pants and black polo. It was an equation for love Albert Einstein wouldn’t have been able to solve, but the mumbo jumbo of those juice box brains got it. Must’ve been shaken. Must’ve sprung a leak. Must’ve been the same flavor.

The Me

Sun, 12 May 2013 22:57:10 -0400

The slime, the slick, the sick ic that sticks to the back of me that sets upon the history that mysitifies the rest of me.

The rest of me.

The skin and bones and blood and gore that dances upon my souls shore. The me that’s me that’s really me is wrapped in layers of lesser me. Of lion hair and ostrich legs that sprung straight from the wild bits of me. These teeth are straight as a colgate ad. Uniform bought by chains and gates. It tamed those crooked jagged bits, it sang perfection to my smile. Just like those gates that trained my face my jagged hearted piecey bits were tamed. Long gone are wires but results remain, my smile shines and I still can’t seem to change my ways. There’s more to me than all the rest but less than what I dream.

I’ll sing you songs, you’ll love my sound, the voice box cracking toned deaf wail that brings peace in your piecey mind that’s jumbled by this strange world that couldn’t make things right.

After I’ve written something I have to go back and read it at least 50 times. Not because...

Wed, 13 Mar 2013 16:53:00 -0400

After I’ve written something I have to go back and read it at least 50 times. Not because I’m obsessive compulsive or a perfectionist, but so I can see what my heads made up of. Apparently it’s full of heart beats and veins and God and dedication. I decided once that I would never again argue about the bible. I will never argue about a poem or a painting. As much as this world is science and mathematic equations, to me it will always be art. I think that’s why I will always be madly in love with a God who is love. Who gives more than everything whether it’s ever recognized or not. How I love an underdog story. How I’m always falling for men that see themselves as monsters, hoping, just once, they can see themselves through my rose colored shades. I suppose I’m drawn to the broken and bruised, but I would never know it if they didn’t tell me so. Maybe none of us really realizes how busted we all are, how fucked in the head the sanest of chaps is. We are all batshit. We are all beautiful. We are all stardust in skin suits waiting for our chance to shoot across someone elses sky. Make a wish on me. Put your dreams in me. There are surely better offers but maybe together, we can fly.

Whole

Tue, 12 Mar 2013 16:55:00 -0400

The only way to love is too much.

There is no half love.

There is no half of me I can give to you, because I am a whole unable to be halved and quartered for the masses.

I am holy me, and I am wholly yours. Or I’m not.

When your handhold sends an earthquake down my spine and your smile is my favorite corner of the room. When the boundaries of my heart melt and my words that my tongue gets tied up in aren’t enough. When we wrap ourselves around each other and still aren’t close enough. When I miss you at the thought of leaving you. When telling you “no” makes my bones ache. I am yes for you. I am all for you. All the holes in the holy whole of myself are filling your collection plate. I’m giving more than I have and so much less than you deserve.

Too much is the only measurement in the places where love lives. I’ll build a home for us there with all this excess your existence has created.

That day I sat and waited. The next was the same. The snow fell gently like a robert frost poem and...

Sun, 24 Feb 2013 17:20:00 -0500

That day I sat and waited. The next was the same. The snow fell gently like a robert frost poem and my mind jumbled like a 500 piece puzzle my grandmother would start and never finish. Every noise was a the sound of hope. Every creak on the stairs, every time that damn dog barked, every car that passed. It was you coming, coming, oh come for me baby

Just please don’t go. But I was never one for begging, and your heart was always stronger. My empty hands I filled with tissues instead of your hands, because you never came. Please make me a liar today and hold me. hold me to my words I was too afraid to say.

Babes

Tue, 05 Feb 2013 15:02:24 -0500

Our children will wonder what we mean when we tell them the skies were once free as we wait for clearance in the aftermath of a ten plane pile up. We’ll tell them stories of stars that shown brightest from the view of a meadow surrounded by trees that breath. We’ll paint them pictures of love unfathomable and teach them to be kind when others are cruel. We’ll pass preachers and thieves whose words are laced with chains and we’ll speak the words that set souls free. Their hands will be small but big enough to hold onto the dreams they find when we whisper the secrets of hope in their ears. A full bank account isn’t a full heart but a full heart is a full life and when yours starts to drain I’ll fill it with my own. We’ll smile at the light found in the gloom and teach their eyes to search for it and lock it in their hearts so even at night they’ll find it there. While others are running the rat race we’ll be planting trees just to watch them grow.

Days had passed with them wrapped around each other. The sunshine barely touched them where they lay...

