blood sugar sex magik (explicit) - red/hot chili peppers

you call yourself strong
while the tears stay inside

keeping the blue
inside

and you can't see past the red
lights of the cars in front of you

and you drive away before the porcelain cracks
and you fill up with words

that never made your lungs
feel full until now

and your fingers are cold
and so are your toes

like they're blue
like they're going back to blue

and he walked away
and you don't know

where he went
and you don't care

about him driving stick
in your automatic

even though you remember
passing every red

light in front of you
every red

light falling
behind you

so you just adjust the rearview mirror
push your seat forward again

so you stop worrying what color your car is and
what color your heart is

because they're both
just fucking red

because everything's
just fucking red

and you worry about the cracked skin
on your knuckles

how the cracks are red

and they're different
from the cracks in the skin of his

but they're fucking red
too

and you remember the
good songs that remind you

of good times with people
who were bad for you

because you were good for them
and you're tired of being good for anyone

but yourself

because you're blue

you're fucking blue

and your lungs are full
and there's air
and you breathe in
and it's blue

your lungs are blue
even if your heart is red

and your car is red
and your knuckles are red

your lungs are blue

and you breathe
and you breathe
and you breathe
and you


--erin

My body (or: a year and a half later)

(x)

from my skin:

keep me to yourself
stop letting them scratch me
pinch me
slap me
touch me
stop letting them touch me
stop letting them fucking touch me

from my brain:

you smell like him
you smell like cheap cologne
your puffy eyes are your own fault
you couldnt keep yourself to yourself
you didnt ask him to stay
you didnt want him to stay
you said its what you wanted
its not his fault
he doesnt know
that there are pieces to pick up now
you can still taste him in your mouth
you dont even know his name

from my bones:

its your fault i feel bruised
its your fault
you asked for it
everything he did you asked for
its not his fault you regret it
you asked for the backseat of his car
he gave it to you
he gave it to you
you asked him to touch you
he gave it to you

from my heart:

i thought i told you to listen to me
you ignored me when i told you
not to do this


--erin

3 am messes (a letter to my head)

i won't turn the light on, but neither will you.

you're crawling between the pages and i can't find it in myself to stop you.

you tell me there's a galaxy in my eyes before you press a nail into my heart.
you tell me that red shows more than black and white.

you tell me that the freckles on my shoulders are the constellations the night forgot,
but you watch me fall with the setting sun.

you're the reason i'm dragging this pen across the paper
until i forget where i end and the lines begin.

you tell me to be a forever in the ocean.
you tell me to be an ant in the world.

you call me cold,
you call me hard,
you call me a question no one cares enough to answer.

you tell me to laugh,
you tell me to smile,
you tell me to ask the question no one cares enough to answer.

weave yourself into my chest like a ribbon
and wrap around my heart,
because if it won't listen,
you can at least make sure it doesn't speak.

you always call it incoherent,
but it least it's never lied to me.

i want you to control my arms
my legs
my neck
my eyes
because at least this way i can pretend i'm telling you to.

the sidewalks keep cracking,
but you tell me to walk.


i know i can't save myself,

but i didn't ask you to, either.


--erin

(this page was actually written at three am, which explains the illegibility)

a girl on my floor is engaged and i haven't even had a boyfriend but this mostly doesn't have anything to do with that.

my bookshelf is overflowing with good intentions
and my eyes are overflowing with misperceptions
and my mind is telling me to pay attention
and my heart is telling me about imperfection

because i'm watching with shaking hands.
i'm asking if i understand.
i'm learning about myself and
and i'm learning that i'm made of sand.

and i'm a sand girl
with a sand castle
and the ocean is brushing my hair out of my face
like mama always did,

with her fingers slotting through the strands.
with my fingers slotting through the sands.
and you can tell my mind it's supposed to expand,
but it'll tell you about my hands
and how they aren't as soft as they're supposed to be.

my thoughts are written out on my ribcage
and my skin is as quiet as a blank page
"you'll understand when you're older" isn't a stage
and they'll tell me to act my age,
but i'm falling asleep to the lullaby that played when i turned the key.

sand girls and boys
line up and down the road
and we're asking what we're doing.
we're older.
we're wiser.
we'll lie to our sisters when they ask us,

because they'll understand when they're older.
they'll understand when they're colder.
they'll understand when their shoulder
shrugs off the questions of their sisters.

because my bookshelf is overflowing with good intentions,
and my eyes are overflowing with misperceptions
and the wind is taking me apart as i get older.
the wind is taking me apart as i get colder.
the wind is taking me apart and my hands aren't as soft as they used to be.
and the wind is taking me apart as i get older.


