January 2012
1 post
when i was sixteen i swore i’d kick up these wandering legs, head north into the city, head north into the snow. i said i could count the love lost on one hand when i was seventeen i swore i was done with with this. longed to find myself in the backseat of a pick up heading south. i dreamed of the dirt streets, the peach trees. i imagined the sweet fruit and cracking its skin and our button...
December 2011
1 post
3 tags
your face, my hands how beautiful that crooked stance i can still taste the salty skin on my mouth
and our worn spirits, i still feel them crowding in that empty house, we dreamt up but couldn’t fill with anything now
so many nights crying out in our sleep you can’t get your arms wrapped around me we never thought that we’d ever have to wander out so far
November 2011
5 posts
spillageofthoughts replied to your post: The grass made a soft bed upon the warm earth…
Based on this post, I would read this book if you wrote/published it. You’re a good writer.
Thanks so much! If I make any progress I’ll be sure to post excerpts here.
3 tags
The grass made a soft bed upon the warm earth where I lay watching leaves wispily fall to my sides. Autumn was sweeping through Lupa subtly this year. The leaves had begun to slip into their tuxedos of red and orange and sneak fluidly from the trees’ thinning branches. I watched their delicate cracking skins scratch against one another as they gathered in little piles beneath the forest’s...
Hello
It was really nice to have some questions in my inbox. I haven’t really been fair to my followers of this blog. I suppose I just havent had much inspiration lately.
Please stick around. Leave some feed back. Stay awesome.
lil neenz
4 tags
Anonymous asked: Have you ever fallen for a beautiful stranger?
Anonymous asked: Who is one of your favorite writers?
October 2011
1 post
2 tags
and those are things we wish we would have realized when we were all kids and all the knowing was learning how and all the being was finding out when all the heartache was building boundaries and all the sunshine in life would come and go so quickly as we created entire landscapes and oceans in spite of one hour, tiny fleeting sparks of inspiration and how we tore them down without ever...
September 2011
1 post
2 tags
and its warm and its beating and breathing and i smother it in spite of you
and its yellow and delicate and spins in dim light, comes out at night when the times right
and its young and fleeting and it means everything and nothing all at once
movements bound only for memory, for experience,
i feel my teeth slipping from my curtain lips but back in, not tonight, not again. what if i’ve been...
July 2011
3 posts
http://lilneenzmakeswords.tumblr.com/ask →
2 tags
and there’s no doubt- your fiery hands cut so effortlessly though my cotton clouds
eyes fogged from the breath inside my head thank God’s careful hands
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thrive inside the sun, like another day reborn could out number the others ones, like the constant cycle could be revised, reversed from doubt to revolution then degraded to doubt again. i can never set this straight. i thought we could share, from soul to bone to skin we were two roots that grew and met back in the middle. but whats mine anymore, and whats yours? my soul, my skin, my bones: never...
May 2011
1 post
2 tags
your memory settled dirt and star dust all blew in with the storm how could you be sure how much you made what was already here don’t hold your tongue
spend your nights forgetting what hands feel like your memory is only settled dirt and star dust so how could you be so sure?
February 2011
1 post
2 tags
i know i fill in with the salt of every season, weighed down by heat and blizzards alike but this scene is still shocking in its features, when once i felt your skin against my softness. it wasn’t for your sweat, your touch, some words you spoke on a wintery afternoon. it was in your eyes i was searching, looking up and into you and the solitary moments that came and passed without an ounce of...
January 2011
1 post
2 tags
do not be afraid. for i have felt this before. i have seen the end of this. for your sake and mine, i must make this clear. on three, you will turn your back and walk twenty paces towards the shore. you may not remember the steps to this dance, one i so often tap out with the tips of my fingers in our real life living room. this dance we step, is kept in a locket so tucked away and carefully...
December 2010
2 posts
like the copy and paste heartbreak plastered to your stage name was ever yours to reinvent and adopt to your excuses. i often forget they are not words you wrote, just ones you stole to patch up with cotton what you cannot fix.
the sun cast over the green canopy, the rain illuminated everything. under and over the bridge water ran in rivers, while under and over my skin i felt that electricity. i’m quite fond of the reflections that touched the grasses, the mirror of my muddy shoes sinking in the bank where we played dangerously. we never touched, only talked, because then we were young and now the weather ages our...
