Drowning in Carnations

You said write a poem

about New York moments

we almost had in our arms.

I ignore you

only focus on the times

we had;

the walk hand in hand on Ste-Catherine street

the xmas gifts I gave you

in April—

you forget everything I remember,

that is how memory prevails

I could never be true to you.

I apologize for the past,

present, and dead future.

I apologize for being cruel

for changing when you could not.

You were not who I thought you were,

I wasn’t who you wanted me to be.

Bitterness is not changing

aging is ice skating on my dreams.

I held back

this is why I am not in muddy love.

I gave you corner bits

you wanted me whole.

I apologize for not loving you,

when I said I did.

At the time I felt love.

I am not a global liar.

I was drowning in red

carnations,

the smell suffocating me.

I wanted to melt in your arms

instead I was alone again

amongst five day old flowers

and a fake necklace story.

#januaryfalls18

Crystal Soul

It is not fair when you say

you would love me forever

and then never show up to prove it

words are just pebbles

and love is just the ocean

but actions and gestures

are the steps

to make my heart shake

my soul has already

been spoken for

do not ask to conquer it

for it is futile

worthless, unattainable

it has been claimed before

I was born

before you were born

my soul has travelled

endless waters

to come to me

I am sure others tried to claim it

for it is truly

a crystal soul

you can see all the shimmering light

if you step close to me

you have to almost

walk through me

to appreciate the glitter

and the reflections

but so far

no one has even attempted

to open me up

once-almost happened

twice-I ran home

and now

I wait

for my other light

to complete me.

https://www.amazon.com/Love-Vodka-Poetry-Glass-Hearts/dp/0995186537/ref=redir_mobile_desktop?_encoding=UTF8&keywords=Christina%20Strigas&qid=1482065013&ref_=mp_s_a_1_1&sr=1-1

 

to read a collection of my poems published and unpublished check out my link above.

thank you for reading my poetry.

untitled

if you could just dare

to fuck the art in me.

the kind of sex

that would put

us both on fire.

the part where you

never leave in

the morning. i

disappoint you

all the time,

with my past,

my present,

my unstable future.

if you could just dare

to love me,

none of it would even matter.

 

(this will be in my poetry book in a section with no titles)