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Literature Text
Your honest words perch upon brash lips,
teetering on thoughtful intentions; a super hero's cape
embroidered with moth holes, gossamered secret identity
shielding the crestfallen heart you disguise as armor,
forgotten about with a forced amnesia
until its lonely beating rips a hole
through your defenses.
I'm your kryptonite and your sunshine—
the thing that makes you human, and weak,
and untouchable,
and mighty,
and a villain to the unloved,
and my savior.
I'm the have and have-not,
the desired and the disdained—
for your every rib aches to feel the pressure of my palms
and the tangle of my fingers witching for your marrow;
your every fiber argues my nearness and my absence,
and your heart murmurs a welcome and a warning.
You retreat from the latter,
because hope was never meant
for someone like you.
I've been wanting to tell you for so long,
your honesty is a lie.
--
6/4/2012
Copyright © 2012 Jen Fowler
All Rights Reserved
teetering on thoughtful intentions; a super hero's cape
embroidered with moth holes, gossamered secret identity
shielding the crestfallen heart you disguise as armor,
forgotten about with a forced amnesia
until its lonely beating rips a hole
through your defenses.
I'm your kryptonite and your sunshine—
the thing that makes you human, and weak,
and untouchable,
and mighty,
and a villain to the unloved,
and my savior.
I'm the have and have-not,
the desired and the disdained—
for your every rib aches to feel the pressure of my palms
and the tangle of my fingers witching for your marrow;
your every fiber argues my nearness and my absence,
and your heart murmurs a welcome and a warning.
You retreat from the latter,
because hope was never meant
for someone like you.
I've been wanting to tell you for so long,
your honesty is a lie.
--
6/4/2012
Copyright © 2012 Jen Fowler
All Rights Reserved
Literature
Ephemeral
1.
i wake up and tear the sun
from the sky like this is a
grade school art project and i
am supposed to share something
worthy of myself-- i think
there is a black hole nestled
betwixt my lonely ribs,
devouring anything alive.
on days like these, my greatest weakness
is weakness and i am my own fatal flaw.
we live by mantras and my ears ring
‘i hate every piece of me’
(he put his head to my chest
and heard me dying;
call me beautiful now)
2.
we are the false ends of sunken
universes, we are pieces of
dead galaxies and you are
stardust, god, you are
beautiful.
i believe that this is all just a dream
by someone with an
Literature
Revenant
they came like phantoms;
oceanic whispers left me washed out.
those gossamer ghosts that lined
the doorways-- eyes in a constant
state of surprise as they reached for me:
needle fingers pricked, fueling
my addictions. they ached
for my veins, entangled like
the strings of my paper heart
and they stained my skin,
amethyst bruises in the shape
of recognition.
their breaths were the heavy hums
of a forgotten lullaby "one day you
will leave, and you will fade into a
virulent void, like us. you will warm
our icy bones, and we will love you,
like no one else can.
go back to sleep, little girl, we will
come again" with their cer
Literature
Serenissima
Slumbering suns
take a midmorning nap;
alleyways bright with
golden ladies,
their smiles canal-deep.
Nightfall brings guides:
stone sighs and dead light,
(never so alive).
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Um.... 
8/14/2012
Thanks so much to =toxic--sunrise and =TwilightPoetess for suggesting and
featuring this for a DLD. It's an honor to have this piece recognized.
8/14/2012 Thanks so much to =toxic--sunrise and =TwilightPoetess for suggesting and featuring this for a DLD. It's an honor to have this piece recognized.
© 2012 - 2024 BeyondJen
Comments52
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Beautiful. I like how it talks about how the other person yearns for the speaker, instead of the speaker yearning for someone else. Great words, also. 