Poetry

grove of nasturtiums with trippy effect- photo by Tierney Brannigan

Write Drunk

Poetry

Write drunk
Edit sober.
Foamy words
Churning over.

I am sorry.
It isn’t me:
It’s the chemicals,
It’s the hormones,
It’s my damn body.

Lock the door
Keep me out
Hide the key,
Deserved doubt.

I really am sorry
I know that it’s tough
But I need your soft anger
When I’m feeling real rough.

Go do what you love
You do need that time
To be yourself, to escape
To leap away and to thrive.

I will watch the dog
She had a shit day,
Between going to the vet
And begging us to play.

Forgiveness. Forget-ness.
Love is not hippocampal,
It runs, walks, and falls
It wanders and rambles

I am grateful to have you
Somewhere secret I know
You are not the usual
Bone-headed beau.

I really am sorry
And I’ll try to do better,
For you and for us
For now and forever.

white lantana blooms with trippy effect- photo by Tierney Brannigan

I’m Happy for You

Poetry

Jealousy
Boiling
Roiling
Hot in my head.

Spoiling life
Toiling
Rife with it
And I don’t even feel bad.

I should feel good
For you, of course.

But dreams that slip
So quickly and easily
Into another person’s mouth
Hurt. To. Lose.

We were both at the tit!
Both at the spring,
Souls cracked open
Receiving. Chosen.

I did it all “right”
Alright.
So what?

Just because you think
You deserve it
Doesn’t mean
you do.

Your success is mine,
Somehow.
But right now,
It feels like it was mine.

Go back to the spring.
Go back to the beginning.
Go crack your soul open.
Go receive.
Go. Be. Chosen.

dark red and fuchsia geranium with white borders- photo by Tierney Brannigan

Bioluminescence

Poetry

The ocean
She really pulls it out of me
Salty, bream-ey dreams
Of floating on the infinite horizon
A tiny speck
Barely there in the sticky air

Her breath catches my tears
Her voice bleaches out the noise
Her waves, today, rumble with rust
And tonight, crash with a turquoise
Bloom

The microscopic beings come alive with light
As they tumble and crash
Suspended briefly above the whole sea
Before somersaulting into the electric foam

Night shift
Life drifts
Further from the beach

white and yellow daisies in bloom with trippy effect - photo by Tierney Brannigan

Daisy

Poetry

Daisy, you are small, but you are big.
You are rewiring my brain and rewriting my story.
You remind me of who I wanted to be,
I think.

The love is not just there.
It is growing and gnawing.
Slipping into moments, so unexpectedly.
Love is surprising.

I love your little teeth.

This isn’t completely what I expected.
It’s hard to predict how new additions
Will become new editions.

You are here. There is not an “I” anymore.
There is an “us.” There is a “you.”
Thank you for making me learn
How to be outside of myself.

I am a blade of grass

Poetry

I am a blade of grass
And then there is the world.
To my shallow root I hold fast
And then there is the world.

I couldn’t not have that drink last night
I tried to chase away the nagging craving
With weed, but it only tipped the door
Forward. Just enough to lose its latch.

I am not going to regret it
Or beat myself up
What am I really chasing away?

I am a half-full glass
And then there is the world.
I give myself a pass
And then there is the world.

Just a girl, just a pearl
In a rock-hard shell
In the world.

purple and white winged beach lilac with trippy effect- photo by Tierney Brannigan

Take Chances

Poetry

Take chances.

Taking chances doesn’t mean jumping off the cliff.
Sometimes it means stepping away.

Step away from the “what if”s and worries.
Take a chance on the present.

Stand on the cliff’s edge
And let yourself into the wind.

See where it takes you.

See what it feels like to stumble away.
See what it feels like to be okay
With not chasing after unknowns.

Chance is a two-sided coin.
Flipping it is the only action you can take.

yellow, peach, and red nasturtium with trippy effect- photo by Tierney Brannigan

Unexpectedly Familiar

Poetry

You want to hurt him
Just because you can.
It’s nice to feel powerful
In love.

You feel tethered to the ground
When you hold his hand.
Resenting the feeling of a grasp,
Heart hinged on a flesh clasp.

It hurts when he kisses you
Because he presses too hard,
Like he is pinching himself
Awake.

Between the layers of uncertain acceptance,
Dismissal.
Whiskers and eyelashes,
Cheeks and nose bridges.

The number of times
I have looked up at your face
And the light catches each feature
Unexpectedly familiar—normally different.

white jasmine shrub with trippy effect- photo by Tierney Brannigan

Distance

Poetry

Distance makes the mind grow louder,
Makes the heart grow prouder,
Makes my feet a little itchy,
Makes my stare a little bitchy.

Being far away from you
Used to feel kind of good.
You couldn’t touch me, or hear me
As long as I didn’t let you near me.

My space – my name – my life.
My freedom. My fears.
My safety – my body.
My fears.

I fell back in love with you
Just the other day,
It was love – it was drugs
It was our only way.

It’s good to feel close
And it’s good to feel you,
It’s good to be alone
In the room with you.