his eyes.
oh, you should see him, though.
under my intimate eyes,
watching his every move as the lights lay low.
sometimes I think he is staring back.
I wish to kiss him, but that would be unwise.
so for now, I’ll just pray
that one day I can crawl into his skin,
to show and love him in my own way.
on the rare time I catch him staring
I cannot bring myself to look away.
his eyes look like they’re plotting
my death? I wouldn’t mind it under his tender touch.
Soaked in my blood, he would still be endearing.
For You
For you, I speak back.
Nod along with your every word as though it were fact.
For you, I bite my tongue till it bleeds.
always to please you, suppress my own needs.
For you, I am fragile.
Giving up all vagile.
For you, I am flexible.
Performing, ensuring I am not forgettable.
For you, I am a believer.
Tying myself down to something I cannot feel deeper.
For you, I am infidel.
Trying to avoid your living hell.
Clowning
The clowns made me do it you see.
They promised me eternal youth.
In return? I bleed, bruise me knee.
Twist, turn, pull out my teeth.
In order to earn my place,
Gifted with free housing.
Always do better, raise the states.
Clowning around, crowds howling.
Howling in excitement, fear
That I could fall to my death.
Beautiful circus carpet covered in gore,
Blood, bones, holding their breath,
As I twist and dive.
Selling control of my body,
For stable career and housing.
Throwing away my identify, to embody
The circus life, towering
Over the crowd of horrors.
By; Tori Sheehan
Language Learning
Learning his mother tongue
Can be beautiful.
Mumbling, motions among
Other things to get it right.
Sounds I've never made
Before effortlessly slip.
Foreign vowels decayed
Out of my mouth, moaning
As I get it wrong.
He kissed my ear,
Stringing sentences along.
Flustered face when I
First spoke with his
Tongue in mine.
Scattered sheets, "quiz
Me" whispered into his ear.
As he taught me
A new way of life
by; Tori Sheehan
Homebody.
The clowns made me do it you see.
They promised me eternal youth.
In return? I bleed, bruise me knee.
Twist, turn, pull out my teeth.
In order to earn my place,
Gifted with free housing.
Always do better, raise the states.
Clowning around, crowds howling.
Howling in excitement, fear
That I could fall to my death.
Beautiful circus carpet covered in gore,
Blood, bones, holding their breath,
As I twist and dive.
Selling control of my body,
For stable career and housing.
Throwing away my identity, to embody
The circus life, towering
Over the crowd of horrors.
By: Tori Sheehan
Bedrotting
Bedrotting.
Bare, puffy face
New ache scars rub off
Of dirty pillow cases .
As your curtain waits
To be opened, cough
Followed by cough.
You always had these phases.
Where you couldn't
Leave your bed for days.
Rotting away, unclean.
Skipping school even if you shouldn't.
Always trapped in a daze.
Untouchable, unheard of,
Until we'd arrive at the scene.
Scene of your room.
With plates, clothes covering
The floor, unable to see.
Darkness had consume
Every corner, rustling
Under your cold sheets.
Only leaving too pee.
Wasting away, wasting
Youthful days meant
To be spent in play.
Learning, embracing, chasing
Dreams only youth dreamt.
Not lying here dying, decay.
by; Tori Sheehan
Quotes On My Tombstone
Quotes on my tombstone
Won't mention how I
Prefer Summer due to
Longer lasting sky.
Quotes on my tombstone
Won't mention how I
Never left the house
Without a kiss and goodbye.
Quotes on my tombstone
Won't mention how I
Would sit, sketch at the
Washers, watching my clothes dry.
Quotes on my tombstone
Won't mention how I
Always drank at parties
Because I couldn't get high.
Quotes on my tombstone
Won't mention how I
Chased away every
Guy, known to cry.
Quotes on my tombstone
Won't mention how I
Cried from the loneliness
But took forever to reply.
Quotes on my tombstone
Won't mention how I
Was failed to known
How I would die.
by; Tori Sheehan
Tonight’s the Night, I Die
Tonight's the night,
I die, cold clutching
Myself on the right
Of our bed, memories flooding.
Tonight's the night,
I die, tossing, turning, praying.
First time in many years.
Lord, forgive me for straying.
Tonight's the night,
I die, my stubborn self
Returns religion, comes crawling
Back to thyself.
Tonight's the night,
I die, soaked sheets
From blood, tears and spite.