Tue, 05 Feb 2013 14:45:19 -0500

Days had passed with them wrapped around each other. The sunshine barely touched them where they lay under blankets, covered in kisses, dreaming to the soundtrack of the other’s exhale. The tenderness that pinned her against the wall and enjoyed her deeper peeled back her layers. The physicality became more than the touch that had it’s way in ways unfamiliar. They lay bare before each other and drank the other in, cherishing every ounce they had to offer. She’d chew on his words long after they were spoken, leaving the sweetest of tastes in her mouth.

He had a way with her heart, the way he handled his own. The way he left it on his sleeve so she could see each pulse, she began to understand hers. The beats she’d outlawed and hidden from her veins began to stretch their limbs and make their way back to their home in her chest. She was everything she had always been when she was with him, but fuller. Her dreams were bigger and her every moment more than enough. He pulled her in and held her strong, kissing her forehead while she traced the ridge of his spine and they drifted to a state of conscious dreaming.

He was everything I ever dreamed of before they told me their ways were right, but I’ve been...

Tue, 05 Feb 2013 14:25:00 -0500

He was everything I ever dreamed of before they told me their ways were right, but I’ve been from here to there and back again and I’ve never seen one better. Those things they told me to discard, those bits and pieces, chunks and masses of my soul they claimed insignificant shine through his eyes. And they told me art was nice but obsolete and I followed their lead until I met God on a mountain. He showed me the skies He’d painted and the beauty He’d tugged from the dust, the flowers and trees and the man I love. He sang me songs in His words of old and read me poems written before they were understood. I tell them my God is an artist and their law is their prison and I will love till’ my bones take flight on the air that’s breathed and even then I’ll love the feel of the wind ripping through me. I’ll love every ounce of sun and soul, especially the ones that still dream.

Maybe

Tue, 25 Dec 2012 00:09:00 -0500

Of all the people in the world I can’t promise that I’ll love you the best. Of all the women who paint politics and bend backwards for the angles you crave I don’t know where I stand. I know you touch places inside me I tried to burry. I would love to say I’ll save you or I’ll bring you light but that would be saying you need either of those, when in reality you’ve been bringing those to me. There’s so much I don’t know. There’s so much I don’t understand, and maybe this is what falling in love feels like, maybe that’s why I’m terrified. Maybe that’s why when we’ve had a great time together I run away and shut my heart down for a little while. Because all of the pulsing its’s been doing is more excersize than it’s known for maybe my lifetime. And I know I’m young. I know you’ve been in my shoes and you’ve left them for newer brands, but I like where I stand and I like the view when I get to look at you. I get that I don’t get it. and I get you may leave. and as much as I care…I don’t care. I couldn’t leave if I wanted to. There was a time I could’ve run and instead I stayed. I chose whatever this is. Maybe you’re as terrified as I am. Maybe my small tragedies have broken me more than you’re legitimate ones, and maybe I’m fragile and selfish and unaware of far too much. But maybe you’re beautiful in the way I held my breath for so long for. And now I regret the air I’ve sucked in before you came into my atmosphere. Maybe I’m insane. Maybe words are indecisive and maybe is definitely. There hasn’t been enough time in our hand holds to know what you think when Paul Simon sings, or the sun turns hazy in the summer, or how you’ll take my awkward ramblings when they’re not new and cute anymore. but I wish you were here when you’re gone and I wish I was stronger than I am but instead I’ll listen to the beat of your chest as burry my face in it when we’re not ready to wake up and I’ll flip your almost curls in my fingers when your inhales turn to rumbles and your exhales turn to the air I breath. I don’t know if I’m ready, but I don’t know if life cares about my agendas, because here you are anyways.

“There’s nothing extraordinary” is how it starts. It ends in the worst way. It...

Mon, 24 Dec 2012 12:30:51 -0500

“There’s nothing extraordinary” is how it starts. It ends in the worst way. It leaves you screaming for an absolution you can’t imagine. Fin.

This is a strange place of beauty we spend our time in. There is pain and hurt and suffering and mountains and ocean shores filled with rocks that glimmer. There is life so paper thin and hopeful, hearts so tender that fake a fortress of concrete that will never stand forever. There is love and loss and fashion and poverty. There is you, the endless yous, and me, the only me. I hope you understand.

Where does the time go? I swear I had it here a minute ago...

Sun, 23 Dec 2012 00:29:36 -0500

Simple

Sat, 24 Nov 2012 10:45:00 -0500

I’ll admit these roads we’ve traveled have taken strange turns, but just as the song bird returns to it’s perch by the pond every spring I find myself coming back to you.

Home. My home is my heartbeat so it’s often with you.

