He lays so comfortably under my tongue
I’m certain other men see him on the rim of my glass
Or when I pull my fork from my mouth
He’s in every fucking volatile emotion
Falls out of me like a bag of secrets I keep trying to stuff into my closet
Why guests open unmarked doors
I’ll never know
But scratching him off me
Is feeling more like self injurious behavior
Part One: There are things you haven’t told yourself Because you only learn things in books And no one has written about this yet You feel flower petal and thorn-less And just want a soft place to land Somewhere you won’t turn to pulp You’ve fallen in love with the way he looked at you Eyes are water You don’t know you are burning soot thirsty yet You’ve stupid girl texted him Stupid girl winky face And made your way to his apartment on some cloudy afternoon You inhaled a dizzying spell that has cottoned your mouth Eyes are water You are so thirsty
Part Two: It has been weeks And there are still no books about this No movies either If there were the casting call would ask for half brittle tear salted teenagers with a penchant to kiss with their mouths open He broke away from you twice after breaking you open Both heart and thighs You are learning that soft things can asphyxiate you if you let them And there is nothing softer than water
Part Three: There are things you are trying to forget But can’t There is still bitterness festering on your tongue You try to spit it into the mouths of girls with generous lips “Bitch you mean nothing to me And bitch you’ll hang on just like I did with him”
Part Four: People on TV always say You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar You wonder how many flies have drowned in water You sweeten your way into the arms of a girl Brown bodied and limbs for years She has space for you between her broken parts She whispers with her fingers, “I’m in love with you” You bite back, “not me.. not now..” Then scramble to pick those words from your teeth but it is too late she takes your water with a drop of poison now
Part Five: The fear of your past will flood its way into your present It will drown out the parts of you that are trying to float Escape with what you have left And love with it
You can purchase my book at twopensandlint.com/kaidavis ! Support QPOC
Kiss me like July. Like fireworks. Running in the sprinklers. Like fireflies. Like sleep after a full day.
Yes, kiss me like this.
Like it ain’t raining. Like we don’t know what bracing for the impact of disappointment feels like.
Kiss me like tomorrow is days away. Like we are vacation. Like we are allowed to be this reckless Like arts and crafts. Kiss me paper mâché and macaroni noodles.
Like there is no such thing as time. Kiss me as a reaction to the responsibilities our parents didn’t warn us about. Yes, kiss me like it will help me forget that I am scared sometimes. Like your lips hold secrets and remedies. Kiss me.. Like it’s easy to press lips to a moving train.
If you will just kiss me like this: Speechless and soft. Kiss me kind, like fighting wasn’t moments ago Kiss me like leaving is not a option Like “stay” Like “ain’t nobody letting go anyway” Lips on the truth in me Stolen moments and jubilee this is all I was asking for.
Your lips are the closest I’ve been to flight since the moment I was willing to fall
stop time for me
still this day
the way my stomach seems to knot when I’m lonely
I want to only be here
These poems aren’t for everyone He made that clear
Planted lilies under my tongue They bloomed this afternoon Made the whole garden take notice I plucked a petal Smeared it across my page Sent him the words his mouth created He called it sweet
It is dangerous to kiss a man who has never been in love
Never wanted to understand poetry Never been moved seriously
There are moments when smiles are a sin When silence is required and palms flat on backs are life preservers I didn’t know I needed to say “rescue me” Thought you saw me flailing
When you claim a woman Lay her on her back and pretend you are appendage Call her by her god given name Speak to her with compassion
Be as manly as your body acts it is
I assure you there is no charm in exiting No beauty in leaving No romance in goodbye
You have never loved a woman until you stay
Plant your feet and stay Right now In the down pour of it all Stay With your palms upturned The way you prayed.
Like a feather
Hung by it’s neck
How you snapped at the quill
I believed in your resurrection
On any given third day
I believed you’d rise
Like a Phoenix
How much I believed in everything about you
From your heartbeat
To your smile
Had the power to make this all real
And I believed in you
Like a swan
Balancing the struggle to be beautiful
Like a sunken ship
Found decades after disaster
Still full of secrets
Waiting to spill from the stern
Full of unspoken art
Like you made your home in an oven
Like you built yourself
Like you didn’t expect
To bust at the seams
How you taste like unripened fruit
Too afraid to be
Prepared for devouring
I can’t begin to understand believing in you
More than you believe in yourself
I have an affinity for a man who writes.
I am in love with the idea that there is a man whose hands are calloused from having written himself dry
I live in this man’s belly
In his womb
Waiting for him to birth me
Make your own orgasms.
Cum in waves.
Make yourself sexy
You deserve to cum
Be the sex
You’ve always wanted to believe in
Be the sex
For your own purpose
Be your own last
For your own good
Make it the best
So there will never be a best
Better than you
I wonder if you know yet that you’ll leave me. That you
are a child playing with matches and I have a paper body.
You will meet a girl with a softer voice and stronger arms and she
will not have violent secrets or an affection for red wine or eyes
that never stay dry. You will fall into her bed and I’ll go back
to spending Friday nights with boys who never learn my last name.
I have chased off every fool who has tried to sleep beside me
You think it’s romantic to fuck the girl who writes poems about you.
You think I’ll understand your sadness because I live inside my own.
But I will show up at your door at 2 am, wild-eyed and sleepless.
and try and find some semblance of peace in your breastbone
and you will not let me in. You will tell me to go home.
Sorry I’ve not been posting my 30/30s!! I’m actually apart of a Facebook poetry group and I’ve been posting them all there. But there are a few I’d love to share with you! Just let my life get a little settled and I’ll post them.