I Tried to Tell Them About my Loneliness

 

Pitch black, every room full in a home

The heater on 3, but the home stays cold

Same thoughts on repeat and it's out of control

Retain more info when it's told and retold

I feel a type of way when it's damp and it rains

Think about growing up, each night, every day

Don't really know who I am

Don't know what to say

Now every night, I just lay here awake

So I wanna send everyone a text

With something like, " Yes... No... Yes..."

So, tappity tap on the screen, press, press

Hopes to stimulate and feel less alone

Let's talk about school and then digress

Still solus and brain's on its own

~Tina Meeks

Here's Just a Story That Means Nothing

Morning was only a blink away 

until the scary moment of not knowing

when I'll see you again.

A night never feels like enough.

Your body, I can map out from memory.

Your eyes, I've lost myself in.

I want to tape our hands together until they sweat.

A night is never long enough to

keep me contained and composed enough to

remain coherent,

and a night isn't long enough to

spill every story and explanation

out in front of you.

~Tina Meeks

Love's Got Nothing To Do With It

 

Before I perish

I want you to know,

every leaf in the streets that fall from the trees

 are how many times I fall for you

and as they race down the roads,

it's effort to pioneer new ways to 

remind you.

~Tina Meeks 

More Ruminations

 

I'd rather be steeping 

like boiling hot tea.

So hot that the steam curls into itself

in mid air from 

the highest diving board and into

a pool of sexy, that you are.

- You are a megaphone and well spoken

for miles on end and no filter

because the truth is the only way,

and fuck any other mantra.

I just want you to like me as much

as you appreciate a good pizza.

~Tina Meeks

Recent Ruminations

 

Deeper than marrow, 

you have stowed away to the center of my being,

and belong.  

Erupting the heart thumping.

Impatience to get rid of anything around and focus 

on the way you breath deeply.

And to hold you close.

And exist in a private realm 

and make believe

that we are the only ones that matter.

Grasping your small hands to mine,

fitting effortlessly

like parking at the marina to follow the waves.

Wading in the stillness.

Feeling the car shift from the wind.

Glance at one another to see what's caught the attention.

Watching the sun shift, reflecting in your eyes.

Like sucking up your presence

through a straw and embracing

as the smell of your hair slowly takes center stage...

~Tina Meeks

Apartment

 

I dreamt you were stacks of concrete and trees

with holes.

You breathe throughout the night and hiccup 

suddenly.

I only want to lie to myself

and pretend that you are a simple

piece of this puzzle that I like

to pick apart little bit by bit,

and dissect single elements while spiraling

into loops of thoughts 'til lost in a cycle

of endless questions.

It all started with you and you lead me

to riding the thought train of

what you might mean when you creak at night.

If I'm missing something, am I supposed to listen harder?

~Tina Meeks

New Published Work Update

 

Thanks to Nnọkọ Stories, I have 3 more published pieces of work! Feel free to check them out!

https://nnoko.org/6-14-17-mint-green-other-poems-tina-meeks/

Fuck It.

 

When I woke up in the morning,

I wished it'd been the middle of

the night

so there would be enough time to fall 

deeper into another sleep.

To roam as I may.

To be alone and drift through

half real realms with truth

injected into them.

So I could pretend to give a fuck

about what ever the hell.

I just wanted to go back to sleep

and hide from facing emotional tolls

that have already got me unhinged.

Shackle me to the ground.

Play me like hopscotch made of

brittle bones.

Build castles from what's left and make it pretty.

I just wanted to go back to sleep for 

a little while and wish that by the time

I open my eyes again, there'd be something 

different in front of me

and won't choke me from behind.

The alarm went off.

The moment it sounded, I sighed.

Laying there for a moment.

Turning to the other side.

Glancing to see how much light was shining 

beyond the curtains.

I thought, fuck it, and got up.

~Tina Meeks

What Ever You Wanna Call It

 

I love the way you linger around

in the room after leaving.

Deeply inhaling the pillow to bring you 

back to the forefront of my brain.

Sinking into a cloud of peace.

Diving into bliss from a mere smell.

In love with the affectionate thought of

hands grazing together.

Delicate touches that grab my attention.

All it takes is the essence of your being 

to carry on a euphoric, uplifting 

grounded place to be.

