Depression · Mental Health

Blue – Green Hair | Poems that Suck

It turns the bathwater
   chemical blue
reminding me of the 
and better days.

Of absorbing Vitamin D
my skin as a beautiful
begged to worship at the
of my body.

 Where I felt
being carried on the
which rolled like a
lover's hips. 

This fiberglass tub
a cheap, lifeless
of that Middling Sea;

The blue stain
the basin a reminder
  of that.
Heartbreak · Love · Sex

Let’s Smash | Poems that Suck

I don't want love, not really. 
Not the contented domesticity of a
white wedding, a swollen pregnant belly,
a house in the suburbs or a white picket fence. 

None of the considerations and
compromises that leave you 
resentful, thinking about how
you're losing out on your best
fucking years as you brush your
teeth while your partner takes a piss.

No - what I want is, in comparison, 
hedonism. The blaze of passion, white
hot and unquenchable. To worship your
body with my mouth, my hands. 

I want to shiver under your touch, 
feel the desire of your gaze and
die the little death beneath you.

I want the romance of dancing in the 
kitchen, of falling asleep in your arms,
to hold your deepest secrets in confidence,
to know you better than anyone else. 

Then I want the drama. 
I want you to break my heart, 
to shatter it so that I can write
shitty poems for a lifetime.