Your warmth would be nice,
Drown out my worthless wailing.
Tonight's the night, I die.
by; Tori Sheehan
Inspired by Hannah Banhg’ song “Tonight’s the night I die to a Frank Ocean song.
Morning After
Softest aftermath of sex
Is the morning after,
Awoken by notifications from her ex.
As she lays, unbothered asleep.
Her makeup has worn off,
She snores softly and slightly turns
I observe this most likely one - off
In great detail as the sun hits,
The pink bra tossed onto her lamp.
Her desk covered in perfume,
Books, cigarettes, and letter stamp.
Possible letters from her past lovers.
Now seeing her in daylight,
It's clear she has broken a few hearts.
If only they saw her now, they might
Take my eyes to treasure this mental image.
I'll never get this gorgeous girl's name.
It's too late to ask and it not be awkward.
I'll remember her laid topless, unashamed.
As a stranger laid next to her, in her own bed.
by; Tori Sheehan
Taste of Summer
I can still taste it.
It reappears on my tongue as
The Spring air gets warmer
And the sun stays out longer.
I can still taste it.
The aftertaste of champagne mixed with sunscreen -
Grains of sand in between my toes
My head aching from the sunbeam.
I wonder if you can still taste it.
The saltwater filling your lungs
Gum that had been in my mouth,
For three hours, or how our tongues
Melted together like candles left
Out on a hot Summer day.
I can still taste you -
Spring turns to Summer.
by; Tori Sheehan
Burn Me (Like You Love Me)
Every time our skin touch
Throbbing burns overcome
My fingertips, so much.
Until you, no person
Made me feel from one touch.
Burning sensation taking
Over my entire body.
Rising heat, heighten senses, awaking
My system, prickly - feeling foggy.
Burning, blistering body, acking.
For you to touch me
Once more - delicately destroy
My every sense, to touch, see.
In your destruction, there's joy.
No one understands, nobody.
How I find comfort in your warmth,
Embrace embers of the flame.
Trace, kiss burns formed,
By your touch, shamed
Me for being warmed.
by; Tori Sheehan
MARIE JANE / CHARLIE
Sittin pretty at a party
Too many bodies round me.
Drunk daughters, sons actin hardy.
Behind me Marie
Offers me to join Jane
And her in the bathroom.
Backrooms of my brain,
I see a young man whom
Looks like my father.
In his twenties.
Bloodshot, dishonour, throwin dollar
After dollar, pennies.
At the woman who would
Become my mother.
Marie, Jane and Charlie stood
there, dancin to music lover.
Slippin something to my father,
Then me in the bathroom.
Sat on top of a washer,
Lines on top of Matthew's
Toilet, like lines I saw
In my backrooms, while
Mother muttered something about law,
Charlie kissed her with a smile.
by; Tori Sheehan
Blue Hands
I moved to the other side of the country.
The sun sets quicker here,
Where horses run free.
It's been many years
Yet as five becomes the new ten
O clock, and Christmas lights appear.
All I can think about is your hands.
How quickly they grew cold this time of year,
That horrid blue colour.
Shivering, holding you near.
Removing my warmth, handing
My gloves to you, red ears
Peaking up, as students think they can sing
Christmas carols and volunteers
Clear the streets for Santa's parade.
I almost fell in love with you again.
Just from that memory, how
In love you think you are when
You're young. I fall in love with how you allow
Me to help heat you up, your eyes,
How cute you looked layered up then,
I hear the voice in my head of the lies.
The lies and hurt you inflicted on me.
How lonely it was when the world was just us.
No other comfort, contact, dreams, degree.
Simply just you and me.
The voice claims the word abuse,
As all my friends and family agreed.
How could my love be reduced
To such a horrid thing? I worried
If this was abuse, than I have never known love.
by; Tori Sheehan
Like A Stray Dog By A Pond
How naïve to believe
That you could love me
You weave compliments to deceive
Me, to follow you as a stray dog would.
Loyalty is best suit for someone sat mute -
Desperate to be wanted,
Desperate for love, to get rid of
This empty, hunger feeling in my stomach.
That consumes my lonely afternoons,
Walking in circles around the pond.
Push through temperatures, waiting for you,
Sat where you left me.
Like a stray dog by a pond.
by; Tori Sheehan
Questions
I wonder if my mother ever succumbs to the loneliness.
If men will ever learn to read a room.