November 2010
6 posts
2 tags
i always imagined running through that field. adventurously caught, barefoot and freezing under the country side’s private sky. that beautiful portal, that black and blue bruise, tenderly tending to those that flicker all night. amongst them was just one, one that showed itself to you, it died and fell towards your house. i wondered if you had wished on it, that bashful star that let your eyes...
2 tags
two hands, beautifully mixed of tans and reds, swiftly and accidently touch. not awkward, in fact anticipated, and as expected neither person shifts to move them out of place. they go on as if they could lay there for hours pressed lightly against one another, that they could go on pretending that conicidence brought this pair of fingertips together, and carelessness kept the two touching. but...
i’ll be safe the day i learn that people will never embrace me half as hard as i hold them, and that people like me don’t come by so often. i’ve got too many things to feel and none of the words to describe them. so gather round and watch me destroy everything in spite of itself.
2 tags
memories so sick, so scarlet. perfect porcelain, perfect pretty. and now your all alone with those dagger diamonds, reels that play in success and so often suggest: half truths, whole truths, dead truths and you, and you trapped all these aching trials inside my hurried head. and me, in the corner of a room with my back to a wall nursing the crooked coward that kept this tangled trial tied- well...
2 tags
The world sunk beneath a thick charcoal blanket while frost settled on its bare broken back. All the light had expired. I watched the orange musty blaze withdraw from the earth, and as it was swallowed I began to wonder will the sun always surrender to the formidable night? I strained my eyes to see a flint of yellow, a small fire in the distance, but naturally it faded out of sight. Another...
i’m sitting on my roof and i can’t see a single one of your houses. i’d thought i’d let you know. i never got better, not like i promised. and you already know. if the storm twists instead of scattering,. whats the point? its still the same storm. and i’m clean but still wandering. so who says i’m good? locked myself on the outside so i could love you in the shallows. locked myself in to be born...
October 2010
3 posts
and i go on wandering, soft and worn by hundreds of years, tiny pinches, clean cuts-lungs weak from decades of drowning. oh, old soul how many have you loved? as i’ve gone on wandering, through centuries of romance with strangers i’ll never know- and are we all but ghosts? wandering in a world, unfit for our continuous trials? i kiss and i can taste it. the raw bite of the world’s inexperience,...
the storm
and i remember how slowly his gentle hands reached towards my face, how the damp cloth was pressed so delicately against my mouth met at both ends by my feverish skin and how i held my hands tightly together to keep them from their shaking and how too his hands shook as they moved towards my cheek. how one signal drawn from a tiny crevice from which only these types of signals are drawn was passed...
WatchTalent Show @ Goucher College / October 9, 2010
i’d never be led to forgetfulness, when the black bled out they’d pressed in my eyes a crooked lens, a kaleidoscope of confusing color. my violated view, everything misread, misconstrued. cardinal red, the only color they left me to drench the stray hands and hearts to ever reach my ruined eyes. so when your clean flesh meets the stain, when i...
September 2010
5 posts
auto-biography
five year old heart, hands, and eyes they were naive, but they were all mine and i curled them under drew them backwards hid in corners - i had met the crooked world set to wreck my honest shine
how often are monsters dressed in such common clothes filthy vultures, tucked away feathers they shook my nervous hands and promised forever- we will hold your needing head love your abandoned...
2 tags
buried blue bruise don’t show your face. i’m on one side -dying for infant crawls or elementary speech. my body, as close together as it will fit, turned in on itself in a contorted mess. maybe i’ll disappear. i’m never prepared to go, but sick while waiting. i’m splintered wood, but you, baby blue, you foaming green, you’re the ocean’s current. you flow so easily in all directions, i’m all dead...
and wondering of smooth paleness and soft brushing where gentle hands touch my back, legs, neck and the small patch of sand colored skin between my elbow and wrist
and warm sunspots of tailored sheets dust like kisses strawberry sweetness hands, feet, and fingers intertwine
and quiet hums sinking along with subtle steadying breaths buried under a canopy of blankets while the freshness of...
one thousand numbers dialed tender touches and foreign excuses tongues tight, shaking hands hidden you couldn’t pry my small arms from your elusive demons
it was boldness i sought in you like sharp whispers on street corners like abandon my pews for your altar like disastrous thumping melted to a steady hum
1 tag
I stretch my nimble fingers stiff and numb. Dark brown and black lines stuffed deep under coral colored screens. Sharp, with hefty intent, to dig and scratch against what feels like thick gravel pavement. Silky fabric covered buttons sewn into the concrete walls of worn yellow plush. Dirty nurseries, barbed wire prisons. The bright red bricks and wooded entrance never let go of the secret....
