the stars are dead

someone told me
that the stars im watching
are already dead.

someone told me
that theyre far enough away
that the light is already dead.

there are stars in your eyes and

someone told me
that theyre far enough away
that the light is already dead.

someone told me
that the stars im watching
are already dead.


--erin

astral projections

i can almost feel your hand over mine

and i don't mind

i can almost feel your breath on my neck
and i don't mind

i can almost feel my feet pressing into your sheets
and i don't mind

i can almost feel your teeth pulling at my lips
and i don't mind

i can almost feel my heart beating into your skin
and i don't mind

i can almost feel your empty words tangling in my hair
and i don't mind

i can almost feel the bruises on my hips
and i don't mind

i can almost feel your fingers on my throat
and i don't mind

i can almost feel you killing me
and i don't mind

and i should mind

and i don't mind


--erin

i go outside sometimes partie deux

there are rivers underneath my skin
moving past the rocks in my chest
and smoothing out the branches of my spine
that dip into the current.

there's a set of footprints on my palm
jumping from head to heart
line
but avoiding my life
line.

clear skies in clear eyes
follow gaps between fingers
follow gaps between teeth
follow gaps between hearts
follow gaps between thighs.

there are trees growing from my fingertips
and the still branches taught me about love
and how to feel what my eyes can't see.

roses fall into place
between leaves and thorns
and hands fall into place
between rivers and trees

and the cool palm on my shoulder
breathes into the breeze
telling me to keep drawing cassiopeia on my arm
even if i can't find her throne in the sky.

i'm still watching for the moon,
letting her pull me with the tide,
washing my rivers into the oceans
and teaching me about the clouds
that hold me as i fall asleep.


--erin

"you've got a pretty kind of dirty face"

i'm knocking on blank doors everyday,
using dead flowers and scotch tape
to remember.

we've been watching our lungs on the big screen
like it was someone else's life.

the headlights only saw youth and love,
her breath hidden in his neck.

we haven't taken the 1975 off of repeat,
but we turned up the bass
because i like it when my ribs rattle
like my heart hasn't already fallen asleep.

we'll skip the saxophone
while you drop your lids
and your shouting mind.

just remember that the stars make
a more honest silver screen.

follow my eyes to the sky
and put your hands under your head
like you have nowhere to be.

lay back and watch
your lungs, my lungs,
like it was someone else's life.

smile,
like our hearts haven't already fallen asleep.

our lungs are moving through the stars
and it's no one's story
but ours.


--erin




(title is from "robbers" by the 1975)

cyclical

my bones felt like glass,
but they haven't broken yet,

and
her eyes are growing
and shrinking
along with the moon

and
her lungs are growing
and shrinking
along with the moon

and
her faith is growing
and shrinking
along with the moon

and
my bones are made of plastic.

i can beat
and
i can breathe

while she grows
and shrinks
along with the moon.

she thinks her bones are made of glass
and she thinks she is the moon,
but she hasn't broken yet.

i haven't broken yet.


--erin

basilica

you're walking around asking
the wrong questions
because people are always talking
about my red heart

but i'm thinking about my lungs
and i think they're pink
and that feels more important today.

i'm a monument
and you'll be visiting for years.
taking your pictures,
cameras strapped around your neck,
arch support keeping you on your feet,
sandwiches in your backpack.
(everything here is too damn expensive)

marble smooth as i never was,
velvet ropes keeping you from getting too close,
but the gold glittering at sunset
is worth battling the crowd.

they'll turn me into collectibles,
miniature and plastic.
a piece of my lungs watching from a dusty bookshelf
with a smile they never questioned.

remember the color of the sunset.
find the sunrise someday.

your lungs feel like home.


--erin

growth hormones

(sometimes i feel hidden.
lights only reach my outside.)
[i guess that's true.
is that a good thing?]
(i'm wearing a mask.
just like everyone else.)
[literally or figuratively?
because you look the same to me.]
(it doesn't even look like me.
smiles that bright hurt my eyes.)
[i think you have a lovely smile.
what doesn't look like you?]
(this mask is warm.
melting everything.)
[i don't understand.
please elaborate.]
(i have a problem.
it's about melting.)
[okay.
what about melting?]
(what happens
when i melt away?)
[i expect you'll be warmer.
melting hearts are generally regarded as good.]
(i think i'm water.
ice melts into water.)
[that's true.
there will be a puddle at your feet.]
(no.
i think i might be the puddle.)
[what do you mean?
i don't understand.]
(you wouldn't.
i don't.)
[again, what do you mean?
please elaborate.]
(your heart is frozen in ice.
my heart is frozen ice.)
[what?]


