• esmé commented on the post, waltz 1 year, 9 months ago

    ghosts waltz through the snow and leave traces of their former self.
    footprints leading up to my door.
    thick bushes caked in white.
    uncertain cars on dangerous roads.
    winter.

  • esmé commented on the post, mop 1 year, 10 months ago

    the mop slipped lazily on the floor. the handle was in slow motion, a stop motion movie at two frames per second.

  • esmé commented on the post, lobbyists 1 year, 11 months ago

    hotel lobbies speak to me
    in strange tongues.
    the people around me crave to be anywhere but
    here, seeking solace in champagne and swinging
    chandeliers, beds that have been slept in by others just like
    them.

  • esmé commented on the post, fading 1 year, 11 months ago

    her tears started fading when the morning light filtered through her tattered curtains.
    she blinked one eye open and blearily shifted her gaze to the scratches on her chest.
    they had healed quickly, leaving only faint white ghosts of their former selves.
    ghosts of what they used to be.
    the bruises on her thighs were now putrid greens and…[Read more]

  • esmé commented on the post, irritable 1 year, 11 months ago

    when i first met her
    holding our breath beneath a sea of stars
    she hated that she couldn’t breathe
    then i held her hand
    and showed her the pointy cactus coral
    the sun bleached seashell skulls
    and the fluorescent snakes swimming through the sand.
    she didn’t seem to mind
    our constant underwater expedition
    when we shared oxygen
    beneath the…[Read more]

  • esmé commented on the post, irritable 1 year, 11 months ago

    your face gets all red and scrunched up when you’re angry. you think it’s ugly but i think it’s kinda cute, the way you’re so irritable about every little thing. scratch that, i don’t think it’s cute, i think it’s adorable. of course, telling you this will just make you angrier.

  • esmé commented on the post, western 1 year, 11 months ago

    the cactus was facing west when i saw her.
    she seemed about to take flight
    sunset colors that outshone the moon
    eyes so bright i thought they were my salvation
    musical hands and a weathered perseverance.

  • esmé commented on the post, western 1 year, 11 months ago

    desert drenched stomach
    wrinkled eyes
    cactus lungs
    sharpened tongues
    western drought
    changes the horizon

  • esmé commented on the post, relate 1 year, 12 months ago

    can you relate?
    do you know empathy
    like i know the sound of you leaving my room?
    can you feel the tears in my eyes
    as they drip on your haphazard footprints and mix with the dust on the floor?

  • esmé commented on the post, relate 1 year, 12 months ago

    i relate to the sunflowers that float on the sea
    the shells under the surf
    the sand stuck in your hair
    your best friend that you’ve loved since childhood
    the clementines you share on the beach
    i also relate to the fact that this poem is horrible i’m sorry bye

  • esmé commented on the post, clockwork 1 year, 12 months ago

    clockword clutters itself in the sharpened nooks and crannies of memories
    brushed away like wasted tears and eraser shavings
    gears shift and cogs grind and the wind howls down a lonely street.

  • esmé commented on the post, clockwork 1 year, 12 months ago

    every time i’m with you
    my legs turn to jelly.
    it’s clockwork, really
    strawberry marmalade stuck in my cogs
    stumbling replies and sticky shoes
    laughter caught in time
    like a wasp in amber.

  • esmé commented on the post, fields 1 year, 12 months ago

    yesterday’s word, what are you doing here?
    i thought i left you long ago.
    the fields were wide and twice as mean
    as you were to me in the archipelago.
    i don’t know what i’m writing
    but it’s better than biting (my nails)
    this makes no sense.

  • esmé commented on the post, fields 1 year, 12 months ago

    fields as long as the night sky
    and twice as hungry
    starry crevices form this eyelashes of daffodils and those puffy white wishing flowers.
    dandelions.
    i remember to forget how hungry the fields were
    because they stole my breathe and my words too.

  • esmé commented on the post, fields 1 year, 12 months ago

    fields stretch on
    and on
    and on
    but i can’t seem to catch them.
    the fleet past the corners of my eyes
    they gather on my cheeks and i brush them away
    i scratch my nails and there they are
    but i can never capture them
    no matter how hard i try.