Looking inside the dark

“You don’t have a shadow”
Comes the whispery breath of a voice
From the perch on my left shoulder.
“And if you did, no one would believe it.”

Castle in the Air

Do you know
how may nights
I’ve looked forward
to sleep
because I let myself
dream of you?

A Mushy Poem I Never Saw Coming

I think it has to do with your hair.
The dark chocolate strands
Curling and turning
Tickling
So smooth between my fingers
Falling messily on your brows.
Speaking of brows
Your eyes might be it.
Mossy green
No
Yellowy green
No
You green.
Yes, you green.
Fringed by massive lashes
They put my own mascara laden eyes to shame.
When you blink
They brush your cheeks,
Oh my gosh, your cheeks.
Perfectly balanced with that strong jaw
Defined, sharp
When you move your mouth,
The muscles beneath ripple and stretch taunt.
Taunting me.
But you’re not perfect.
There’s that mole on your cheek,
It’s kind of big.
And you tend to forget spots when you shave.
And sometimes
When you open your mouth
You say the weirdest things.
Then again,
That’s part of it.
That’s part of why I love you

Rage

Rage
Based on the painting titled Rage by Brenda Jones

You took my hands with you.
I can’t change anything.
You took my feet too.
I can’t run from it.
I still remember the snarl of your lip,
the look of disgust after.
Like maybe you regretted it. Or not.
Maybe you were disgusted by me.
The bloody mangled remains of my youthful body,
laying prostrate on the graying white sheet.
There might have been regret in your eyes.
Sorrow. For the pain you inflicted
Sorrow. In the deep creases of your eyes.
But that came later. Probably.

Monster. Did you feel bad?
I still see you in the crowds,
in the faces of angry strangers shoving past.
I’m older now, and you’re gone,
but you’re still in my head.
Are you sorry?
As you burn in hell, are you sorry?

Our Circles End

I want to loathe you.
Tell you to stay away.
Until I am near you,
then I pray you’ll stay.
Do you see me?
As more than a friend?
Or am I just
your girl pretend?
To satiate your need
Until the time
you find the next girl
to glut your mind.
But here I am
waiting for you again
Is this a circle?
Can it be our end?

Eminence (Revise)

Standing on the edge of this cliff. Timid.
Tremulous waters below, lapping at the stone.

My quaking feet knock pebbles in the foaming
fingers that reach up, trying to grasp my ankles.

He is down there. He’s asking me to jump,
to collapse into his unyielding, rock steady grip.

I stagger back from the precipice, the boundary, the brink.
Unsure of his dependability, his stability.

If I jump, I may stumble. I may crash. I may die.
Or I may just miss his arms completely.

But if I don’t, I’ll never find him, never join him.
And so with gravel crunching beneath me,

I soar.

It like learning to grow a turtleneck

I’m sitting in my living room
With my leg curled up underneath
me on the big comfy chair.

My friend Caitlin is laughing her
Laugh, bubbling and flowing out all
Over the carpet.

Our Friends keep saying funny things.

My boyfriend Ben is sitting on the floor,
Trying earnestly to explain probability
While I make funny faces at him.

How you doin’?

It’s pretty much impossible
To concentrate on studying
Autobiographies about old dead guys when
Ross, Rachel, Monica, Chandler, Phoebe and Joey
Keep making me laugh.

-Sarah Baughman