--erin

don't cry in college.

there's an ocean in her eyes.
she looks like a river.
she feels like a desert.

she watches as the light buzzes above her.
she watches as the stars come out.
she watches herself fall.

her face.
her tears.
her everything.

alone.

she can't help but feel.
she feels it all.

she wonders
when she last cried like this.

everything she is,
exposed in the bright spots
when she feels dark.

she asks when her cheeks burned
and the blue in her eyes
started to drown.

she can't remember.

too strong.
too long.

she can't remember.

she can't remember.

she can't remember.

she tries to breathe.

i can't remember.


--erin

wanderinglusting

(origin: this was "ode to summertime insomnia" and then i revised it over the summer so that i could read it at sfys. original is here. i just thought you guys might want to read the slam version of it.)

darling,
i came to tell you that
the days will become longer than our legs and the nights will belong more to laughter than to heavy eyelids.

and we can roast our hearts over the campfire, 

but they'll never understand why we fear obscurity more than death.

the stars read our tears and they tell us that wanderlust was always a myth.

and i can tell you that we'll all find polaris eventually

but you'll know that north may never be the way home,

and i'll know that home is only where the heart is until it gets sick of our indecision.

but it's okay.
it's okay, sweetheart, because we'll go south and southwest.
we'll go to the places that no one cares enough to dream about
because we'll know that they're ours. 

we can make new dreams
and create magic in the sand.

we'll paint with our hearts
because we believe in the forgotten.

so let's make our souls out of sea glass
and laugh when they don't understand

why we call them beautiful.

we've never been decisive about what comes next, but it doesn't matter.
our feet have minds of their own, anyway.

and i know.
i know that certainty lies in bed with confusion, 

but i know that their skin never touches while the world calls our tongues unstable.

so, ask more questions and get fewer answers.
i'll call it serendipity
because you've always loved simplicity.

and i know it hurts, dear.
i know it hurts,
because i can feel it.

so tell santa claus your desires, because he'll never laugh at the five-year-old's questions
and he'll never get tired of you asking for a bandaid for your heart.

it'll heal, sweetie. 
you'll heal,

because the stars still shine when there are clouds

and your heart still sings when it's broken.

you inhale truth like a child, 
and that's okay.

you only expel CO2 and a wish for the genie you never believed would grant it, 
but that's okay, too.

i'm telling you now, because i wish that someone had told me

that the clouds will never be obsolete 
and all you've ever wanted was to fly.

but, love, i'm no romantic,

and dreams are for the peaceful,

so enjoy them for me while you can.

please, please, please,

enjoy them while you can.

--erin

notes

my bones broke when i ripped the page

and your mother stopped calling when you were

nothing but fine.

you were

anything but fine.

big hearts break into small pieces.

and her lips said love

and her hips said sin

and i know i can't be unbroken

and i know i can't take back the words i've thrown from my tongue,

even if i wanted to,

even when they shattered against you

and you

and you

and you

like a glass bottle shatters against brick

and i lied to myself when i said that i was strong.

because broken glass cuts.

it always has.

it always will.

and i warn myself away

and i keep my own secrets

for now.

and i watched my hands,

two at the top

the right drops

the white splits

half stuck on the left

half escaped to the right

that flutters down

and the "in" falls

on the fault line

and the "er" stays

between the satin covers.

so, slip your fingers between mine, love,

and cry for me when i can't myself

because my bones broke when i ripped the page,

and my eyes stayed dry.

my bones broke when i ripped the page

and i watched as white turned to grey.

let the tears carve tracks to your throat, dear,

because my bones broke when i ripped the page,

and i'd be lying if i said i wouldn't do it again.

cry like a firestorm, love,

cry,

because big hearts break into small pieces,

just like everything else.


