I Do Not Existi keep drawers full of broken electronics

because i can't stand the thought
of them unloved.

and my handwriting changes from day to day
(being rather polite now.)

i once painted a girl,
she had a watery face.
while i was stuck in this
room feeling repetitive,

i knew i wished i
loved you hopelessly

but being full of wishfull desperation
that
i
never
will.

The only words...My love, I love you skyfuls, sweeping
arms-open gesturefuls, running-wild blue-sky
starfuls. I love you
past mountain ranges past universes, I
love you into
whole other galaxies. I love you like a
run-on sentence without stopping
for commas without stopping for
thought without stopping for
breath without stopping.

I love you without stopping.

I love you heavenfuls, letters to
Santafuls, lists of
wishes that we'll grow into one day, like
world peace and oceans that taste more like
salt and less like money. In a way
that spills across the sky like stardust, like
the capability to fly, like
toadstools and enchanted fores

religiou s e x perience

clasp your hands
around my breasts
they are small, i know
but they still need
your touch
at times

while i trace
your length of
spine
with my fingertips, my nails
they are broken, i know
but they still need
to scrape along
your skin
at times

as i lie beneath your
blanket of body
and heat
that slithers down
forming a path
in our sweat
to lead you south
to your retreat

and i am sipped
on by your lips
as my own pour out for you
to coat you in their scent
to laquer your expression
in their slick descent

gliding cross
the miles of your
tongue
that digs trenches
between my thighs
that keep you from
fully hear

reasons i wont ever leave1.
Today in the children's section of the library there were two books
'international terrorism' and 'how i feel when people die'
what happened to innocence and fairy tales?

2.
this day two months from now i won't be here and we won't talk ever again
i don't know how i'm going to function normally without you.
i've been rehearsing things to tell you,
excuses why i won't be here any more.
i can't think of anything that won't break your heart

3
with you i am either more alive than ever or i have never felt more dead
this again brings me to the dilemma of staying or going.
feeling alive feels so good

4
i don't know how to fall a

And the moral of love is:Hello, it's me, I love you. I swear -
things might be that simple.
But I don't
believe in things like love at first sight, just
forever. And they're different.

I don't
believe that you look in someones eyes and
know them
before you know what those eyes
look like when they're
furious-sad-ecstatic-hopeful-jealous-possessive-innocent.
You just see brown
or blue
or hazel with green and gold flecks, and maybe
you see warmth, or maybe
you see the kind of hurt that
people carry deep down inside, like tissues in
the back pocket of my purse
to wipe away the proof that sometimes
I cry, and can't explain it. And maybe
you see
the ki

Miss YouThe majority of my life I never loved you outloud.

It all happened inside me, like a trainwreck.
Like the first moment a newborn baby is unswaddled
and wondered at. It was like

that.
Both menacing, tragic--

and miraculously precious.

I always save the nicest part for last, have you noticed?
I do that because I think somewhere deep and resounding inside me I know,
without a doubt, that it is going to be okay. One day I will love you in peace,
not

in p
i
e
c
e
s

.

With a grand, retreating sadness I confess that today is not that day.

It washes over me,
or perhaps floats, maybe, yes--it floats over me like

Displacement

i sink in one foot at a time
with the same anticipation
i would have while stepping into
the shadow of your naked body
if you were standing in front of me

i submerge myself
in the depths of lonely night
water hot with the scent
of your breath
if you were breathing on me
instead of the steam that
pricks my skin
and rises like your
face above mine would
if you were here.

i lay back slowly
letting it run through my hair
as your fingers would
if you were here
and it rises past my shoulders
drowning them in streams
of heat as you would
with your tongue
if you were here

it encircles my breasts
where your tongue would pai

missing.i remember how you found me digging through boxes in my closet one day.

'what're you looking for?' you asked.

'i'm not sure,' i replied.

you looked at me, confused. 'you don't know what you're looking for?' you asked. i only shook my head.

because i never know what's missing or what i'm looking for; only that something is lost. misplaced.

but maybe the only thing misplaced is me.

-

'what do you think of yourself?' you asked me the next day.

'what do you mean?' i replied.

'i mean,' you paused for a moment. 'how do you see yourself?'

a telephone was ringing on the t.v. in the silence that dragged on. you turned away from me, and i cou

I Inhale December

Winter gives its breath in waves
of clearer mornings and crisper nights
It whistles past my ears and I sit
knees against my chest
wrapped in mother's quilt, patched
with handsewn stitchwork
Worn and frayed
A tattered shield half-filtering
December's evening
chill of air.

The stars, one thousand penlights
scattering cross the sky's
own patchwork quilt
of constellations, connecting
to my eye and followed
by my outstretched finger
tracing the Great Bear
through spiraling smoke
that dances from half-filtered
habit to despair.

My glowing wand
Gives its breath, enslaves
me with its whispered plight
in streaming deltas
upw

How to heal a broken heart.How to heal a broken heart:

Do not write love poems.

Forgive yourself for the one morning you didn't kiss him awake while the alarm clock rang.

Let yourself cry when you realise you don't remember the last time he said "I love you".

And again, when you know exactly when you said "I love you" last, and it didn't matter to him anymore.

And again.

And again.

Do not count days between the last time he saw you naked and the night he told you he hadn't been happy for months.

And don't ask yourself what that last time meant to him.

Delete the songs you know you'll never be able to listen to again.

And his number from your phone.

