WE WERE SO BEAUTIFUL!

Andrea Gibson “How it Ends”

It’s been 3 years,
10 months,
And 27 days
Since the first time I saw you naked
Since the night you ripped off your shirt,
Stuck your boobs in my face and said,
“Touch them”
I touched them like a diabetic third grader opening a Snickers bar
You said,
“Hard”
I thought, Yes I am
But you are so soft
I said,
“Your lips, they’re like whale blubber—”
That wasn’t my best line
But it worked

Tonight in the grocery store, I found one of your hairs in my underwear
I pulled it out in the frozen food section and screamed,
”That is so gorgeous, it could kill a man!”
Good thing I’m a leprechaun
Lucky,
Lucky

Baby, I have no idea how this will end
Maybe the equator will fall like a hula hoop from the earth’s hips and our mouths will freeze mid-kiss on our 80th anniversary
Or maybe tomorrow, my absolute insanity
Combined with the absolute obstacle course of your communication skills will leave us
Like a love letter
In a landfill
But whatever,
Whenever,
However this ends,
I want you to know, that right now,
I love you forever
I love you for the hardest mile we walked together,
For the day I collected every sharp knife in the house
And threw them one by one on the roof
Then told the sun,
“Listen show off, 
From now on, you are only to give me blades of grass—things that are growing and soft
‘Cause there’s this girl who says she wants to float on her back through my bloodstream
And when she does,
I want my rivers to reach the sea”

D’you hear me, lover?
Do you know, the night you told me you had a crush on my ears, I swore to never to become Van Gogh
And look, baby,
They are both still there
Just like my firefly heart is still right there in your glass jar
I never trusted anybody more to poke enough holes in the lid
So on the nights you sleep like a ballerina, 
I try to snore like a piccolo
And I press my lips to your holy temples
And I say, 
I crash in to things in the dark
Even when the lights are on
And I am wrong more often than I am writing
And even then, I am often wrong

But when my friends are in the bathroom at the bar
Rolling dollar bills into telescopes,
And claiming they can see God,
I will come to you
Holding my grandmother’s Bible,
I will press it to your chest and I will bless it with your breath
And when you ask if I wanna role-play altar boys fucking in the church kitchen during Sunday Mass
I will say,
Hell yes!
But only if you leave a hickey on my ass
In the shape of Jesus’ palm,
So I can be sure I got nailed
Down

Lover,
You will never lose me to the wind
You are the lightning that made me fill my chest with candles
You are the thunder clapping for the poem that nobody else wants to hear
You are an icicle’s tear
Watering a tulip on the first day of spring
You melt me alive
You kiss me as deep as my roots will reach and I want nothing more
Than to be an eyelash fallen on your cheek
A thing collected by your fingers
And held like a wish
I promise whatever I do
I will always try my best 
To come true

I posted this earlier in the year but it’s still absolutely. breathtaking.

(via bittyscunt)

(via:thirdeyeblinking)

I can guarantee a haircut will never tell you anything about someone’s gender, who they love, or how they fuck.

Andrea Gibson “The Jewelry Store”

thisiswhatyoushalldo:

you want to know what the right wing never got?
that we never questioned the existence of god
what we question is his bulldozer, turning Palestine into a gas chamber,
what we question is a manger in Macy’s
and the sweatshops our children call the north pole, 
what we question are the sixty swollen lashes on the back of a woman found guilty of the crime of allowing herself to be brutally raped,
what we question is the idea of heaven having gates.

silly.

Andrea Gibson “Thank Goodness”

(Source: aandliketheseaa)

thewordunheard:yourpalmal:

I’m awkward on dates. So is Andrea Gibson.

“Your lips are so soft, they’re like whale blubber. That wasn’t my best line.”

This is one of the best slam poems I’ve seen in a while.

“I want nothing more than to be an eyelash fallen on your cheek, a thing collected by your fingers and held like a wish, and I promise whatever I do, I will always try my best to come true.”

NEW CRUSH ALERT.