--erin

rhyme, not reason

lights fade                                           .                                                      
laughter dies                         .                                                        .                               .                .
love follows                                            .                                                  
hate lies                                                                                                                                        .
                                              .                                  .                                              .
kiss your palms                              .                     .                       '                                        .
touch the stars                                     .      .                                .               .               .
watch the skies                    .                                                                      
watch the skies                              .                                                                      .                             .
                                                                        .                   .            
now is then                                                                                                  
then was will           .                                  .                                .                                   .             .
close your eyes                            .                        ..                                              .
lie so still                                                                               .            .    
                                                                                                                                               :
kiss your palms  .                      .                              ..                                .      
touch the stars                                       :                                  .                                       .
it's God's will               .                                  .                                     .        
it's God's will                                                                   .                                     .
                                               .                                                          .        
quiet hearts                   .                   .                          .               :                                               ..
shaking fears            .                                  .                                              .                        .
always stopping                  .                                .                          .                        .
stealing tears                                   .                                  .                   .
                                     .                                                         .                           .               .
kiss your palms                            .                                .                     .      
touch the stars         .              .      ..                       .                   .                
hope appears                                              .                                             .
hope appears                                                                   .                                              .                  
                                    .                          .                        .                      .  
lips pressing                            .                           .                          .                                                    .
eyelids shut                                                  .                                        
cheeks warming                                                          ..                     .  
asking what                               .              .                     :                  .                                     .            
                                                   .                       .                         .                 .
kiss your palms         .                             .                        .                         .    
touch the stars                         .                                                        .                       ..
heal the cuts            .                                                 .                                   .
heal the cuts                                    .                                   .              
                                                            .               .                                                      .                     '
pinpricks                                                           .                                          
blinks                   .                                                              .                .
falls                                           .                                                 .                
shoots                                                                                       .                                               .  
thinks     .               .                                           :                                                  ..                      
walls                .                                .                                          .              .
winks                       .                 .                             .                          .        
boots          ..                     .                       .                        .            .           .                                           .
walks                                         .                  .                                                                ..          .  
wicks                                                                  .                                 .  
stalks            .                                    ..                                     .                
ticks                        :                                                   .                                            .                            .
talks                                      .                                                          .
sticks                                                       .                                                                .              .      
stones         .                                      .                                  .                  
bones                                                                 .                                  .  
box                            .                                                           .
bruises                                                  .                                          .                 .              .
palms           .                                                                .                  
palms                                    .                                                                                         .                         .
palms                   .                                               .                                                                     .
stars                                                                                                      .
stars                                                                                          .                                 .
stars             .                                     .
stars                                                                        .                                          .                     .               ..
                                   .                                                                      .
                                                                                      .
                                                       .                                                                 .                      .          
.                                                                                               .                                   .                        .  
       .                                                                                                         .       :                                
                                .                                     .                         .                                        .              
      .                       .                        .                                                           .           .                  .      
                    .                                .                     .                    .                        .        
.        .                     .                                   .                                    .                      .                 .           .                                                           .                  .                    .                              .            .            .                                                                                                     .                             .                                   .             .                           .                   .                                                             .                            ..              .                    .                                                                      .              .                     .                                                               .                               . . .                                                           .                      .             .   .   .    .                             .                              .            .                                                                 .                                        .                     .                                          .                 .         .                                   .                   .                            .                        .            .                                                   .            :               .                               .                                                          .                  .                                                  .               .                      .                      .                    .                                    .            .                                 .                          .                                              .                   .                                                           .                   .                           .                                     .                               .               .            .            .            .                          :                                          .                            .                .                      :                                 .      .                                .            .
                         .                                                       .                          .                           .              .                   .                                                                                .                                .                                                                                                 .                                                                          .
                                                            .                                            .                          .                                                     .          
 .
                                                                                             .

kiss your palms and touch the stars
touch your heart
kiss your eyes
kiss the lovers
touch the night
touch the night
touch the light


--erin



[star field idea stolen from this post, btw, because endymion fell is incrrreeddiibbblleee. let's talk about how good her poetry is.... it's very good.]

i really don't know what to even do with this, let alone what to call it.

chests fluttering like eyelashes
birds' wings
following eyes
following directions

nickels in an ashtray
ignored
ignored
like
ashes falling into ashes

always ashes
always
about burning
about breaking
about broken

words falling short

binding
books
binding
wrists
binding
hearts
to the hood of the car

crying rose petals
crying blood

never see
never saw
never will

nerves
in fingers
nerves
in actions
nerves
in tongues

keep speaking
keep words
keep moving

pulling out hair
pulling out eyelashes

always coming back to eyelashes

lashes to ashes

rings around our cheeks

rings around our cheeks.


--erin