When will my cousin stop posting her shaoliness .
How that couple acts out of costume,
Behind closed doors, in the bedroom.
I wonder what my friends say when I'm not there.
If humans will ever get along with each other.
When do you think cancer will find a cure?
How will it feel having to bury your big brother?
Behind his mask, what lies undercover.
I wonder if my friend's girlfriend cheated on her.
If fish and cats could breed into one.
When those friends with benefits clarified what they were.
How was my dad once his father's favourite son?
Behind that high school shooter, another handgun.
I wonder if this is all meaningless.
If we, as people, really add anything to this life.
When did other people stop seeing us?
How many people died due to laws such as pro life.
Behind every powerful man's back is a knife.
by; Tori Sheehan
WE CAN BE GIRLS TOGETHER
If Summer is promised,
I hope we can be girls together
Again - eat strawberries, play
Dance, swim, bask in the weather.
Soaking up the rays of our youth.
Maybe you'll fall in love with the guy,
We met last Friday - the party
Where I kissed your cheek,
Drunkly going to ask, are we --
But I was cut off by this boy.
Friend of a friend, foe of a foe
I couldn't fake interest till I turned -
And you - you looked so happy though.
Like you do on our beach days.
We'd splash in the cool calm water
Before coming back to our blanket -
Drinking juice boxes and, eventually a bit
Of wine, do you remember we drank it,
All before your sister realized it was stolen.
She too was a girl once, I'm sure she forgave us.
If Summer is promised,
I hope you finally see just how
I look at girls - like you.
by; Tori Sheehan
Blondie
Dyed box blonde bob
Paired with ridiculous red lips
That stain her fake designer, snog
Wannabe, should have been a sign
Id end up on my knees begging,
For forgiveness to a Blondie shrine.
She too was often on her knees
Childhood dedicated to a man,
Father, Faulty - some call God.
Begged for his approval, denied it, she ran.
Kneeling for another's man approval,
In her twenties when it all began.
Blondie spent many mornings in smoky motels.
Explaining her hatred for romantic literature
Nude next to one of her many affairs.
As they pretend to care or understand.
Unable to understand she hates the pairs
In romance and the intimacy of love.
by; Tori Sheehan
Italian Boy
My Italian boy was
Somewhat sore loser,
Who was always in-between jobs.
Loved lying, reading, and getting
Tattoos painting his body
With little to no meaning.
He'd lie and cheat,
Commit every sin known to man.
Acting above others while being incomplete.
As he was just a boy trying to be a man.
by; Tori Sheehan
Pinot Grigio
Pinot Grigio -
Tastes like early evenings in Autumn.
Cuddled together talking,
Feminism, boys, travel, struggles of being
Lesbian and how she just dreamt of a wedding.
Sitting, staring silently without a word -
Wondering if there was something there when
I cupped her cheeks, curled
Together, as my pupils danced over her face.
Pinot Grigio -
Tastes like the scent of suncream.
On hot August afternoons,
Beach days as a group of misfits, collecting
Petty crimes as gold stars while blasting tunes
No one else cared to hear.
My personal worst crime was you,
Lowly whispering into your ear.
Pinot Grigio -
Taste like stargazing in my hometown
On top of the tallest slide.
Skin shivering without aftersun
As we lay side by side,
Playing music from Bowie to Mars
Wishing we too could dance with the stars.
Pinot Grigio -
Taste like smoke of a cherry cigarette.
Sitting on the steps of Old Town,
Tears travelling down my cheeks.
After my guy best friend turned me down.
Crushing our Summer together, I called her.
Pinot Grigio -
Taste like my girl best friend.
Her tears as I confirm
I never experienced lesbian
Struggles, as I don't like a girl.
I don't like girls.
Pinot Grigio-
Was her favourite drink.
by; Tori Sheehan
IF WE RUN, IF WE RUN
IF WE RUN, IF WE RUN
WILL THE LIGHT CATCH UP WITH US
WILL OUR YOUTH END AS
THE SUNSHINES TO US
IF WE RUN, IF WE RUN
WILL WE LOSE OUR WAY
WILL WE STARE INTO THE DARKNESS,
TO THE GODS, TO STARE BACK
IF WE RUN, IF WE RUN
WILL OUR MOTHER'S LOVE DIE
AS WE BLEED OUT
SCREAM TO GODS, WONDERING WHY.
by; Tori Sheehan