Crush by Richard Siken...a review

“Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake
                                                                                and dress them in warm clothes again.
          How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running
until they forget that they are horses.
                    It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere,
          it’s more like a song on a policeman’s radio,
                              how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days
were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple
                                                                                                                        to slice into pieces.
Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it’s noon, that means
          we're inconsolable.
                                                            Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.
These, our bodies, possessed by light.
                                                                                          Tell me we’ll never get used to it.”

I love this poem because it has a  more abstract meaning with lots of visual and sensory descriptions.  Reading this poem makes me taste fresh cut apples and cold lips. Every word is like a clue, a little piece of a bigger picture. 

" the horses running until they forget that they are horses"  God I love that line. 

The Story of Us-- Something I wrote in my humanities class :)

Story if Us

Together, we created a world of destruction, you and me.

Built out of never wanting to fail

Our little dark house, dressed in grey

Filled with the ghosts of neglected houseplants

Filled with things that were yours and mine but never ours

Things that has seen the inside of suitcases

Been thrown from windows at 2 am

Broken and repaired and broken again

Placed back on shelves, never quite sitting the same. 

Hung back in closets overflowing with good intentions. 

Fading like a scar, healed but never gone. 

Memories frozen in flesh

They tell a story of how hard we tried

Draw a map to all of our soft spots

Places we cover with extra layers

Places we try to hide

One still night, when the wind could moan no more, we died

Gently rocking in deaths boney arms, we gave in. 

Both frozen in the winter of never wanting to change

Spring came after death was nothing new

We stepped out with new skin and long hair

Blinking eyes no longer liquid

Reborn as just patches of glare

Together we are like seedlings wrapped in fertile soil

Sprouting from the warm ashes of what we used to be.

Time Heals All Things

I forgive you. 

I love you.

With a love that would burn you alive.

If you ever felt a spark of it. 

If you ever let yourself

Forgive me for not being what you wanted.

Forgive me 

You stubborn old man. 

Don't take this to your grave.

What  happened to us? 

Why couldn't you love me

I tried so hard

Pablo Neruda

“ I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close. Pablo Neruda

Love in Earthquake Weather

I’ve written enough about ruined lovers
I’ve talked too much of things slipping through fingers
Painted desire on this visceral canvas again and again just to
See it all melt down into something I no longer recognize
Something I can no longer relate to
Rage and clinging and longing and fighting for things I have given up on over and over
I have woken up in pools of shallow flesh and returned to your emotional deserts


Wait until the sun goes down this last time
When a cool breeze exhausts this flame but keeps it smoldering
I can hear all of the cars whisk by. Feel the heat of their engines
I can hear kids play solitary after school games as they wait for their dinner


Things are calm for now
But under it all there is desperation
Building up under layers of dusk after dusk
Dusks after days so hot you can smell the asphalt
Hot days after a winter that lasted too long
Makes people pack their cars with maps and good walking shoes
Blinding days turn into iridescent nights
Nights when you kick all of the blankets off the bed and flip your pillow again and again
When the bedroom turns blue with implied sunrise
I see you glowing with sleep and your dreams reaching out for me


This is earthquake weather
These are the parts that ill take for granted, cling to feverishly
These are the images that my mind recreates
But this time sprinkled with the pain of time that passes too quickly
So quickly you begin to doubt it ever took place


 In an instant it has all collapsed
The devastation of love does not equate to the actual act
It is not worth it when in the end no one can be saved.