~Tina Meeks

Depth from the Rooftop

 

On this full moon night

rules have been broken.

Boundaries reset are 

bound to reset again.

Leaking anything but pink ink.

Eating apples from a tree I've never seen

that someone else has picked

the fruit of

and forgot to also bring the leaves,

all while holding the tail end

of someone else's dream.

 ~Tina Meeks

Brush it Off

 

Brittle bones.

Ballpoint fingertips.

You have raked through

the memories and exposed 

timid specks

of segregated, sanctioned off,

and tattered echoes.

~Tina Meeks

Just Another Mini Rant

 

Fear is like exploding shrapnel and

exposing my inner turmoil. 

And these random tangents disguise

themselves to be relevant 

when it's really a simple act of avoidance.

That's more terrifying than the truth.

~Tina Meeks

Write it Out, Explain Later

 

When is the right time to celebrate

pen to paper?

I hope they marry 

and have a happy ending of spilled ink and

the outcome is the explanation

and a matter of splatter. 

~Tina Meeks

Writing Session

 

I'd like to find my space of comfort

within the confinements of 

twigs and leaves.

Between the dew drops belonging 

to blades of grass.

~Tina Meeks

Yesterday Morning

 

The day is making something

of itself already.

It's gloomy and the crows banter.

There was a truck that pulled 

out of the driveway

and almost hit a woman and her kid.

With no remorse, the truck continued down the way.

~Tina Meeks

Sleep Deprived

 

Hands and mouth circled my body

like a shark,

and I was the prey.

I closed my eyes to pretend to be alone

or away from where I was at that moment.

Opening my eyes,

I'm was sitting on the couch.

Blinking, I inhaled the remnant of scent

from hair that rubbed against the couch cushion.

How long will it linger before

never coming back?

~Tina Meeks

Green

 

While they still reflect green,

I only hope it's not a dream,

or that it's not only a projection of

what I want to believe.

When I'm here, I only want

to paint a picture of 

what is around me and 

let my mind take hold and lead in a direction that can make sense somehow.

Exaggerate and pretend that what I see

is something else and loveable 

when really,

there is no emotion attached whatsoever.

~Tina Meeks

Ain't I Sweet?

 

I can feel my own soft magic.

My own tender touch and whisper.

I hold poise between my teeth

and tough decisions deep between

the coarse crevices of my cracked skin.

My wrath is sweet like honey

and I control when

to release the bee sting with it.

~Tina Meeks

Consent is Sexy

 

We Waltz around our words together

which is a familiar past time

ringing prominent in my hands.

Draping over my chest,

holding onto my dignity and 

carefully allowing a new chapter to

be created before me.

I think I sway and shuffle.

You... maybe a Salsa,

and we somehow meet in the middle on rhythm

for a moment until continuing

our own solo y sola.

This is something we speak not on,

it only lays at our feet to decide for itself

when to peak.

I wanna know what your skin feels like

without touching you.

I don't know what I am 

other than what I feel.

And who are you in this world?

You must exist beyond this realm

-you told me of the iridescence in your dreams.

How dessert fell right in front of you 

for one reason or another

and you were open to the taking.

Your nerves have exposed themselves.

We have been rearranged into a position

to ask for permission.

And yes, baby, we have the permission slip

right in my hand.

All you gotta do is grab it.

You will then have permission

to give me slow hands (if they're clean).

Let me feel your grown out hair on my stomach,

or your caress at my kneecap.

Stroke my toes how you wish

and play with my fuzz

that won't fit in a ponytail.

This moment hasn't happened.

These happenings are shy and stuffed

under our sleeves 

for no one to see until

the sleeves are not worn.

~Tina Meeks

...

Melt me with your voice.

Spoil me with compliments

or teasing,

because I wanna get led in a direction

where I have no choice but to choose. 

I'd like to see our fair skin intertwine

and play tricks on me

'til I don't know who's who.

-Our lips, awkwardly divulge stories

and telling secrets

we'd otherwise guess.

I wonder if this dance would tell us something

and I'm curious if our legs would accidentally graze.

Maybe then, we'd have another routine.

