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Name's Allen.
I got a passion for the fashion of slang and poems.
Yup.

Posts tagged reflection

Mar 10 '14

I can wash her body
    and
I can run shampoo-lined finger tips
    between her hair

but

I can’t wash her face.
I can’t get my hands to align
              between dripping mascara lines
I can’t remove these black trails
               from her crying eyes

So I pour her her wash

because that’s all I can do

And I watch as she tries

    again
              and
                     again

to clear her blemishes
with hands that are not mine.

And she turns and asks me

    “Did I get it all?”

I can only respond with a simple

    "Yes" or "No"

Words to each their own double entendre 

And as she rinses herself
shes asks me if what she’s done is good enough,
    relying on my word
    to let her know she is beautiful
    to let her know that she is now clean
    to let her know she is now a blank slate
                            ripe for another day
                            to tear it all down again?

Who am I

to tell her when it is?

6 notes Tags: reflection poetry thoughts spilled ink

Mar 9 '14

I’m at a point in my relationship where nearly everything we do together feels neutral and not exactly that staring at the white ceiling while listening to the complete Her OST-type neutral.

But there are always the sparks in the same things we do every other day anyway.  

One day it might be laying on the bed with her, one day it might be watching a movie online, or one day it might even be something like washing the dishes. I also forgot to mention that she usually gets on my case for not writing anymore, especially not as much as I did about her when we first started dating. It kills me imagining how much she feels she doesn’t ignite my lust for writing the way she did before.

Of all these sparks, though, this one definitely hit its mark in lighting back up my writer’s bulb. So if you’re reading this, Darling, this one is for you for always being the highlight of my day (even though we see each other every damn day and this being one hell of a cheesy way to introduce a poem):


I often lose the feeling
of what it was when we first met
but I often find it rise
at the rise of cheekbones
    adorably
        pronounced 
            like a 3 year old
                saying “Mother freckles”

It makes me want to kick-flip my lips
in the middle of coasting on conversations,
holding this grind on that moment
when our mouth tips touch

But you and I both know
that I don’t even skate
to begin with
so who am I kidding?

That means I can only guess
what I’m talking about

I mean, 
    I know a lot of fancy words
    that pertain to things like
    computers and music and stuff

But I don’t have experience
    in going this far with anyone

So when you ask me why I love you
    and I don’t know how

    It’s because
    I’ve never learned these words 

Until

    You.


Yeah. That was my shitty poem. I would of ran on a tangent about technical jargon and stuff, but… you and I both know I have homework due tomorrow, and I’m sure anyone reading this wouldn’t want it to drag on so…

This concludes my post.

16 notes Tags: I love you Darling poety spilled ink memories vv reflection

Mar 9 '14

People don’t understand.

A fish tank
is like a dog.

I’m not saying the fish themselves,
because that’s like taking
little Bentley to the vet
each time.

Nope.

If this tank were to crack
and all the love
i put into the tank were to dry out
and suffocate,

Oh sure as hell
Cry back all 40
gallons I put in there

and dig a hole.

4 notes Tags: reflection poetry fish spilled ink? NonsensicalPost

Jan 25 '14

I’ve been making gun noises
since the age of three
that should be clear sign
for you not to fuck with me

3 notes Tags: reflection 4 bars lol

Jan 25 '14

Smoke
I want to breathe you in
tomorrow
like last night’s exhalation

I say that because
I’m addicted

not to your nicotine
but
the relief that you give me,
A signature pleasure.

See,
cigarettes have always been my enemy,
taken hearts and lungs away from me

But you,
fight that stereotype
You, lead me down a self-revolution
curing me of my ailments
of depression, failure, and most of all
the hate I have in myself

See,
I want to cup my lips around you,
light you up
with the touch of your button,
See,
I want to hold you
not with just 2,
but all my fingers
See,
I want to breathe you in,
suck your words
from your mouth into my throat,
into my lungs,
and into my heart

5 notes Tags: reflection poetry spilled ink

Dec 30 '13

Through the tribulations of my relationships with the habits and decisions of friends, I was given a reminder of how much my cynicism always seems to hit its mark.

More or less, the ironic part of today’s adventure to gather with the members of my high school dance team, is that a close knit, artificial family like a dance team, is a place that I’ve never felt so disconnected from before—granted, we all are connected by music but not so much as individuals.

And through observation in my given silence, it seems the same privileged few are still the only ones in this small bubble against a sea that we’ve for so long called “a family.” It seems more to me like a microcosm of the world outside and I’ve forgotten what it meant to be excluded and ignored of existence—a struggle that many still face out there. 

My original thoughts consisted of the fact that today would be a genuine experience to see everyone aged and welcoming, but it only turns out I’d be faced against the same cold shoulders I left behind.

Through it all though, I think perhaps this day was necessary. I found that my rightful doubts served as good markers to ward me away from wasting my time again. 

That, and it was nice to see a few faces :]

3 notes Tags: reflection personal thoughts vent memories