And the t

Mortal Declarations of Self.She sharpens her blade
        in preparation to hack secrets from the people crowding my rooms
            such modest dress
            for such an assassin
                    slitting the throats of ghosts
                    that linger in my halls

She stalks, with light feet

w h e n +I+ h i d ew h e n +I+ h i d e
{tonight

. wake [face fear you feel in falling far]
{poet=/=live. Initiate finale.
{will of writer = null+void. Value=0, set style:permanent
>We Write our Worlds in Source Code Streaming

. sense [award awakening with aligning actions]

. rise [heart hallowed by hollowed halls]
{initial effect inserted, panic attack. set style:layby
>duration: indefinite
>criteria: find program:courage

. be//act [necessity to never need, now never know]
{I

xI think I could stare into your cerulean eyes for years until your hair was full of dust and my heartbeat sounded as dull and erratic as a broken down steam-engine without getting the strength to tear myself away.

I think I could trail my fingers along your chest until the freckles dug deep into that immaculate skin of yours became like formality, something so etched into my memory that I couldn’t shut my eyes without seeing them.

I think I could lace my ivory fingers around your hips, and press my lips into the gooey crevices between your collarbone and your neck that I know makes your knees go weak.

I think I could drag you into the

insomnia and other things...at night I claw my way into my own chest and silence
my heart between my hands. I can't sleep with the sounds
of breaking echoing off my bedroom walls.

my room is so much emptier without you, I say,
sleeping in the corner on the floor. there's nothing
here for me when I'm the only one in it.

I know, you say. there's nothing there for me when
you're the only one in it,

either.

Bent Out Of Shape Lay it on me
sing it right to me
feel the pulse and the chords
let it spill out
Lay It on me
breathe the notes, do it
get right with it
get majestic on this Harmony
Lead them up
let them hang
and let it all hang out

then, check out the guitarist, on the roof
playing the General's anthem
the one-two-four-eight
hammer on
S L I D E
have the audience bent out of shape
D

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More from `utro

pulse

will i always have a heavy heart?

1000 tons i feel
as i sink into this green abyss
that offers no comfort
as flashing screen
of towers smoke
and clouds depress
their way to earth
and i laugh
the childish laugh of innocents
who played in the streets
where now they lie

will i always have a beating heart?

the wooden frame
supports my arm
that holds the filter
that slowly kills me
i toss my ash in gestural hate
towards the saucer
that holds the remains
of my self inflicted weapons
and i sigh

will i always have this bleeding heart?

thats me, the liberal thinker
that tries to spread
her love around
and ends up spreading

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-beautiful-

by `utro, Jun 21, 2002, 2:39:58 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

beautiful

you may not see
this body through the
eyes of a hungry man
craving to ravage
it tear me open
pull me apart
like meat from the bone

your eyes might not
fall upon my curves
as they move beneath
my skirt in hurried steps
as i pass the whistles
and slurs of callous
animals in their
chainlinked construction
site cage

the beauty you see in me
is not skin deep
it plunges the leagues
of blood and bone
that you have swam through
with the oxygen i breathe to you

the beauty you see in me
is not wide open
it is the locked room
inside my heart and mind
that you have entered
with the key i gave you

the beauty you see in me
is not a straight line
it is the meandering road
through arteries and veins
that you have traveled
with the map i drew for you

the beauty you see in me
was first discovered by you
when you dared to explore
more than my shape
when you explored to dare
shape more than my beauty.

through only your eyes
i am real
through only your eyes
i am truly beautiful.

2,429

33 87 553

-beautiful-by `utro

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tonight matt said to me:

"...everytime i look into your eyes i see more goddam beauty than ive ever seen, staring right through me and into whatever goddam shard of a soul ive ever had, pinnin me down and tellin me what life fuckin is .. thats what beauty is to me .. not the color in your eyes, not how wide they are, the eyebrows over em, but what they do to me, how they make me nearly die to be an inch from them, how they make my own swell with tears now cause i cant..."

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Submitted on: June 21, 2002
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Views: 2,429
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~wiretapscars Dec 25, 2003

love

~niminitzar Jul 24, 2003

umm that was one of those typo's that I attribute to keyboard demons... sorry

rare*

love your work

~niminitzar Jul 24, 2003

um... perhaps you are one of those rear poets that will always take my breath away... I wish I were skillful enough to express how much I love your work... EXCELLENT you might like one of my titled Let The Truth Be Told... not as well stated I think it complements your poem nicely... Thanks again.

~tragicrabbit Jul 20, 2003

Oh, this is gorgeous! Lovely words & the idea behind it.. just.. wow. You two must be really in love.. good luck to the two of you :) (Smile)

- Britt

!summerglow Jun 8, 2003 Writer

I love it. I usually like to read poetry that's completely metaphoric and whatnot, but this was awesome!

~duchessofnod May 4, 2003

so many images persist to shade my mind.... beautiful Heart

~darkenedserenity Apr 25, 2003

beautiful, serenity encompasses me. I feel somewhat lighter after reading this, you are a lucky person, for people that see you us as we trully are and not as we often think we are, are rare. you have found one...treasure him as i'm sure you do.

~fallingsilver Apr 8, 2003

What with all that ^^^ in line....how could I possibly not be...

trite

in my comments? Yes,
I love it.
It's beautiful.
It's crystalline...strikes to the heart.

hmm....you must've heard that before.
But well...'tis true.
There's a sense of contrasting the corporeal and the spiritual. I like that alot.

+fav

~dougdrums Mar 20, 2003

Oh, damn, that is beautiful, just painfully beautiful.

~ubetyourboots Jan 4, 2003 Writer

I've read enough of your stuff to determine [...duh...] that you are a GREAT poet.

I only hope your reciting voice isn't one of those boring, quiet, monotone types. I would want to hear the same emotion as your written words contain, squealing out like an "Ehhhxcellent guitar riff."

Do people like to casually swear when they say something painfully romantic? Ubetyourgoddamboots. :) (Smile)

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