Want Ad

I am looking for a guy

Who will look me in the eye

Who won’t clothe himself in lies

Who will catch every fly I throw

I know

This is a deafening mission

Because in all reality

We are somebody’s needle in their own giant haystack

I am the girl

Who spends $20 on books she doesn’t need

I am the girl

Who never eats but always feeds

I am the girl

Who marches Doc Martens and clearance dresses

With short red tresses

And lush red lipstick

And musical red blood that comes through my heart like Grand Central

Because I

Am the girl

Who keeps loneliness

Like debt

While collectors beat down my door for the nothing I have

I never pick up tabs

Because I am a penny lover

With nothing more to give than my two cents

Even though my heart is rich in every sense

I am looking for a guy

Who won’t laugh when I reply

Can I pay in change?

Because people change

And rearrange

And feng shui

Like we’re all furniture

Never permanently placed

I am looking for a guy

Who loves Jesus and Friends re-runs

Whose smile gets me undone

Who can get me dancing with one touch of a fingertip

His words drip down his strawberry lip

As he grinds wine poetry

We’re in synergy

As we break out in a living room duet

I’m just looking for respect

Because I’ve always gone from place to place

Week to week

And now I’m just weak to weak

All I seek

Is love that doesn’t live in cardboard boxes

Or charge expensive rent

 I want somewhere to stay

Not somewhere I can say

I just went

And came back

I want stacks of other people’s demands

So I can compare mine to theirs and see what I’m doing wrong

I want love songs

Played on out of tune guitars

And someone to share sunrises and moonsets with

I finish fifth

Instead of first

But I will be reimbursed

Because I have worked this hard

Gotten this far

There’s gotta be someone

Because

I am the girl

Who doesn’t give up

Don’t make decisions in Solo cups

I am the girl

Who’s looking for a guy

Hope he’ll reply

When I write poems in the sky

And the stars start to dream for me

I’ll keep storming

Until he sees

So please

Don’t penalize me for paying in pennies

Because all I’ve got to give

Is my two cents

Even though my heart is rich in every sense**

68 songs.

I am 68 songs

My feet hit the floor and earth greets my toes

Good Morning Starshine, the earth says hello

As if to say we missed you while you were sleeping

I brush my teeth with melodies each morning

And wrap my tongue around lyrics

Strong. Like mint.

Because I am a mix tape

68 songs

Because 69 would be dirty

Each line delicately describes what any man might get himself into

By simply saying I want to know you

Because in one meet cute

He’d be mute as he listens to each song I play

I’d say today

I am Shania Twain as I dance on tables

And whip my hair

Man! I feel like a woman

Then I’d promptly shift gears

Music for more than ears

As I whisper Iron & Wine like lovers champagne

And my American mouth sends Flightless birds to the moon

He’d swoon

Like a boy with a coin

Then he’d realize that it’s that time of month as I change my selection

And begin to weep

All over my guitar and burn pictures

Because T-swift taught me how to tell any guy about your past love life

Because when he says “Why didn’t Taylor Swift ever think she might’ve been the problem?”

I’d say “She just ISN’T, OK?!”

My neurotic tendencies would take over as I turn into Joan Jett

Rock and Roll leaves no regrets

And I feel like a total badass

Even though on the inside

I’m a mainstream poser hipster

Because somebody made it uncool to like Ke$ha and Sufjan

Wish the stereotypes were gone

Because I am a woman in 68 songs

Clair de Lune writes out red sixteenth notes that course through my veins

While I live showtunes; no day but today

And I can’t help but sing Madonna every time I start to pray

Then I get my Christian rap on with a little Lecrae

I am a Mumford and Sons light lover

And a Christina Aguilera fighter

Riding in a Death Cab for Cutie

While I’m a Say Anything writer

I’ve got Bright Eyes

For an owl city

While James Blunt whines out how I’m more than pretty

I’m a city with bright lights

Sara Bareilles

As the Vegas lightposts bend down to say they’re jealous

I may not have 68 years

68 dreams

68 fears

Or 68 schemes

But I am 68 songs

A sacred playlist

And you’ll know me

If you just listen*

the hero and the heart.

