carpediembitchess

[carpediembitchess]

its not my birthday anymore where you live yet here still i foolishly lay waiting for your wish part of me has moved on but that other part which still craves your smiles and half your solemn heart refuses to believe that you've moved on too and that i'll never again receive a happy birthday from you.

[carpediembitchess]

The waves belong to the moon As the moon does to the sun All the glittering And golden tears Of one With the moon basking in glory The sea sparkling in daylight I wonder Does the sun feel lonely too?

[carpediembitchess]

my mother still speaks of you

every other day

yet i wonder in her heart

what kind of sorrow would lay

for her little girl didn't know better

than to lead a boy astray

and cast all those who love her most

far, far away

[carpediembitchess]

i'm sorry for not living up to your legacy or our family's legacy or my own, for being bitterly carefree and horrendously careless sanctimoniously incinerating, silently, visibly, knowingly, forever longing the terrible soliloquies that make me me.

[carpediembitchess]

i miss you

or is it that i miss the way you called me at every lamp post, at every roundabout? i saw your smile the other day, but maybe it was the same smile you gave me when i won something, when you said you saw Orion in the creases of my cheeks. i saw your eyes glittering in the sunlight like tears of mermaids, but you told me my eyes looked like a sunset in June.

i miss you

or maybe i miss that you missed me.

[carpediembitchess]

you wondered where i had gone. you assumed, since the raft had sunk and the waves stopped glittering, i had found jaded shores to make my homes. you ceased to see my head bopping in the water like apples in wine, to hear my laughter like birds on summer 'noons, and so you sailed. crafted a new boat with the wood for the bonfire, left ash with the fuel for the smores. what you didn't realize, my darling Jack Tar, is that i had drowned. and here, now i wonder. where have you gone?

[carpediembitchess]

i thought i saw you in the square the other day. we'd never been to new york, but we liked to imagine the billboards were secret gateways to sensibility. that as long as the sunlight streaming through the acacia leaves formed beautifully symmetrical patterns, who cared if the critters scorched beneath? our clandestine fantasies left dragon wings tattered and fairy dust gray, but we didn't stop. not until the kingsmen had raided the castle, until the fire ants had twitched and burned, and the billboard lights had flickered away.

[carpediembitchess]

like the stains of mint ice cream on my laced white mannequin like the stains of salty dew on my velvety Tigger napkin like the stains of blue ink on the creases of my palm like the stains of scarlet dye on the rubble of the bomb like the stains of idle whispers on strayed autumn roads like all the things we once loved and will never again know.

[carpediembitchess]

The tires skid

Over dampened streets

Yet the tanks

Still run dry

And soon the oppressed

Become the opressesers

Yet both remain colonized

Forevermore

[carpediembitchess]

axolotls

riddle my fancy

for those beaded eyes

are of a teddy bear i lost

lifetimes ago

that innocent smile

is of a boy i once knew

now left blinded

by the eclipse

we watched the faltering rays

as they gazed upon us too

yet now we have lost

all that kept us young

[carpediembitchess]

the match is lit,

i hear the laughter of a seven year old self being tickled by her brother, the sound of a cricket ball hitting the piano, and the animated voices of inanimate stuffed animals.

the flame dances,

i see the playstation controllers, the fight for the better shower panel, the patient paintbrush strokes and the stories filled with utter nonsense.

the wax burns,

i smell the burning microwave cake, the musty drawer filled with ribbons and yarn, the salty sea next to sandcastles and the grass after rain.

the candle melts,

i waltz with the minute hand, and weigh my heart next to a pot of gold.

if only remoulding the wax would make the candle last forever

[carpediembitchess]

the sail lays limp and lifeless on the mast now, despite the feverish wind. but its not the rattling boat that pains me, but the miraging island in the distance. to fathom that you'll be amidst the date palms and the golden gravel, scarcely noticing me anymore. how can i ever accept that the seas will ever belong to anyone but you and i? that the same streaming sunlight that appeared with your laughter will soon dissolve into the roots of some green?

[carpediembitchess]

but you were just a potrait in my picture book, and I had delved too deep into the pages.

[carpediembitchess]

are the numbers you plot

graphically clear?

the paths which we'll walk

parallel I fear

are the values we sought

co-linear?

must the code to your heart

be so cryptic, my dear?

[carpediembitchess]

pain is not relative. tears are neither a sign of weakness nor strength, but above all they are not a sign of pain. tears mean you can swim, you can remain afloat despite the murky depths grasping your last breaths. but feeling pain and not being able to cry, that means you drown. that means there's a crater inside of your heart that no amount of magma and tephra could fill back again, that there's a hollow that no amount of love could repair. so when people ask me if i don't care because i'm not crying, that my pain is lighter, so light that i can't express it, they're wrong. the mineshafts inside of me are being dug with no prospect of gold nor diamonds being found. so i will not cry. i will merely sit and stare at the void in silence, the void so dark and expansive, the void now tearing me apart.

[carpediembitchess]

but i find i seem to like the sting of my cold fingers on my cut lips. the blazing sun penetrating my cornea, just to see that momentary rainbow. how i feel the computer keys burning up, but i type away anyways, for how can i ever be devoid of words? how can any being possibly come along that's brighter than the sun of icarus, snatching words away like drops from a wine-glass filled to the brim with thoughts, and yet still cuts deeper than the scars i thought would fade away? but then again, how can one's wings melt away when they've been moulded with melted wax?

[carpediembitchess]

the light reflecting off your lashes like the butter glistening on freshly baked croissants. your smile so delicately laden in your perfectly moulded cheeks, like chocolate chip cookies on a hot summer day, baking in the oven as we bake in the smouldering sun. your nearly immaculate curls, aside from that one adorable little tuft always sticking out like an excited poodle's tail, but a bowl full of macaroni, with a single fork and an 60's monochrome rumbling in the background. because i'm not in love with you. no. you just make me want to swallow down all the fluttering butterflies in this boundless field we have crafted, with bubbling champagne. perhaps finally then the butterflies in my stomach would rise from the acidic depths they have sunk into too.