I’ve learned it is the simple things in life that bring complexity to the mind. A turn made without a signal, a text sent without reply, a hand that lingers too long. It dizzies the mind to try to grasp the bigger meaning behind that which simply is.

When I tell you I love you I mean it simply and truthfully and unconditionally. I mean it till’ the end of time and before I ever made you laugh. You were everything I never knew but understood, a mirror to my chest, a rhythm to my feet. I am yours, I said, if ever you want me.

For now I travel and experience and live a life that is completely my own, and pray that your life is full and beautiful and that our paths will cross one day in a town where could’ve beens exist.

Never Mind

Wed, 07 Nov 2012 23:41:15 -0500

He kissed the pulse of my veins, the quickest route to my heart.

Whispered to stereo speakers so I’d hear him loud and clear.

Painted truth up my eyelids.

Traced my smile with his laugh.

Never mind. Never mind.

Worse

Wed, 07 Nov 2012 23:37:24 -0500

It could’ve been you, if you had been you. You gave up your good for lust and un rest. You left me alone in the base of my chest. I can’t explain how and I can’t explain why, but your ways were unexpected. You suddenly were, then you suddenly weren’t and where you went must be dark.

I dance in the day and live in the light. We met in the dusk where our bodies collided and our hands got to know each other. The nape of your neck where my hand would rest and the curve of my hip where you’d pull me for more. The fun that we had, the beginning that went bad.

There are worse things in life than this.

This is the Truth

Wed, 07 Nov 2012 23:23:00 -0500

Those hearts are kept on lock down they beat without sound, cold stones too frozen to melt now. But my God He works out, tenderizes the knots out, mercy shines the light down, favor knocks the hate out, and love fills past flood gates and rushes through renewed veins. It washes clean your sin stains like the blood of the empty grave. He’ll lift you till you’re high, high. No drug or touch can satisfy like the the completed works of the son of guy. A new creation, peace on feet and light in eye, eyes. Oh, my God has sanctified, reattached the severed ties between the Holy and the child. He’s mended boughs long broken down, restored the hope that could not be found, renewed the strength and we soar now, past the lies that tethered us to the old ground, lifted us higher than despairs and crowned us with love that numbers hairs, our every breath is caught by Him, to our tears and laughs He listens in, He caries ours right next to His, the ‘beat beat’ of kin rings like the sound of victory.

This is the truth of Christ in me.

Mundane

Sat, 27 Oct 2012 18:21:12 -0400

I have had mundane days of extravagance. The things that are to be saved and savored have been slurpt up by hollow eyes. They have been sprinkled in the everyday in the most casual way, like confetti that sparkles in the midst of the disco ball it was made to fly by dulling in the lazy afternoon light. It is not the time, the place, or the regularity that makes any of this mundane, it is the lack of love. Only with love does my tuesday morning shine like your smile, only love makes reheated rice taste better than freshly cooked, only love makes my heart smile out of my eyes. So I hold my breath and I close my eyes and I save my beauty for you.

The Most Beautiful

Sun, 05 Aug 2012 22:33:33 -0400

My life is the most beautiful. It is not always tangibly a perfect thing, but I have a perfect God that makes even my darkness sparkle.

He has taken a broken and empty soul and made it of something comparable to His perfect son, something comparable to Him even. I have known hurt and I have known pain. I have felt left and abandoned, discarded and neglected, but my God chose me. My God worked for me. My God paid a price higher than the sun for me. My God daily treasures and cares for me, and my God wiped those lies of unimportance out of my life and dusted them clear off my heart.

This world in which I dwell can be cruel. Those that live here void of my father will throw words laced with lies in my direction. ‘toke on this’ they whisper as they pass me a genuine altered and mingled with feelings of less than I am. I am not always wise and I am not always brave and I’ve been known to take a hit or two, or three or four, before I realize the slip in my step. I know no way to right my life than to introduce those wrongs to my Lord Jesus Christ.

There was a time when there was a man that walked on this earth that was love. The love this man carried healed those who hurt and set free those who were trapped and hugged those who ached in a state of contaminated solitude. This man who was so pleasing to my father was hated by the darkness of this world. Those with wicked hands took him from a world in need and tortured; beat, whipped, raped, and shamed him.

He was bruised for me.

There is great power in love, this man was filled to over flowing with it. Had he chosen he could have stopped all of those things from taking place. His great love is what allowed it. His love for this world that mocked him. His love for a soul like me.

There is great victory in love. This man that became more than a body defined that when God made him head. My life is wrapped in this victory won, and those lies afore mentioned flee at the very mention of my savior. They know the sacrifice that was made on my behalf, they know my battles been fought.

My life is the most beautiful. It simply has no right to be anything less.