lovelyhaiku

[lovelyhaiku]

It is not the job of a child

To quell the emotions

Of their parent

Lovely Haiku

[lovelyhaiku]

And so it seems

My body has become a barometer for death

Yet, again

Lovely haiku

[lovelyhaiku]

You spin sinful fantasies

Mon cher, I clearly see

That you will beautifully and devastatingly corrupt me .

Lovely haiku

[lovelyhaiku]

It is the darkest of days

As I watch America celebrate

The death of democracy

Lovely Haiku

[lovelyhaiku]

Bite mark bruises on my inner thighs

Reminding me

Of where you were last night

Lovely haiku

[lovelyhaiku]

The first time you truly got your hands on me,

We rushed straight to the dessert,

And forgot the dinner waiting in the kitchen.

Lovely haiku

[lovelyhaiku]

When once we made love with our words

we now make words with our love

[lovelyhaiku]

I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be seen from another poet’s eyes,

Pools of green and blues,

I would gladly drown myself in if I was to dive into.

Lovely haiku

[lovelyhaiku]

Lying between the two trees

Falling stars

Illuminating the sky above you and me

Lovely Haiku

[lovelyhaiku]

Your fingers twisted in my hair

Your luxurious deep voice in my ear

And the chill of the autumn night in the air

Lovely haiku

[lovelyhaiku]

Today I realized why I hold onto broken things:

Jewelry, furniture, collectibles, people.

I have been a broken thing

With my heart ripped open

A body that defies

Constantly adrift from poisoned thoughts

Racing through my mind.

I hold on to broken things

Because I am a broken thing.

Granted, I’m more put together than before

And no longer allowing anyone through my door

But I am still broken in places down to the core.

Maybe I was hoping by keeping broken things

That that someone would make the choice

To keep me.

Lovely Haiku

[lovelyhaiku]

Sunday strolls among the stacks in Barnes and Noble

Speaking of our favorite series and serial killers.

You allow me a glimpse into your mind,

But I find myself most interested in your blue and green and slightly hazel eyes

And the playful smirk upon your guise.

We sit on bookstore floors for so long

We get asked to move,

oblivious to the passing strangers and stock arrangers.

I feel the mask slipping as the conversation keeps shifting to loved ones,

and high school shenanigans,

and my mind wanders wanting to reach out and touch you again.

Are you positive you’re real?

I feel like I need to pinch myself

because it’s as if someone placed you perfectly on one of the polished shelves

and decorated your spine with scrawling letters tempting me to keep you for myself.

[lovelyhaiku]

Tonight I brought myself to question my femininity.

You see, me and femininity have never quite been eye to eye.

I never really gave much thought as to why.

I’m not sure what brought this out in me

But suddenly I began to question,

Is it my autism? This all consuming ever-present algorithm of adapting and analyzing every action around me all inside my head?

Did I see femininity as an unsafe form of expression when I was developing my masking behaviors?

Or was it the outright bans on bodies and body bashing in the tabloids in the supermarket and 50 ft screens that made me see femininity as something that wasn’t to be heard and was only to be seen?

Did I see women disregarded and disrespect into quiet discontent over a daily discourse on our duties and the tone of our discussions and decide that I only wanted to be something that disagreed entirely with femininity?

I grew up watching womanhood be weaponized by white men with white picket fences and withdrawn wives smiling through the pain in their eyes wondering why anyone would want to worship the state of womanhood when women around me were weak and weary, preparing for the daily wars ahead.

And then a thought clicked.

My womanhood was weaponized upon me in the form of a 15 year old white boy who claimed he had claim over me. A white boy who supposed worshipped the same god as me, but saw it to place himself above me in every way, including physically. My girlhood was crushed in between the fingers of my clenched hand as it slammed into the side of his ribs and I swore I’d never be “that girl” again.

I went from Sunday dresses and curated suntans to ripped skinny jeans and black tees with emo kids bands, my wristbands concealing the self inflicted wounds from my own hands. I threw out anything pink, anything with lace, anything that was even just a trace of femininity.

I’m 28, and femininity and me, well, we are on better terms. I still dress sometimes androgynously, but it’s not to keep myself from being seen or keeping anyone from assuming my femininity. I now wear skirts, and sometimes dresses, fishnets and thigh highs, if I’m feeling myself some garters and lingerie.

I’ve learned femininity isn’t something that’s either to be taken from or thrust upon me, it’s something that I, myself, have to decide to express for me.

[lovelyhaiku]

It’s disgusting that women aren’t entrusted

With decisions about our own bodies.

My so called “rights” are hindered

In lieu of my imaginary future husband

Who dreams of imaginary future children.

Never mind the fact I have absolutely zero

Inclination to house a fetus within my own body.

My womb will lay barren

And never fruit,

And I will have to live in fear should it ever be

That my rights will be trampled

My health will be moot

All for an embryo that has taken root.

Never mind my genetic anomalies

And all the plans I had laid in front of me

All that they think matters is a fetus inside of me.

But who cares about the scared little girl that still lives within me?

Doesn’t she deserve to live?

Does she deserve to suffer and stagger with anxiety?

I will not apologize for protecting the child within me above the child who could be.

Lovely haiku

[lovelyhaiku]

I’m so tired of being another stepping stone

On a man’s path from his past to his forever home.

I search and search,

Look and see,

But it seems I’m always looking for a meaning

With every new meeting.

It’s like casting stones

On a turbulent sea

Knowing that not a single one will come back to me

But still wishing, yearning, willing it to be

More than just a passing feeling.

But off he goes,

Yet another lover, lost to the waters of my romantasy.

He steps away, finds someone else,

And binds himself to her for the rest of his life.

And I am left alone,

Atop my ever more jagged rocks

Looking to cast my next stone.

Lovely Haiku

[lovelyhaiku]

[lovelyhaiku]

I find myself in idle musings of you and I

From another time,

Daydreaming of our younger days.

We were all teasing and tattoos,

Marijuana and mosh pits,

Taping ourselves back together in parking lots

And light night talks about our monstrous minds.

Somewhere along the lines

My nights turned to fitful dreams

Filled with wistful wanting.

I often wonder what we would have become

If that December never took you away from me.

Those years “back then” don’t seem all that long ago.

From barely twenty something to teetering on our 30s,

You’re still more than “just a friend” to me.

I just really hope this isn’t limerence.

Lovely Haiku