B&B’s Poetry Series: When Love Makes You A Hot Mess

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Welcome to the first of my poetry series. Each week, I’m going to have a prompt/ theme and I’ll throw together a list of my favorites. This week, I’m going to shout out to myself (because I heckin’ deserve a good shout out) and my friend, Matt for starting us out with this week’s theme: When Love Makes You A Hot Mess.

I hope you guys enjoy this week’s poems!

 

Damaged by Matt Louden

I found her.

A Unicorn.

Soft, and warm, and beautiful

but my eyes deceived me.

They missed her red flags,

no,

Black Flags.

 

She moves through

leather jacket-clad crowds

like a Rolling Stone.

Crushing everything

and everyone

on her way to the stage.

 

Leading spotlights away

from the filth

and Depression clinging

to corners

of the rundown

New York City nightclub

she calls a soul.

 

Her song captures hearts,

and minds,

and fairy tale endings.

And I live unhappily ever after.

Dear Stranger I Could Have Loved; by Faren Coday

One day
out of many other days,
you’ll meet a stranger.

He won’t be like any
of the other ones.
He’ll shake your hand
and fill all of the lines
on your palms
like a comic
book.

You will memorize
the slight tremble
in between his lips
like
some people
remember
Bible verses
and you’ll add
up every time he
blinks
and it’ll be the only
math that makes
sense.

In that moment,
you’ll reach toward
your neck
to find nothing there
and you will
secretly wish that
faith existed
for you.
Even if it was
simply a bench
to worship so
your knees
could catch a
break,
the wound would
hurt
just a little less.

But please.

Gods feed on girls
that cross their legs
perfectly and
drink out of
adorable little
cartons of
apple juice,
not
chicks
that have no idea
how to cross
their legs and
drink
liquor
straight
out of the bottle.

You remember
as the hands on the clock
grip 10 pm
that
your perfect stranger
probably has
forgotten about you
and your
mess of hair and
even messier eyes.

His bare feet
must be somewhere, toes
curling against some other
girl’s sheets
and you’re three sheets
to the wind:
b l o w i n g,
but you remain–unmoving
b u r n i n g,
but you shove the flames
in tiny jars
so you can
hold them close
to remember
where
you
came
from,
to remind yourself
you have the ability
to burn
at all.

 

Keep a close eye on my Instagram (my handle is @LucyLightning) and watch for the hashtag #PoetryforFaren and submit your poems that fit the theme to faren.coday@gmail.com!

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