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Category: Poem

  • Pay Later

    And just like that the wind shifts The future is futile I’m in the now now now Wanting what I can get Even if the supply is limited And the offer running out I’m ordering now Paying later

  • Unfinished: The Haikus

    Haiku Poems: On What I Won’t Experience with the New Him   fingers through your hair the feel of just-mown lawn grass sparks fly with my touch   so you want to go back Japan is lovely I hear no more me to see

  • Burned Nothings

      burned cookies     are nothing to burned fingers are nothing to burned egos are nothing to burned feelings are nothing to burned beings are nothing to you  

  • Untitled

    Would I go back? Of course, I would to a time of physical discovery and comfort. I want that again and wanting is a sweet ache. I want to do what he won’t, a separate pain that prevents me from moving through viscous dreams to reality.   And anyway. If it were true, if it…

  • fuckball

    It’s like learning any other new behavior or cognition. It’s the same as learning relaxation techniques or to challenge cognitive distortions. Anyone will tell you, these things take time, you’ll have setbacks, the thing is to keep at it. Okay, fine. So it’s hard to it when shit goes down because I feel as though…

  • Erica

    IF HER NAME HAD BEEN ERICA *Poem written by poeticgrin If her name had been Erica, things would have worked out differently. In fifth grade the stylist would have given her a Hollywood hairdo rather than a too-short perm and JC would have noticed her then, and invited her to watch him play football. He…

  • Guilt

    …because at the end of the day, I connected two comments together and realized how horrifying disrespectful it is to one person and how it’s also sadly true for the other. My aunt lays in the hospital with major health issues, all of which are simple peasant girls surrounding Queen Cancer.  She needs a higher…

  • Child

    just over two hours left before I am no longer a child officially   I have no memory besides this moment   an undisclosed amount of time before I am no longer a child symbolically   The past and present go deep and I do not want to dive in on the side afraid always…

  • Wasted Good Cheer

    The vast majority of my good cheer Has been wasted on strangers I’m grumpy now Crabby I think that I am the endearing kind of crabby

  • Happy Holidays (What the fuck kind of thing is that to say?)

    You dropped me with two little words. Happy Holidays. What the fuck kind of thing is that to say? I love my men instantaneously. And am always surprised when the two of us, “us,” combust spontaneously internally how could this happen to me how could he/you not love me why am I powerless to stop…