~Tina Meeks

Haypress

 

Disappearing into the brush
yet, far from alone
It's enjoyable just being here
and knowing the creating is endless

My nerves get the best of me

A blue-haired juggler with a dog
bikes in
followed by a slender lady in glasses 
with focus

We've all come to rest the mind
and witness the murder of crows
and conspiracy of ravens
in addition to
other unknown birds with unexplainable sounds
and intangible sun behind the trees 

The mindless skilled nature
presses into my memories
like pressed flowers in books

Every breath is a distraction 
from movement that is excessive
and echoes from San Francisco not far

From where I'm sitting, the trees have sacrificed
themselves to maintain a pod
of sanctuary and shield from the television
of sky with acrobatic clouds
and the sound pollution from other cities

I'm too shy to strike up conversation
with the tiny tweets
and ferns that sway
There's enough wind to chill
my uncovered legs and wish I had
longer socks

This place communicates on its own
by the branches ability to sign language
and leaves with a trace

The sun begins to move behind the hilltops 
and air, more still

The first breath is to accept
the natural embodiment of an alternative home

Breathe again and allow for a journey
that can't be predicted
and disconnecting may mean,
the strongest connection that can
possibly be powered in the dark

Another breath to remember the way dirt smells
How vines and whatever these trees are,
compliment each other

Breathe again

See what happens next

~Tina Meeks

I Forgot Something

 

Maybe I don't mind that smell in your hair

and how your clothes smell of nothing.

The center of your back 

is the softest

part of you, 

yet I forgot to breathe 

when we came that close.

~Tina Meeks

I Speak No Names

 

You know that disgusting feeling

and cringe you get 

when you find a hair in your food?


That horrific sight of floating particles

when you see someone's sneeze

floating in the air?


You ever have that moment when you realize

your feet actually do kind of smell

after a long day and

the socks must come off?


When you accidentally touch something sticky?


The sight of lipstick stuck

to the rim of a glass you're drinking from?


Shaking hands with someone

you know didn't wash?


Ya know how ya feel after

stepping in dog poop or gum?


That annoying feeling

after choking on your own spit?


That is how you 

make me feel when I see you.

~Tina Meeks

You Took My Mind on This Thought Stream

 

No promises, no commitments

Just hopes of keeping up with

the everchanging destinations

Reconstituted with every glance around

You glanced away

Don't call it a spark or a flicker

Simply something gorgeous to look at

Your dimples are rhetorical 

to the visionaries of the world

Sipping sweet tea, minus me

Barriers between our hands

and the rest of our bodies

Nothing I know better

No time other than this second

that flashes before our eyes

with a dozen hidden messages

that are meant to leisurely dissect

and make sense if we let it

Let poetry drape itself over

your stomach and legs.

~Tina Meeks

Flower

Sinking my fingers into your soil.

Every ridge on the skin of my hands

has become surrounded

by the silky smooth

warmth of your being.

Tender and teasing with

a game we toss back and forth 

at each other.

I ponder the feel of your nose

on the back of my neck.

Do you care to know what

my hips feel like when you grab them?

Do you watch my lips move when 

conversation is afoot or

is it just me?

I glance and let

the gaze rest before you.

My eyes, feasting

upon what ever shade your skin is at the time.

The rasp in your voice

serenades me,

like a hummingbird's wings 

fluttering

by in a jiffy, 

and there's no way for me to capture

a moment in time with you

closer than this distance we've mounted up.

Our translucent walls allow us

to acknowledge

each other's presence, yet

never get close enough to commit

to a memory holding anything dear.

The nearness is never near enough

and the further we continue

this routine, the harder it is

to process that my fingers

only daydream about

gardening in fields.

I can ponder all I want

and become curiouser about

your texture

until my mind goes numb with guessing.

~Tina Meeks 

Feels

 

It was fun when we'd touch 

and my heart would tickle.

You'd grab my attention from the tips

of your fingers.

When you'd speak, 

I'd watch your mouth move

so I can follow when you're taking me

on a journey through your story.

Thank you for your offerings,

for the faint coconut aroma

when we embrace,

for the eye gaze that puts

my mind on hold for long enough

to redirect me to smile.

~Tina Meeks

Secrets

 

I want you at the edge of your seat.

I want you right next to me.

I want you to dance aggressively 

and spin around to fall,

but you'd make it look like a routine.

You do this thing that is a spectacular ending.

Suddenly up,

then down.

Your body is a voice with wind gusts.