--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

missed hands

i'm afraid of forgetting myself.
i'm afraid of turning into mist.

i'm afraid of turning into mist,
and it feels like i'm turning away from the sun.

i'm breathing through my nose
but my mouth is feeling cold.

my hands are feeling cold.
i'm afraid my hands are cold.

i'm afraid of falling when there's nothing to catch me.
i'm afraid that i'd still jump.

i'm afraid of becoming the mist that swallows me.
i'm afraid of youth and loneliness.

i'm afraid that they're more connected than i thought.
i'm afraid that they will swallow me.

i'm afraid of becoming the mist that swallows me.
i'm afraid of waterfalls.

i'm afraid of becoming a waterfall.
waterfalls don't have hands.

waterfalls have mist and they turn from the sunlight.
waterfalls can't catch themselves.

i'm afraid i can't catch myself.
i'm afraid of what i can't do.

i'm afraid of what i can do.
i'm afraid of what the world looks like.

i'm afraid of what it doesn't look like.
i'm afraid of what i want it to look like.

i'm afraid of not having hands near me.
i'm afraid of having hands near me.

i'm afraid of proximity.
i'm afraid of youth and loneliness.

i'm afraid that i don't know what either word means.
i'm afraid that they're entwined.

i'm afraid that they've wrapped around me.
i'm afraid that they are mist.

i'm afraid of youth and loneliness
i'm afraid of you and stoniness

i don't need a hand to hold.
i might need a hand to hold.

i'm afraid my hands are cold.
i'm afraid that i've forgotten.

i'm afraid that i've turned to mist.
i'm afraid that i don't have hands to hold.

i'm afraid that hands pass through me.
i'm afraid that i make them cold.

i'm afraid of being cold.
i might need a hand to hold.

i'm afraid of the mist.
i'm afraid i don't have hands.

i'm afraid my hands are cold.
i'm afraid of my mist.

i'm afraid my hands are mist.
i'm afraid your hands will miss.

i'm afraid of you
i'm afraid of me
i'm afraid of the pain in the lines on my hands
i'm afraid of hands holding my heart
i'm afraid of my heart trapped behind the bars of my chest
i'm afraid of giving it to you
i'm afraid of your hands
i'm afraid of my hands
i'm afraid of the mist
i'm afraid of my hands
i'm afraid of the mist
i'm afraid of the hands
i'm afraid of my mist
missing hands hold missing hearts
walk into the mist walk into me
walking away
walking alone
watching alone
wasting away
being a stone
falling away


--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

runaway is one word run away is two words

when i was little, i tried to run away.
i just wanted someone to ask me where i was going.

no one did.
i wasn't sure, myself.

now everyone is asking where i'm going
and i'm not sure, myself.

i'm asking where i'm going
and i'm not sure, myself.

i used to hold onto faith like it was the life preserver
and now it's becoming the water.

the leaves are falling without my tears
and i can't decide if that's a good thing or not.

questions are calling out from underneath my bed
and they don't know if they want answers

or if they just want to see me break.
i'm not sure, myself.

i don't know when it became so important,
but i just want to know how many coffins

have bloodstains.
i'm not sure, myself.

it's like something is screaming at me,
asking where i belong.

it might be me or my head or my heart
but they are sure things and i

am not

and i can't answer
because i'm not sure where the choices ended

and the expectations began.
the water i'm falling into

is either trying to carry me or drown me.
it isn't sure, itself.

i used to walk the line between right and wrong.
i walked it for so long that i didn't notice

that there was no line.
i'm sure of that, myself.

i've been staring at the stars,
asking them what my name was supposed to be,

and watching the red on my sleeve that my heart left
after it crawled back into my chest.

i've been asking the stars how many coffins have bloodstains.
they aren't sure, themselves.



