Tag: poetry

sestina or something

Sophi NielsenLeave a comment 
You know what Tanya told me yesterday
under the bleachers since she's my girl or something?
Katie's with Carl, Alison's fucking Greg but
Greg's still going with Katie and Alison plays for the other team
John finished juvie and Claire finished Jim off
but Jim's in the locker room with John in his mouth
Everyone knows because Gretchen's got a big mouth
Bill got his appendix out the other day
Honestly, we could tell something was off
But today he's back saying "You got something
on your face" like he always does. He's still on the team.
He's always been our best and everything but

things can change pretty fast, you think you've got a handle but
Tracey's lips got sucked up into her mouth
She's probably got bulimia but so does the whole cross-country team
She couldn't get a word out in English today
I wanted to say grow some lips and talk like a real skeleton person or something
mean like that but that was before the bell went off

I mean, Celia's dad's got cancer, Trent says he's gonna off
himself,  Chaucer couldn't write something half as good but
Jane Austen could, not that I read that girly stuff or anything
Jay stuck his tongue down Hannah's throat during mouth
to mouth in health, John got suspended, haven't seen him in days
Bill and Jim and Greg got with the cheerleaders just cause they're on the team

only three people didn't make the team
they let 'em on anyway, bench warmers. Just kill them off
it's what Darwin would do, that's what my dad said the other day
Some people aren't strong enough to stick around, isn't that right Bud?
doesn't matter if it isn't because he always gets mad when I mouth
off to him. Look at Bud, he thinks he knows everything.

John smokes cigarettes, it's like a cool kid thing
Can't have them or I'd get kicked off the team
they say they can smell it on your mouth
or something. You hear Trent finally kicked off?
I wanna say I don't get it but
It's easy to get choked by your own belt at the end of the day

Greg bit his tongue clean out his mouth jerking off
last night. I'd feel bad but
we all knew it would happen one day

fucked up

Sophi NielsenLeave a comment

my thoughts still feel much too messy for therapy

i thought the point of EMDR was that you don’t have to talk about shit

that’s what Kamala told me anyway

but the first part of it, “history” laying

just some fancy words for digging shit up

bullshit

if this shit were easy to talk about, do you think i would be here, asking for your help? fucking hell


There’s this safe place exercise i’m supposed to do

i try

but the first place i think of is a fictional RV i made up

okay try again

it’s the mountains where i grew up

fucking beautiful

i feel safe when i look at them

cradled

but my parents could be here at any minute

okay try again

the next place is a beach

indiscriminate

but here, I’m still me, ready to bolt at any second, always in fight or flight

never safe

so i try to go back to the RV

where i do feel safe

but apparently, i have to keep talking while i do

my mind short circuits

how can i tell you what it smells like if i don’t know yet??

how can i feel safe if you keep pulling me back?


why can’t i just be?


i slam the door on the RV

i will not

i refuse to

take anyone here

it needs to stay safe

you need to go


the exercise is called safe place

but i end it feeling unsafe

hunched over

clutching my shoulders

feeling once again too fucked up for therapy

because i didn’t fit into others’ ideas of what ‘should’ work

because i didn’t stuff myself into a box to make myself easier to manage


trying so hard

just to exist

kerouac napoleon alone

Sophi NielsenLeave a comment

none ever asked jack kerouac and his Mercury tongue

why he never learned to love

one time daughter one time wife

but always the pull of a vagabond life

but no well-meaning busy body to the beat king said

why in the suit of hearts do you end in the red

and if any were to ask today

we would with all ease explain it away

how some journies of the soul are best taken alone

when you are king of the beats with a Mercury tongue


no one asked napoleon with his Ares sword

why isn’t it love you swing your arm toward

what can the word devoted truly mean

if you turn your gaze only to spread your seed

but no friend of the Emporer ever pried

and asked why no woman in his imprisoned abscence ever cried

and if any were to ask today

we would with all ease explain it away

how the path to power is one we must walk on our own

when you are Emporer of France with the Ares sword


so ask me again with my Aphrodite eyes

why i despise the title of someone else’s prize

and why in my waiting my heart grows cold

as adonis in eternal hell waits to grow old

nations rise and fall for a taste of my lips

and yet you still ask me why i have no man to kiss

and if you were to dare to ask today

you could with all ease explain it away

but let me invoke emporer’s sword and the beat king’s tongue

becaue there are paths we were all born and must live to walk alone

dream

Sophi NielsenLeave a comment

I’m freaking out

Because there isn’t enough

It’s okay

You say

You take my hand

Awkwardly

As you take me to fix the problem

Sorry my hand is cold

I say

You don’t need to hold my hand

You laugh me off

Finding it ridiculous

That I don’t need your kindness

I’m relieved

I readjust my grip

This tenuous touch now technically allowed


My problem solved and forgotten

We’re on the floor of my room

Describe my eyes

You dare me

And as I get closer

In physical distance and in mind

Your eyes explode into color

First in threads of gold and brown and green

Second in colors of the rainbow


Come out with us later

You plead

Trying to extend our moments

Yes

I say

But not now

For now

Close the door

And you say

Yes


act like a grownup

Sophi NielsenLeave a comment

okay, yeah, fuck you, i can act like a grownup.

it’s just not that fucking valuable.

yeah, that’s right

as someone who’s been forced to grow up early, yeah, that’s right, forced, i can tell you, acting all grown up and boring, it ain’t all that. i’ve been taking care of my own shit for as long as i can remember. i’ve spent my entire life dealing with massive amounts of consistent soul-crushing physical and emotional pain for as long as i can remember. alone. any help i got, i sought out myself.

so yeah, I can take care of myself just fine, thanks. probably better than you can. seriously. most of you can’t take care of yourselves for shit.

so why do you think you can tell me I gotta act boring while doing it?? it’s not like that makes me better at rolling up my sleeves and getting shit done. it just makes ya sadder.

you know those people that have sticks so far up their asses you could probably see it if you looked down their throats? or those people who seem to take some sadistic sexual pleasure in dredging up all the negativity around them?

yeah, those people don’t know jack shit. to quote the most annoying song i know (sans “Paperback Writer” by the Beatles), “you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

i almost envy these people even. cause it is, almost, enviable to have enough positive vibes around you that you can afford to kill a few by being a fucking square.

but dude, if that’s you, why not stop and smell the roses every once and while…instead of trampling them, cause they’re not grownup enough?

i’ll be over here acting like the kid i never got to be. cause it’s fucking fun.

im sorry

Sophi NielsenLeave a comment

im sorry you had to say it twice

for me to hear

im sorry i scared you

i didn’t mean to

but these words shutter out of my mouth like bullets

no safety on the gun

the no gun’s sign at the entrance?

yeah, that, uh…

it’s written in a language i can’t understand

i can’t learn it either

i tried

i can mimic the sounds,

string them together

perfect imitation

but the meaning is lost

and anyways

you’d have to tell me twice

im sorry