Your taste buds are a secret.

You are surround sound.

You are renowned.

Knowledge takes you around the world

without warning.

Will you be here tomorrow?

Tomorrow, will the day bring you here? 

~Tina Meeks

(Unfinished)

 

I like having secrets.

They are the curves at the edge of a smirk to myself,

The reason I keep quiet,

Why I listen first.

The inner demons raise havoc and hands,

going parallel with the thumping

inside my skeleton.

I like the ability to control

the walls I let down and who can enter

and climb up.

I like to dangle people over my cliff

and see if they can handle it.

If someone can bare the brash

and ash 

on the surface of my skin

before attempting to burrow in a place

deep down in the graveyard and marrow.

Assuming some human is a brave enough fellow

to sink in, blindly.

Stick around,

clog my pores without suffocating me...

~Tina Meeks

When I'm Paying Attention

 

For whatever reason,

your body makes me hum

lightly to myself.

Between the toes that

occasionally see the light of day.

The abandoned skin, an imprinted flower

that needs fresh water.

The 5 grey hairs hiding

behind and between the rest.

The best I can do is

construct a remembered section of time

to recreate a moment

that has gathered my smiles

and protected my greed.

~Tina Meeks

The Pull

 

Grasp me like a doorknob.

My body, cold, until coated

with caressive play.

The heated blanket of romance driven

euphoria, lingering between

our twinkling eyes.

~Tina Meeks 

The Body is a Temple

 

If we sat eye-to-eye

in the usual spots on the couch,

our voices would carry and

intertwine into the next hour

after hour somehow.

If our vessels aren't already full,

tomorrow would be a temple of touch.

~Tina Meeks

Ships in Life

 

The wind kisses my cheeks.

Trying to reciprocate right back,

my breath surfaces around while

you meander 

to the peak of the fog.

And I begin to understand that 

this interaction is minimal and emotionless

yet, I'm bouldering through feelings

with little to no grip.

This is it.

We are no other than ships in a lifetime

and almost missing each other.

Colliding like icebergs to water's reflection

and coming together to build 

a touchable existence when touch occurs.

If only you knew this was the case

as you wander the waters.

If only I could understand that your ship

never anchors for more than an instant

from fear of swarming sharks.

Your net hasn't cast itself,

though you bate for fish that may line up 

to your timeline and won't tangle.

Afraid to catch a bite

but the fishing is so fun.

At the inner most corners of my mind

there are crevices of your presence after

an adventure you interpret as a hunt...

I just enjoy the chase.

~Tina Meeks

(Unfinished)

 

The boy in you said

it was okay to quiver and cry.

The beast in you woke and roared.

~Tina Meeks 

Impact Pt. II

 

Maybe my laugh lines will

wanna be crows feet in the sand

and I'll have so many miles under my belt,

from Lofoten Islands

to the edge of my smiling face in Abuja.

If I turn out like you,

maybe rhyme and reason will come together

for clarity,

even just for a night of charity

for my own benefit.

~Tina Meeks

Impact

 

One day, I might be like you.

My skin could carry moments in time

where I can tell and project

what was once upon in the space

I used to be with somebody

who wasn't just a secret dream.

~Tina Meeks

Oh, Rats.

 

You and I have diluted away 

and into the sewers

where rats now laugh at the sight

of something so sad.

~Tina Meeks

Lift

 

Where's this head of mine swimming to?

Into a pitted gulch concealed by trees

and spiderwebs.

Watching as the spiders stretch across from 

branch to branch,

making it home.

I want a home in the sky.

I want to float effortlessly away.

Helium, suspend me.

~Tina Meeks

Before Bed

 

When you blink,

I wish to not fall off like eyelashes do

so innocently.

I'd rather float on by like a leaf

caressing and rocking the surface

of a stream before sinking.

I've had these dreams...

If there's ever a tomorrow morning,

I think I'd reach behind me

to make sure it wasn't just pretend.

To entertain the skies in your eyes

and not miss a cloud go by.

~Tina Meeks

Exposed

 

What's love mean

when the only response is the echo

of self in the distance?

Vulnerabilities are the truth

and the truth is,

feeling vulnerable is hard

when the exposed wound does not

spend the night caressed by love.

Honesty is vulnerable.

Exposure is embarrassing.

~Tina Meeks