Author Archives: daisymaeiuseyourwifi

Extra

My mouth always opens
Way too wide
The words spill out of the corners
And puddle on the floor
I’m always cleaning up
After it

My mind always reaches
Way too far
Creating connection in thin air
Stretching its arms
Beyond my skull it strains
Because it can’t stay put

My heart always bleeds
Way too often
Waves of crimson feelings
Looking to crash
On a beach of stable ground
But only finding more ocean

And maybe one day
I won’t do too much
I won’t be too much
Sometime I’ll be just right
For someone in the world.
The someone who is me.

Packing

This messy room
Piles of things I shouldn’t have said
Piles of things you wanted to see
But not help me clean up
So now I have to do it.
My needs
My wants
My heart
Everything goes in,
A box marked with your name.

And I can put all the things back
And fill up the box again,
There’s a spot on the shelf
With the others.
The problem is
I’m out of tape.

Weeds

Paranoia is a seed of doubt
That grows in vines,
Planted in the back
Of the fields of my brain.
And it spreads its disease,
It’s tentacles swarming,
Nestling itself in the folds.
And the knuckles clench harder
As I struggle for air,
Not noticing how far they’ve grown,
Or how deeply these roots go.
And if I could yank it from its source
I could be free.
I could watch it wither and die.
But I don’t know if I should pull it
Or if I need you to.

Ardor

I don’t know if I remember
What love feels like
But I know I remember warmth

I remember phone conversations
That chase dawn
Voices straining from use

I remember a midday message
Thinking of you
The simplicity of three words

I remember counting down minutes
Waiting to be free
Just to hear a voice on the other end

And I remember it’s possible again
To reach out for warmth
And not be burned by the flame

Compartment

I dumped a box
And all its contents
Flung in every direction
All over you
All over me

And we sat there
Dumbfounded at the mess
Before you gingerly removed
Everything from you
And handed it back to me

Now I’m packing this box
While you watch
While you ask what everything is
And I’m scrambling,
I’d rather not explain

You keep making me look
Through every scrap
Instead of just putting things back
And I just wanna pretend
You never saw any of this.

Deserted

If I stretch my sand out as far
As it will go
I will still be alone in this ocean.
If my palms reach the clouds
Taller and taller in the heavens
I will still find no one.
If my birds fly far away
Rounding the circumference of earth
They won’t come back.
And if my rolling waves of reminder
Would quit tumbling back to my shore
Maybe I’d forget I was an island.

Young

Summer days stretched on for eternity,
Burned in my memory
Like sun-scorched earth in July.
Foreverlong months of movement,
Of bike rides and hula hoops,
Snow cones and late night movies.
When we’d park with blankets in truck beds
And count stars as they woke in the sky,
Soaking all the moments while we can.
I remember all of it like yesterday,
Breeze rolling down my hair like rain,
Holding me still in the heat.

Forward

How do you save yourself
From yourself?
How can you pick yourself up
From the depths again
When your strength to do it alone
Is gone?

One limb at a time.
One movement at a time.
One day.
One month.
One year.
One step of growth.
One leap of faith.

I will move mountains in pebbles.
Entire beaches in grains.
A forest in leaves.
A meadow in every blade of grass.
An ocean in raindrops.
I will make moves in increments
And never lament my progress.

The journey is the destination.

I’m the One

I am the soft place I land.
I am the arms that open to hold me.
I am the place I feel safest.

Those other places are hard.
The arms don’t open as readily.
There is always constant doubt.

But it’s hard to be soft.
My arms don’t hold the same.
And safe means alone.

So I hang in between.
Never hard, never soft.
One day I’ll get to choose.

Base Line

The bricks fall hard
They were stacked so haphazardly
To begin with
Yet somehow I’m still surprised
When the tower of them fall.

It’s because I try to pile them
On someone else’s foundation.
And theirs isn’t built
The way I would build mine.
So why don’t I build my own?

Because I’m afraid my construction
Isn’t enough.
Because I don’t give my blueprint
The same attention to detail
That I pour into another.

My blueprint is full of white space,
In early stages of development.
And its time to pick up the pencil
Put it to the paper…
And conjur foundation from thin air.