I sleep at 6am and wake at 4pm these daysIt's the second winter I've spent at my mother'sI sleep at 6am and wake at 4pm these days by GetYourGrip
as an adult who went out into the world
on his own.
at least tonight,
I keep her door open as she sleeps.
Hearing her movements,
the sheets crinkle in her aliveness.
The first roof I ever had above me was her voice.
It still speaks to me.
That roof hangs over all roofs I'll ever know.
It shelters me when other houses abandon this child.
For coming late in the night to my bed from another.
With a first thought, but never another.
I am not ashamed for being sad.
I am not ashamed for feeling shame.
I am sad that I can't share my shame anymore.
I loved like I was alone.
Now I'm alone.
childhood addresswinter isn't quilts and netflix.childhood address by GetYourGrip
it's for cabins made of vertical bookshelves,
spines separating you from the wolves.
some of us will walk with hands to bare air,
while the rest of us fill our pockets to keep
the quarters from rousing the homeless.
i'm going to send a letter to my childhood address.
not a poem. not here, nor for you.
these film strips don't add up to a story.
much less than snow adds up to a man.
even less than light adds up to a body.
take mine, in a fit of dancing gold and godly
i'll smile if it means you think i mean it,
for a moment i thought you think about me,
this sign, reaching out in straight lines,
cutting corners, breaking rules and rulers,
don't smile because i'll think you mean it,
don't clean your name like a plate about to drop,
stop caring what words can be pulled from losses,
let silence eat silence for breakfast,
buy a bullet, call a cab, and knock on pity's door,
let 'em know who's who in town now.
geminigemini by GetYourGrip
i kissed a gemini twice
in a suit donned for dinner
with another constellation
my tongue is a tie
and a black sword
blade edge to my manhood
that gemini tugs like a leash
she wants to wear
right here in times square
where faces light up like a ghost town
of tom waits cigarettes
they follow me to my date
in the shadows of every candle
eating the smoke around her words
leaving air for our names to emerge
we unravel at the kite strings in our lungs
screaming new ones
is this what i've become?
if something should happen to me know that i caredI should have given myself to anyoneif something should happen to me know that i cared by GetYourGrip
who's ever wanted to fuck me.
The sex you have isn't yours.
Heat isn't the hand it comes from,
and an orgasm isn't the muscle convulsing,
nor the neck saying, "Cum for me."
It isn't even the experience.
It isn't even the memory of the experience.
You are more than you, whether
you intend or intend not to.
You leave a trace wherever you go.
A slit sugar packet with blood and arms.
The sex you have isn't yours.
So I should have had sex with anyone
who's ever wanted to fuck me,
so that I can belong to someone other than myself
for a little while.
poem out of nothingI rubbed one cold foot against the other,poem out of nothing by Kitafee
Not bothering to hide them under the neatly folded duvet
Chipped red varnish stained each nail
I picked at the faded purple circle, on my ankle,
left by an infected bite
I sneered at the two faint smiley faces on my potato knees
Wondering when theyll wash off in the shower
And I remember how I told you they looked like Robbie Williams upside down once
There was a freckle I didnt remember seeing before,
Deeply pigmented, almost black on my left thigh
I tugged at the hem of the white swallow littered material
I hate my thighs
And pulled at the edge of the neckline
That is my favourite thing
Thats one thing I can be sure, will always be perfect
And you just looked
And wondered how a small freckle could be anything special
Well if you look closer,
Let the lighter line around it disappear,
Youll see its almost star shaped
But I cant find anything else beautiful.