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Monday, December 2, 2013

How to Lose a Boy In 19 Stanzas


      1. If these poems are my children I wanna give birth underwater
        so these words can swim
        like you've back-stroked
        through my cranium
        we are an unopened biopsy
        tangled between growth and tumor
        for your birthday
        I bled out a stanza for each year
      2. I'm not allowed to put your name in.
        you find sanctuary in the undefined
        when you're impossible to call
        So I leave you tangled in radiowaves
        waving goodbye
        through shattered frequencies
      3. I'll just say you're that guy.
      4. That guy,
        who makes friends like rabbits make babies
        won't commit to disliking anyone
        That guy, who crushed peanuts
        to properly demonstrate
        how something is snorted.
        who is convinced my aorta is leaking
        excreting his name
        hoping he’s one who broke it
      5. Remember when you told me you wanted to peel off all of your skin?
        I silently agreed.
        You found me wounded. my chest sliced open. I've earned the right to see your bones.
      6. You can connect my scars like constellations
        but you don't know how cool I can be.
        I've crinkled the horizon
        played hacky sack with a sunset
        You degrade my charisma into chaos.
        Yet you told my defective stand-in
        She’s pretty amazing
        So thanks on her behalf.
      7. Remember when I assumed
        you were an ultra-flamboyant gay
        and you thought
        I was a really annoying bitch?
        Well I still like white rappers, and you're still a drama queen.
      8. Your hands are bugs.
        Amazonian bugs.
        I swat them when they’re gnats
        when they become fireflies
        I clench luminescence between my knuckles
        afraid to let go.
      9. I'm not sure if this is a poem anymore.
      10. I'm not sure if I'm a poet anymore.
      11. If I was a poet I'd explain it's good you're reckless,
        but you need to figure out
        the right things to be reckless about.
        You've put the he in hedonism,
        sponsored irresponsibility
        yet you're never wild enough to let yourself be happy.
        You're not numb.
        You're not that guy.
      12. You're the guy casted by Judd Apatow
        but written by Nicholas Sparks.
        You say things that sound pretty.
        Chase girls who let you be ugly.
        You hate cliches you can't live in.
        Though I've sure as hell enjoyed helping you try.
      13. You perform honesty
        Give them everything
        to know which weapons to flee.
        Sometimes it works.
        I know because I'm that girl.
      14. You're that guy who told me I was too honest.
      15. That guy who's worn
        the bicycle cop costume
        way too many times.
        I’m on that fabric.
        Stop wearing your dirty laundry.
      16. I'm sorry this poem is so much about me.
        It was meant to be about you.
        Can we settle at us and be even?
      17. I always accept your apologies.
        I never say I'm ok.
        17. Remember the time we absorbed shooting stars?  
        You penned on my hand
        I wish I knew what to wish for next.
        I wanted to ink back
        Wish for me.
        I wouldn't have meant it.
        We like the fantasy.
        We're not each others'.
        17. There are no more shooting stars.
        But this is your 19th birthday poem
        the receipt for a fresh wish
        Wish for a map.
        You're no good at being lost.
        When you find yourself, rescue me.
        Because I'm still
        17. Repeating my number of years
        because I don't know what else to count on.
      18. I should've numbered scars
        private ruptures we exchanged
        You have a photographic memory
        remember what my cracks look like.
        where to burrow in a crowded room
        I’ll use my echoic mind
        to fossilize sounds,
        your voice explaining
        the broken
        you fill by swallowing yourself
      19. I know you love being that guy. But I'm in love with my guy. The man you’re afraid to be.

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Ariel is available and interested in anything creative!
For spoken word performances & workshops, web & graphic design, or other writing/film projects please contact via email at arielsob@usc.edu.
New York & Los Angeles work preferred!