Friday, July 31, 2009

Day 11: Drive by

There are no drive through movies in hawaii.

You aren't very likely to see a drive by.

But you can drive by the same souls made broken by the stray bullets of one night stands.

She wont say it

but my memory is the biggest mistake she ever made in ewa, palolo and kaimuki.

Not every person who sleeps for a night knows it wont last.

And I've learned you can tell one night stands from relationships by the speed.

And -------,

she liked it fast.

Quick and passing.


i liked it slow

and reoccurring.

We didn't match.

But i was determined to make our pieces fit.

I wanted to lock into her.

So i would kiss her as slow as she would let me

and between breaths i would let her sleep.

She had a problem with brutal honesty

And because of it

Im sure

She faked orgasms more than i would fake smiles when she would leave.

We didn't match.

But for some reason her beauty made me think we could.

There are no drive through movies in hawaii

but every time we made love there was a movie playing

and our love shaked the floor

made quakes enough

if you closed your eyes tight enough you might feel like you were moving.

She moved me

all the way to California

and there are still night when I sleep in my lofted dorm room bed and I can feel her breath upon me

college has taught me

sometimes orgasms sleep walk and talk

and sometimes they scream

sometimes they crawl their way under your skin

and wait for the next time you are lonely just to taunt you

because I woke up last night in orgasm

Too scared to open my eyes to be proved of your absence

So I covered my body with my hands

Pretending I had twice then I was born with

I spend my nights in the dark trying to trick myself









Empty space


I’ve created a new you in califronia

Almost as fulfilling to embrace

But my bedding doenst touch back

Doesn’t kiss me unless im sleeping

Leaving only memories behind

And im tired of broken breathes

I want cohesiveness

I want those nights back

With the tv playing nothing but silence

While songs of fool making played to our love playing

I want you back

There is no ending here

There is not closure

You aren’t close enough for me to cut these strings

And im not sorry

There is no anger

Just you, I and the truth

And im sorry

Im sorry I wasn’t enough to make you want to be part of the honesty too…

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Day 10: Honesty

Sometimes I sleep to the scent of cigarettes

Dream to the dancing beats of your feet stepping on plates that shift and quake

But only on mornings to fragile to support sunrises

We live in that space

Between sunsets and that first morning break

Where lovers make promises and children smile kisses

And fishes fly

Because the birds

The birds are the only angels that remind us of ourselves

And so they soar

Hevenly like jesus on Sundays

We just sit in sabeth

Trying not to betray our grandmothers wishes

And for what?

An answered prayer

Maybe just to witness something miraculous

But you

You were my miraculous sin

And you could tell every friend but not family

And I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone

I loved you

And I’ve been wondering lately

What your words meant when you said

You couldn’t fall in love with me

The first time you were honest and let tears spurt through your words

The first time you stoped lying and trying to protect me

You told me

When I held you if felt right

But only at night

Only when we were in the dark dreaming

So lately I have been wondering

What is the difference between falling in love

And falling asleep

To you?

Because I fall similarly

Heavy and quickly

But you

You’ve seem to have been struck by insomnia

I wanted to be the one to make you dream

But not of someone else

I wonder

Are you different

Do you fall in love with your eyes open


Or is it a dream

Who’se fault is it that you never slept between me

Only laid there waiting for morning

Do I need to learn how to touch you differently

Have my hands given you reason

To slam your eyes shut just so you can see someone else

I want more honesty

I want more


Im sorry

And I keep going around in these circles

Knowing I don’t want to be with you

Just knowing

All I need to know it what it was about me that made me unlovable?

What about me that made me unbeautiful

What about me that made you want more from someone else

I don’t want you anymore

I just want to be the betas I can be to put someone else to sleep between these arms