--erin

a mostly pointless list of mostly pointless superpowers written by a mostly pointless girl with a mostly pointless major and mostly pointless blue eyes that cry mostly pointless tears when she's mostly pointlessly sad

• the ability to make water lukewarm
• the ability to gain weight at above average speed (but you have to do that whole diet and exercise crap to get rid of it)
• the ability to punch really hard but really slowly
• the ability to run in slow motion 
• the ability to turn anything into a tv remote (but you can't change it back)
• the ability to doggy paddle twice as quickly
• the ability to move at the speed of light (but only when you're already in space. good luck finding a rocketship. if draco couldn't find one, neither can you. no pigfarts for you. pff)
• the ability to screenshot just by blinking
• the ability to fall asleep exactly 38 minutes after you go to bed
• the ability to eat two chocolate cakes in the space of an hour
• the ability to insert punctuation into other people's texts
• the ability to attract baseballs with your face
• the ability to name that actor in that movie without consulting imdb
• the ability to turn any noodles into top ramen
• the ability to make green things orange
• the ability to be open about things
• the ability to fall in love
• the ability to not care about getting hurt
• the ability to run away from feelings
• the ability to make leopard print into cheetah print
• the ability to make a really successful baking soda and vinegar volcano
• the ability to make cardboard into printer paper
• the ability to ask the supposedly nonexistent "stupid question"
• the ability to finish half of the things you start
• like this list

--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

[counting raindrops and wellsprings]

[we start light until the rain starts to fall.
heavy follows.]

and the glamour hasn't faded from my eyes,
even if we've stopped spelling it with a "u."

and i am the "u" in glamour and favourite and colour and clamour
and the "o" in ostentatious and obvious.

and they showed me that falling stars aim for my eyes and i let them in
and that falling hearts aim for my chest and i let them stain my favourite shirt.

[and the drops hit your window pane]

"it's the new trend, haven't you heard?
broken chic. bonus points if it's your own blood [i]"

[the river swells]

and they tell me that i can say blood [ii] as many times as i want
because it never goes out of style.

blood [iii] that smells like iron and dirt,
and someone lied when they told you your chest breathes roses.

YOU BEAT BLOOD [iv]

[torrential downpour]

rushing dropping falling lying
about humanity
and the ruby blood [v] between the lines on every page.

[thunder louder than your mouth]

bleed [vi] into the lines like ink.

the general consensus:
"call it love, call it hate, call it joy, call it pain,
you'll always bleed [vii]."

[lightning hits the ash tree]

humanity bleeds [viii].
there is no glamour.

it's raw, it's gritty, it loves dirt in your wounds.

[and the pain won't wash down the street
with the fallen leaves]

and i am the "u" in wounds and humanity and hurt and run
and i am the "o" in blood [ix] and mortality.

and it takes ten to fall apart.



--erin





[because the rain fell like blood]

[x]

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.]

wizdomme

things that didn't make my paper about the definition of wisdom for my shakespeare class:

wisdom is a heart that beats instead of breaking
understanding before reacting
living before falling
falling before running
running before crawling
crawling before crying
wisdom bleeds
wisdom hears and
wisdom hurts
belief in yourself
belief in everything but yourself
wisdom is remembering pain
knowing you don't know everything
trying to learn everything
loving without reservation
loving with only reservation
watching the spaces between your fingertips
closing the spaces between your hearts
dropping barriers
putting them up
knowing yourself
forgetting yourself
forgetting everyone else
crying until the tears forget why they're there
showing vulnerability
hiding vulnerability
sharing your soul
keeping it to yourself



i still don't know what wisdom is
where to find it
how to gain it
if i'm supposed to apply it
or live in shaking ignorance






tell me if wisdom is accepting pain
or avoiding it



--erin