There are two-sided arrows pointing toward her spotted heart, a restless one and a mournful one damned one for her lover of the cracked...
All Posts By Christina Strigas
He can move in and out of her as Rumi lovers do, the type of lover who knows your body before he touches, the sort that knows everything by...
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You give me so much more than I asked for I was a child once with sunshine in my eyes and dirt on my bare feet running past sprinklers...
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Take your fistful of misery hypnotize the crowd with your fake smoke half-truths lava tears poetic disputes pose on your marble staircase...
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The sun is in my hair it feels gothic to send black hearts yet truthful. You have gone blocked the rain from touching my skin. You came and...
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So you want to be a poet you think you can punch in and out So you want to be famous wear Gucci and parade across catwalks with a book of...
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People keep lies in their pockets like bubble gum packs. I tell a lie and my heart pounds, my nose grows I need to get spanked. I can lie...
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I thought when you lost your job you would need me more but your weakness divided us; your travels stopped those visits ceased to exist. I...
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I know that songs can erupt into moments. you do not need to dare me I will do mostly anything you want for me to be your naughty girl good...
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I cried most of the morning, stopping the voices. I wanted to kill you, but I married you instead. I had so much hope, yet I knew it was as...
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The words are peeking in at the oddest times they want to say so much but I shelter them from eyes. I need to protect their vulnerability...
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I turned into a vampire for you. I wanted to walk with you I wanted to love you. I never tried enough too busy in my own head. Overthinking...
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I am supposed to breathe better know all the grammar rules ask me how to spell a word you will not need to look it up here I am, your own...
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You wrapped up my ghosts in ziplock bags and tucked them into boxes without warning. I thought you would treat them with more respect but...
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I sit alone in my bedroom you sit alone on the couch. You go to work I stay home. You never call. I never text. Our wedding portrait is on...
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I like to read books and watch the sunset pull dirt out of sentences.
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I think my love language is all of you it does not even exist to write it down. I do not know how I function with my guts pulled apart by...
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It is a true story my narrative of this grand prix night in 2017. I went out for dinner and drinks on Bernard street in Outremont. It was a...