i had my first kiss at eight years old
(he tasted like the lemonade he’d had with lunch)
and i
with muddy shins and splattered shorts
my hair sticking out in a disrray
i (he told me)
tasted like tuna
–he was my best friend after he was my first love
Tag: teen
red riding hood’s warning
dearest girl don’t trust
boys with sharp eyes masked with slewed questions of mock stupidity
who smile with teeth so bright they mask the fangs
peeking above the horizon of their lips in a faux snarl
and say your name like it is a casual thing to come and go
just one of million to rumble up from their cavernous chests
where their heart is expected to rest
but these kinds of boys have long since turned heartless
an immortal evolutionary adaption Darwin himself could not find the answer to
because these boys are turned more wolf than man
but hide it with the sly superiority of alpha confidence
and let it peek through with the animalistic gleam in their eyes
when full white smiles like that of the full moon
are present on the faces of the girls whose names are spoken
with the casual authority of these boys with fangs tucked neatly
inside the flesh of their lips
and dearest I warn you to never trust boys with honeyed words
that are shadowed with the ashy residue of anger
and the sly smirk of known wittiness
for they are armed with fangs and claws
just waiting to devour you
she’s always been afraid of the dark
a believer of closets with monsters within
and yet she never imagined
the worst monster was inside of her skin
beautiful boy
i think somewhere past the atmosphere
a space boy loved his little space sister
and so he taught her how to ride shooting stars
while catching moonbeams off of comet trails
and he loved her so much that when the choice came
to save her from reality but forget
or them shatter into supernovas together
by growing up
he tried to chose the best one
but his choice was faulty because
she would have shattered a thousand times for him
while he would infinitely decide to grow up for her
–irony is that they both shattered anyways
all american boy
his jean jacket hugs his shoulders
as he touches the brim of his red ball cap
in the only goodbye i’ll ever get from him
and he shoots me one last smirking grin
his rover keys swinging around his index finger
always an adrenaline junkie living off of caffeine
and petal-to-the-metal surges of feelings
that in the end
i never could give him
there was no suddenness to our end:
no avalanche of heated arguments
or a sudden loss of feelings in a terrifying drop
no
we ended so slowly that
i sometimes catch myself thinking
that i spent over two lifetimes with you
but in neither did you ever love me
her belly folds like an accordion
the purple lightning bolts of her thighs touching tile
as a yellow handle of a glorified razor is clasped in her palm
which she she uses to desperately shave the golden fur on her legs
(the last proof that she has relations with the lioness)
mw- lemonade, porch swings, pinky promises, hot baths, baggy t-shirts, wildflowers, accoustic guitar, starry nights, chacos, novels, pumpkin pie, ankle bracelets, beach towels, field guides, skinny diping, sharpie tattoos, short hair, polariod photos, string lights, campfire smoke, feminist quotes, post cards, poetry, ripped jean shorts, skipping stones, big laughs, fireworks,kitchen dancing, sweaters, orange cream popcicles, sassy sayings, rain boots, sunscreen, tangled sheets.
jj- spicy foods, sprite, xbox, rock, edm, pop, piano, converse, oversized t-shirt’s, hoodies, joggers, sweatpants, long hair, piercings, fairy lights, polaroids, beats, christmas trees, bonfires, pumpkin, pancakes, skate parks, skateboarding, trust issues, blushing, loving, giggling, messy buns, books, writing, magic, procrastination, chevron, stripes, paint, fashion designing, supernovas, galaxies, milky way, stars, astrology, universe, planets, friends.
•all poetry is original, do not copyright•
us
we used to watch//cringy movies just for the//heck of it and// wear thrift store jelwery// to homecoming// while hiding converses beneath our golden tulle dresses// at the winter dance// and people knew us by our// colorful socks and chacos in the bathroom//peeking underneath the stall door// but now we let our black ankle socks// bunch in our high tops// as we try not to tap our foot in// algebra class// as we try to find x// but really// we need to be trying to find ourselves again//because we somehow lost them along the way// there is no us anymore
dai 