August 2010
1 post
burned straight through soft skin black molten, violent myths tremble loved one, for fear drowns the circle reaches their hands up towards the surface but your stone grey eyes became a burden set to sink the flock
May 2010
4 posts
The white bones are crushed inside our timid hands, and still we hold one another’s. Are we both but broken, bent and leaning backwards? The summer heat left our skin thin and browning, our hearts heavy, course, hungry. Now we stretch their hide at the seams, to shelter our treasures, to keep our precious rewards captive.
paper thin wings dipped in ivory dust, trapped between your muddy hands. i watch you pick them apart. pieces you like, and others you discard. primitive motions, seamless production, slow, fluid, offset crushing. seductive in nature, ironically playful, laid down and able. typically stripped bare bone to beg. dismissed, arranged in reflection taught rehearsals. the yellow drains, while your blood...
2 tags
And when we are older, and I’ve grown softer, I’ll whisper you the worries that keep me from dreaming. With my nose lightly pressed to your side and my arms folded to keep myself together, I will confess what it is that keeps my thoughts in movement. Two parts we claimed a piece, interlocked, you are the west and I the east. We share all of what falls to the north and south side. From...
1 tag
sewn into the same shadow we were sea sick with the same salted tongue but who is elijah? to tell us fortunes of the future we deny our fate
and what is this false reserve? teeth and talons, defending seats we are sure we own
they’re suited for surrogates commonly traded pieces were pawns informally placed, and carelessly played
(05/2010)
April 2010
5 posts
nightmares of nightmares
I cannot be ivory, hung behind the porcelain curtain placed in the white wicker basket We blend into a life that may not exist Realities we resurrect, then predict I’m still pressing on graves, plaguing the past with death I bury, we build.
1 tag
With your feathers between my fingers, Painted yellow, but fading black. Tender to your tethered wings, please don’t turn on me. You don’t drop anchors, to drag them around.
1 tag
It’s the way I feel when I stare into the bruised night sky. For a second I could be anywhere, with anyone, at anytime. Because I have built a portal between clocks and calendars, my view of the dusted black blanket overhead. For on the nights that are left nameless, and the ones twisted infamous, they hang the same. Golden trinkets, tiny lockets, souvenirs of what was, what is, and what...
believe in the parts you’ve rebuilt, once love has...
“there’s little left to reach for
digging through silk and filthy garbage
i’m...”
March 2010
10 posts
i am the time traveler returning to my sour stomach and hot lungs where the walls melt among warped perceptions and human figures turn ill, to empty caricatures
i am the inventor reconstructing the betrayals of my own flesh and blood how do i record what i wish to deny? you raise your eager glass in such company that salts my wounds, still fresh, still wet, still red
I am what cannot stop this...
pardon
my writers block.
your a crooked blade with a sweet slanted taste tearing seams, continually I equipped, restitched, but always surrendered to the stones, a burden, a balance to act or resist, was withdrawn by a gentleman’s promise and now i cradle my fear in the face of such fiction and fragile security, taught and tied systems that snare my aching hands, that beg to be unbound
i fall on different sides all the time, but i'm...
1:47 AM (Phase One of Failure, Doubt)
And so I sleep another night unsettled A tiny pebble tumbled out of place Brushed my thick scales backwards Left every bone awkwardly aligned
Yet my pillows will be grateful For I will quench their salty thirst With each tiny droplet, I offer a taste And hope the bitterness in my own mouth Will have escaped by morning But as the sun rises over, The dark reappears Stretches its shadowy...
3 tags
I am broken in many ways,
therefore, I am a writer.
the clocks play dead, but i can hear their murmur. my name in past tense, what will it take to reinvent? melt metal, roll the tape backwards, strung together, wound in chemical, reckless sprint reversal.
pride as large as the lion’s kind, fear shaking twisted timid insides both the silver spoon and trash fed child, dress in cowards clothes
talk to circles,
to keep sobbing senses snared and silent crippled pleas that beg, don’t bend your rules backwards still you crack your spine until you’ve reached the earth cover your face in it’s sable dust, look into the eyes of the child you cursed, ...
they had hollowed out the royal blue river, still we kneeled, our bare backs bowed in mud caulked trenches, life starved circuits i’ve sunk islands in spite of this brace for impact