You hope to be remembered as a hero

As I look into your eyes and they spell out panels

Each pupil dark from pencil lines that create storyboards

with extra ink running even deeper because there was just too much to say
so story runs down the sides

Your eyes are oceans

Moats protecting the justice judicials

The super officials

The heroes

Because you wake up each morning

and put on courage like cologne

you are steeped in thoughts of how you’re alone

but you continue to wear truth like Technicolor tights

don't let yourself be any less than right
you wear love instead of a fight
you wear your heart on your sleeve
and that nice guy smile

I could write onomatopoeias for the inner battles you fight

As you punch out lights

And rumors
and hype

You think that nice guys finish last

But the truth is
the girls just move too fast because they're scared
to be treated correctly

A girl doesn’t think she deserves a vigilante

Because we damsels in distress

Live image depressed

Thinking that we’ll only ever get snatched up by villains

But I am the kind of girl

Who won't pass up the signal

Because when the alarm sounds

I’ll be the first on deadly ground
the girl I used to be isn't around
I'm no damsel, I am found

Because I knew it from the moment I saw your sweet disposition
you light up my days
like a Green Lantern mission

I would be Gwen Stacy 

If you’d be my Spiderman

A dynamic duo

Lois Lane and Superman

I would gladly be the woman watching you save days

And we’d live in a comic craze

Because behind every hero is a super lady friend

Behind every hero is heart

And no mutant professor could tear us apart

No evil plot, no underground bomb threat

Because I’d risk it all with no regret

Because you’ve always wanted nothing more than to be a hero

Well you are to me

though you never notice me

I’m the Invisible Woman

But I would sue storms for your attention

My Wonder Woman lasso could cut the tension

Because you

Are constantly caught up in

Catwoman calamity

While I sit back and listen

Trying to fulfill a mission

Of heart

Because you’re my hero

Whether you know it or not

We could be on fire

Human torch hot

And I may not own every issue

Of everything about you

But I’d gladly collect your memories

And put them in plastic to make sure they stay pristine

Because I say what I mean
 When I say

 I'd hide you in the back of the Hastings drawer
until I have the confidence to tell you what I see
That you’re a hero to me

And you can save my day anytime you’d like

till then I’ll take off on my bike

Pretending I don’t know how to fly

I’ll stay shy

And hope that one day

You’ll begin to read panel to panel

In my eyes
That you won't let yourself compromise
because you're amazing
you're a hero
and my heart's just in disguise**

The Plath Path

I'm on the Plath path
Head in the oven
Pushin' and shovin' on up to Jesus
to walk where Lady Lazarus walked
Ted Hughes ain't got nothin'
on the way my heart beats
to the flow
to the heat
of Sylvia
and her commission to rhyme
so sick it's a crime
not for feminists
or literary critics
or anyone who thinks Daddy is a happy rant about dancing on tiptoes
I'm on the Plath path out
to meet this lady upon poetic prisms
where we can chat about
the tulips, and the morning song, and the shitheads
who put us at the top
the Plath path out
to the countryside
where I'll ask why, Sylvia, did you fry?
We needed your stained glass eye
to shed some light on why people cry
flags of truce
dangling white and loose
till they tie it up in a noose
because no one will agree to disagree
but you were a little more creative, yeah?
baking the sweetest knowledge till it burned
too long on the fire charred rungs
I'm on the Plath path to show you
how your poetry drives me
bird out of a cage free
mad
like personal letters to carry on
they're in my backpack
knapsacked forever in my mind
because out of the ashes with my red hair I rise
for the hell of it
staying relevant
I'm on the Plath path out
to meet you and personally reply
because you wrote to the future; a case of Mcfly
come back in your cadillac to the future
and nurture
your good ole pen pal from 2011
we could've been best friend
the oven and Ted and unpublished alibis
would all be misunderstanding
simple
like sugar
I'm on the Plath path to adventure
to strive for this to be heard
even if you get it attached to a bird leg
like back in the day
I'm diggin' on it going your way
so maybe someday
we can make a lunch date, Sylvia
and we can eat cold plates
because of how head sedates
and put you where you're at
I'm on the Plath path
because, Sylvia, I need a logical lady friend
to explain why
the sky hasn't fallen yet**

love in retrograde.

To call you a whirlwind would be an understatement
I was swept up faster than any broom and dust pan interaction
As a felt a more than fatal attraction
my reaction
was equivalent to walking face first into concrete
Yet being pleasantly surprised by how much you enjoyed it
I am scared
I am scared
I am scared
of the butterflies you give me
because I thought the ones that were in there before had found a way out
or fossilized
I criticized them
for being gone
but they weren't
as I feel them come alive
every time the creases around your mouth paint dimples
and your grin spreads like light from the sunrise
making the sky turn from filtered shade
to stained glass
it was so fast
Like knocking the wind out of myself
as I fell
reminding me of my sixth grade kickball team
except this time
I actually got something out of it
My heart began to edit short you and me movies
of adventures we'd make
out on unknown lakes
or baking cakes
or making the best mistakes
you make me feel like taking a risk to live
because I've always colored in the lines
but I'm ready to make them disappear
wishing you were here
at my side
wishing distance would abide
to love at first sight
because even if there was the slightest chance it might
My dreams of the kiss I regretted not stealing the moment I met you
might come true
though it might've been kind of weird for a stranger to kiss you for no reason
If I could rewind
take back time
I'd walk up after a wave
like a sultry pantomime
I wouldn't say hello
I wouldn't let you know who I am
except for the red in my hair
and the clap of my heels on the wood floor
"J'adore"
I'd whisper
pretending to know French
though I don't, to any extent
I'd aim to impress
searching for success
in your eyes
silently saying
luck is a lady and she could be yours
as I sit down next to you
never leaving baby blues
as I stare
gaze never leaves
den of theives
and I go in for the most magical unspoken meeting
of rose-stained lips
then we go back to witty quips
and with that
regrets would never exist
I wish
that you would meet me in my dreams tonight
though you don't live where I might
It could be love at second sight
It could be love again tonight
as I start to think I'm sick of it
as I start to complain of this heartsick shit
as I start force pairs that will never fit
I quit on love
I quit on fits
I quit on lonely
I quit on this
then you walk into my life
and all I can think is
Shit
I got myself right back into it
Because you might think you've quit
when in reality
you're in the middle of it
Thinking you're moving on
moving forward
when in reality
the footprints are in front of you
as you move backward
Love in retrograde***