So baby

I feel stupid to call you but im lonely

And I didn’t think you meat it when you said you couldn’t love me

And I thought maybe if I kissed the way you did

You’d feel it to…

And maybe

Just maybe

Tell me the truth

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Day 9: i wonder

my fingertips broke last night to the sound of crashing silence
my father let out five words like the plague:
you're mothers getting depressed again
and i wonder
what brought its timely arrival
my brother and i have just returned from college goodbyes
only to be greeted with panic attack surprise parties and apocalypse every midnight
sometimes i wonder if her heart is as stained as her voice
is she quick to aneurism
is it uncomfortable to speak of
should i just watch as if in a waiting room
but i cant
cuz something about her scream feels like childhood
like backyard swings and popsicles on saturday afternoons
something about it feels comfortable

am i being insensitive?
or selfish
is this too candid
should i be afraid
should i be crying
why am i not crying
my mothers falling back into a black hole and im not crying
im smiling
shes screaming and im still breathing
shes crying and im still poker faced and hearted
shes breaking again and

from a space far enough that i dont have to be scarred
am i being selfish?
am i being too candid?
would you rather i not speak of this?
is it bad i find this comfortable?
like childhood
should it feel less like a re-run?
do i have any control?
should i actually be looking for answers?
why do i feel like i rather be sleeping?
am i still her daughter?
is this was love feels like when its broken?
can love really be broken?
is god watching all of this?
is he laughing at the irony?
does he still thinks she's beautiful?

i wonder

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Day 8: candle-wax

sometimes i sip on candle-wax late enough at night
and wonder what kissing you might feel like
would it burn my tongue and leave an untraceable taste?
would it break me and yet still be warm enough to feel welcoming
would it taste like a mistake or just misplaced?

there are broken shards of old mirrors laced in my skin
and i've been wondering if you can see yourself in them
is that why you keep the phone line untangled enough to speak through
why i only smile half as honest when you are absent
and i cant seem to forget the same things i cant seem to regret

there is something desirable about the scent of distance
the taste of never agains
the beauty in impossibility
the truth in wanting what one cant have
there is something beautiful about pain
and i just want to be beautiful again
there is something so beautiful about pain
and i just want to be beautiful again
even if
that means

Monday, July 27, 2009

day 7: albino princess

You seemed normal at first

At birth

Until I realized

I’ve never seen someone as transparent as you


I’d call you albino

But you’ve got eyes too blue to ever be imagined red

I don’t understand you


There were some sort of

Crazy anorexic blinding cartoon super hero

She’d probably be you

But she’d have to be beautiful

I miss you

I called you the white gazelle

But only in the back of my mind

To afraid to admit your beauty

Far too skinny to be a sheep and too fair to be black

You danced across kitchen floors during thanksgiving dinners

I wonder

Have you ever looked at your skin and saw sparkles

Like a Mormon women’s description of vampires

Beautiful beyond imagination and far too masochistic

Have you Ever stared at your wrists to see more than canvases

Seen beyond the plunging ability of fingertips


Have you ever lived the life outside of your surreal autobiographical comic book strips

Ever forced yourself to see how many people around you love you

Instead of writing your own destruction

I suppose

Sometimes the hero doesn’t live


You are odd

But only in the way I can’t understand you


We are blood

First cousins since birth 8 months apart

I feel a longing to protect you

Turn your life into something to enjoy instead of endure

But im not interesting enough to turn into a drawing

Not strong enough to have readers follow my stories

I am normal

In every horrible way one could be


But you

You are different

The reason for your own self-destruction

Never fit in to our family properly

Your pieces were too complex

You were amazing

But cursed with mirrors that never did you justice

They say vampires don’t have reflections

And I wonder

Is that why you never saw yourself the way the rest of us did

A princess.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

day 6: too brown for jesus

I sang last 19 years worth of Sundays sitting in koa pews


Looking out to the ocean for god

Our cross hung from the ceiling draped with cloth is the closest thing to a mast and sail I have ever witnessed from this position

When the missionaries approached the Hawaiian Islands

The natives saw god in the flags and sails

Flying crosses draped in white

A clean crucifix

Missionaries with bibles and lessons

Jesus Christ hung from their necks

Brown eyes could fix on what they couldn’t touch

Listen to what they wouldn’t preach

God was for every one to follow

But only for white men to lead

God was exclusive

God was beautiful

I want to see him like they did

Before the fear

Just excitement

Want to know him before tainted as

A faceless menace of change

All I remember from school is god

Through his white wind breath saw clean slates created with newly abolished laws

The timing for change was perfect

And for almost 200 years brown hands rose thorn prayers to the heavens for their new savior

For salvation

I was taught

I was brought up knowing god

Memorized his face without ever seeing a picture

In 1994 I was baptized in the same sea god created to transport his word to me but I saw no speeding crucifix

