dearest interlude
Wasabi
Andrea Gibson
The plan was to play hard to get, that's right.
I wasn't just gonna go giving myself away, I'm no easy catch.
Can you really see me in fishnets? No.
I always found myself slipping out the holes,
swimming back out to sea.
I'd never been anybody's sushi roll.
But she, has lips like wasabi.
My eyes water every time we kiss.
Makes me wish we had a porch swing
and a little home.
Makes me wish I could right wrongs
instead of poems.
The heart is a bullet that's terrified of blood.
Love is a windshield wiper in a hurricane;
Nothing is ever clear.
You mistake her name for the moon,
Mistake porch lights for stars
And sometimes they are.
Her constellations lead me home,
Ten thousand shades of open
And if there's one thing I've ever known
in this world for sure is that this girl
is gonna crush me like a small bug,
leave me so freaking broken there will be
body bags beneath my eyes from nights
I cried so hard the stars died
but I'm like, go ahead, I'm all yours.
I would kiss you in the middle of the ocean during a lightning storm
cause I'd rather be left for dead than left to wonder
what thunder sounds like.
I'm not looking for someone who can save me.
Liferafts might keep you afloat but they rarely get you anywhere
and I've got places I want to go.
So break me in two, peel back my rib cage and
cover every page of my heart with love poems
that you will burn someday.
The most fertile lands were built by the hands of volcanoes.
And I want to know what grows beneath the drone of
hallmark and roses.
I want your goodbye to feel like explosives.
Your lips a burning building without fire escapes,
Your hips the gates of hell if I know if heaven exists,
but this will do just fine.
And I want to be life lines on the palms of Jesus
when the nails went through.
Is that really, really creepy?
Just in case it is, let me also say I want you sleepy-eyed
in the morning waking at my side like a warm summer sky
born from so much softness the horizon cries
every time nightfall comes to take you.
Let me also say that I want to make you sandwiches and soup,
and peanut butter cookies - though, the truth is,
peanut butter is actually really bad for you cause they
grow peanuts on old cotton fields to get the toxins out
of the soil - but hey,
you like peanut butter and I like you.
Let me also say I've never seen anything more gorgeous
than you were that night.
The moon bending through the window blinds.
I told time by the light casting shadows across your face
while you told me the story.
My grandparents were married for 63 years.
On the day my grandfather died, he laid in bed and said
Nothing but love love love love
then he puckered his lips and kissed
my grandmother for the last time.
Love is like sunshine. Sometimes you have to get burned
to know you were there and I want to know that I'm here.
Every single part of me - my heart open as
the river's eyes the first time it sees the ocean.
My God, look at those waves.
Listen to that thundering tide.
Can you imagine anything more frightening?
Can you imagine anything more alive?
I discovered this poem through clenchedsoul's journal. It speaks to me at an implicit level; too many emotions, too little white noise, and maybe, just right.
It is very strange to find a small, secret part of the universe riding on exactly the same frequency as you, when you don't have to second guess your defects nor sew a patchwork quilt of faces to make the futon feel a little more welcoming. Perhaps we are a little more psychic than we really think we are, to at least one other wandering person out there amongst the thistles.
Andrea Gibson
The plan was to play hard to get, that's right.
I wasn't just gonna go giving myself away, I'm no easy catch.
Can you really see me in fishnets? No.
I always found myself slipping out the holes,
swimming back out to sea.
I'd never been anybody's sushi roll.
But she, has lips like wasabi.
My eyes water every time we kiss.
Makes me wish we had a porch swing
and a little home.
Makes me wish I could right wrongs
instead of poems.
The heart is a bullet that's terrified of blood.
Love is a windshield wiper in a hurricane;
Nothing is ever clear.
You mistake her name for the moon,
Mistake porch lights for stars
And sometimes they are.
Her constellations lead me home,
Ten thousand shades of open
And if there's one thing I've ever known
in this world for sure is that this girl
is gonna crush me like a small bug,
leave me so freaking broken there will be
body bags beneath my eyes from nights
I cried so hard the stars died
but I'm like, go ahead, I'm all yours.
I would kiss you in the middle of the ocean during a lightning storm
cause I'd rather be left for dead than left to wonder
what thunder sounds like.
I'm not looking for someone who can save me.
Liferafts might keep you afloat but they rarely get you anywhere
and I've got places I want to go.
So break me in two, peel back my rib cage and
cover every page of my heart with love poems
that you will burn someday.
The most fertile lands were built by the hands of volcanoes.
And I want to know what grows beneath the drone of
hallmark and roses.
I want your goodbye to feel like explosives.
Your lips a burning building without fire escapes,
Your hips the gates of hell if I know if heaven exists,
but this will do just fine.
And I want to be life lines on the palms of Jesus
when the nails went through.
Is that really, really creepy?
Just in case it is, let me also say I want you sleepy-eyed
in the morning waking at my side like a warm summer sky
born from so much softness the horizon cries
every time nightfall comes to take you.
Let me also say that I want to make you sandwiches and soup,
and peanut butter cookies - though, the truth is,
peanut butter is actually really bad for you cause they
grow peanuts on old cotton fields to get the toxins out
of the soil - but hey,
you like peanut butter and I like you.
Let me also say I've never seen anything more gorgeous
than you were that night.
The moon bending through the window blinds.
I told time by the light casting shadows across your face
while you told me the story.
My grandparents were married for 63 years.
On the day my grandfather died, he laid in bed and said
Nothing but love love love love
then he puckered his lips and kissed
my grandmother for the last time.
Love is like sunshine. Sometimes you have to get burned
to know you were there and I want to know that I'm here.
Every single part of me - my heart open as
the river's eyes the first time it sees the ocean.
My God, look at those waves.
Listen to that thundering tide.
Can you imagine anything more frightening?
Can you imagine anything more alive?
I discovered this poem through clenchedsoul's journal. It speaks to me at an implicit level; too many emotions, too little white noise, and maybe, just right.
It is very strange to find a small, secret part of the universe riding on exactly the same frequency as you, when you don't have to second guess your defects nor sew a patchwork quilt of faces to make the futon feel a little more welcoming. Perhaps we are a little more psychic than we really think we are, to at least one other wandering person out there amongst the thistles.