Paranormal Activity

I have never been more proud of myself
than the day I successfully avoided crapping my pants
while watching my first horror movie
These hollywood creations
build a media Frankenstein
over paranormal proxy
that repeats plots and characters
until you've watched the same movie eight times
I should know this
and yet I am the most fun to watch
as I squirm and whimper in my chair
thinking "why did you go in there?"
Hiding in a grave might be kind of stupid
thinking that chainsaw murder should never be shown in 3D
I rock back and forth
and hope you realize I did it all for you
My heart's got Paranormal Activity around you
Because I would willingly watch children's souls get eaten
to be in the same room as you
Because even if you have to bring Freddy and Jason along
on a date
I'd gladly hold your hand
so you'd have a running mate
I would scream
making cheesy camera shots
saying "hello? hello? hello?"
over and over again
hoping that the killer might
say hi and ask how I'm doing
Instead of slashing me with a rake
I would endure ketchup goop
dribbling down my face
for one sticky kiss
before I go
then you'd get eaten by Kujo
we'd had a good run though
till the last minute
Electricity
in that paranormal activity
or maybe we'd last
in huge body casts
talking about how we met over murders
and receiving flowers and cards
from Hannibal himself
describing the body parts on his shelf
that he'll soon dine on
with some fava beans and a nice chianti
and I'd bust out of my bodycast
become a badass
wielding a gun
 have my old name undone
and changed to Clarice
as I kick down doors
defying horror movie whores
and never being the first to die
and 28 days later
you'll say you Saw into my heart like Jigsaw
and found your Final Destination
because my Descent
didn't cause my femur to jut out of my knee
straight up bloody and gory
but I did fall head over heels to my doom
trapped in a room
with my bloody valentine
Your love is Insidious
as you tiptoe through the window
and even if we both end up in a demon's home movie
I'll be glad you're with me
like Velma and Shaggy
wish you knew that you had me
Because when you're around
I've got an irregular heartbeat
Paranormal Activity
and even though these movies end badly
I won't let you and me*

Blue Eyed Beauty

He was the blue eyed beauty of a generation
cleansing grunge
with his raspy rants and lyrical lies
He hid behind yellow braid possibilities
and little bags of pixie dust
that cost him more than he could pay
one day he didn't wake up
the world knew him for teen spirit
that would now be all that was left of him
as his Peavey amp static
spoke for him at the funeral
books of handwritten prayers
lay on apartment carpet
reminded of him in vain
who knew Nirvana meant heart drain
and cocaine
and love pain
and blood stain
and Cobain
He was the blue eyed beauty of a generation
After he crossed the threshold
no one could shut up about his perfect smile
while no one said anything about it
on the day to day
He was a soccer star
and honor roll hero
and popular with the ladies
like any other jock
walking halls in socks and Adidas sandals
on game day
he hid behind high school fame
he hid behind a name
he hid behind the very picket fence on his face
straight
fake
then his roommate entered the dorm
after a long day
swung open the door handle
noticing it was cold
on his hand
then he looked up
and so was the rest of him
because there he was
the blue eyed beauty
heart drain
love pain
blood stain
in vain
dangling from
broken dreams and unsaid prayers
as he only saw himself through circus mirrors
flawed
back turned by God
as everyone else hears the same damn
Peavey static
emotional attic
where light reaches its limit
We lift candles like it's all we can do
though none of them hold a candle to you
because the wax drips down
and we realize how much
we lock up
by not saying anything
because even though that wax seems passive
it stings like acid on your skin
as you let secrets drip down and
do the same
choosing not to say
choosing empty days
choosing walking death
aspirit breath
before you shut away
'I love you's remember
He was the blue eyed beauty
outside high school fame
inside Kurt Cobain
Don't judge the book by its cover
it's never the same
as the unspoken prayers
fill lines and pages
decomposition in different stages
hardbacks still crack
as blank sheets
fall out like a sign of surrender
Remember
He was the blue eyed beauty**