No jesus just water

They told me that day that GOD was watching

and so I remember my four year old eyes twitching looking for a white bearded man

reaching my brown hands for something I would never be pure enough to touch

Saturday, July 25, 2009

day 5: im bad with messes

sometimes i sit and stare down the ocean
pretend i can reach california shorelines and stretch my palms toward it
and pray
pray that these fingertips do not fray while trying to hold on to you
enough has been broken
enough has been torn
i hope i find my home in less enough pieces to cary in my pocket
and your heart somewhere near the ashes of it all
we can rebuild together if you want
i wrote you a haiku the other day but was to afraid to say anything about it
so i tattooed it to my heart hoping its beat would turn to morse code and you'd know the meaning:

fractured, broken, hearts
my own hands are red with blood
im bad with messes

i love u

Friday, July 24, 2009

day 4: Time bomb

She has nothing left to give
but im not keen on taking
i've just been stuck to her hip since late last nights
cuz i cant touch anyone without dropping everything for them
my skin absorbs too easily
im not tough enough
i need my own walls
im too tired of breaking other's down and being the only one naked
she'll still waste deep in lack of regret for broken hearts
and i cant hold her around the foundation
she's cracking and my arms are getting tired of stretching
she's got go away dont leave me still tattooed to her cheek from the last time she kissed someone and meant it
and every time we text i write poems about our excursions into tears and hearts depth
but im tired of digesting
tired of telling her
Hearts are meant to be broken
that the only way for it to grow is break and rebuild
im tired
tired of explaining that my hearts to big to fit in my chest
thats why its on my sleeve
my emotions are too unstable to be in my blood i wear them on my face
that im a ticking time bomb
just looking for something to love.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

day 3: hook up im hooked on

a haiku:

penetrate my skin
with your touch like osmosis
together we're toxic

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

day 2: castles

I am never honest enough to be naked
and i've heard her speak of being a fortress but they dont stand without strong walls
i cant see through you, it scares me
maybe i was once a castle
cuz Sometimes when I kiss I cry more then smile
and castles
they were built to be beautiful
but they will always be conquered
I’ve wept at climax more times then I have laughed
My breathes are short and sharp
Piercing like the secrets we’re sharing like our bodies

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

day one: last night

last night

i cried into the pours of someones heart

not knowing it could spurt an affection i wouldnt be ready to harbor

today i will tell the women i love about my most recent mistake

and she will cry into silence

not knowing, she cant soften the sound of fracturing diamonds crashing

i will hear her

worse, feel her own tears on my fingertips as if i were the one comforting her instead of the destroyer


she may sleep in a bed with someone she doesnt love

place her breathe between two lips

forked like traffic

like decisions

she will not have to think

i did that for us


you see,

i act sometimes as if my heart were in my back pocket

sit on love like its something that cant move

wont run away if i dont care for it properly

so i took hammers to golden foundations

our pilars left broken

the problem with beauty is its unstable

and its structure too simple

its easy to break

and we thought we were growing together but maybe you are just growing out of me

making our center of gravity lopsided

i wish i were better at balance

im sorry

after all of this

in the end

after days past and tears already formed diamonds on hardwood

i'd still like to hold you

lay with you

but i have shackles for arms

hanguffed fingertips

they only hold pain

i do you no justice

its just us left in the mess of ashes

so i leave scars and bruises to prove i was there

you promise me you wont forget

but what is the point of love if it leaves both sides broken

could you be the one who gets through me whole?

do we have a choice of who begins the night crying

and who wakes the next morning whole

or wakes at all

i think i'd rather sleep if you would like to live

"dont leave me

dont forget my destruction

the way i would love you

before my hands were covered in ink

bloody and tired of tears

do not forget how i will kiss you forever if you let me

do not forget how i will hold you forever if you want

do not forget that i will love you forever whether we are together or not"

what is a heart thats flattened by mistakes worth

my weight is hard to bear and my heart is soft tissue torn by my own blades

i am too proud for apologies

i can only scream when im sure no one is listening

because, i've always been a lover

forming huge rather than flatteringh flesh with harder nuckle grips

but baby maybe i was too foolish to be productive

never knowing that happily ever after would never come together without a fight

My new poetry blog.

hey guys,
i've been challenge to do a 30/30 (30 poems in 30 days) and so im starting this blog for you to follow if you so choose. :)