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champagne clouds
starlight confetti fizzles out
on my tongue 
as i hear the tick-tocks of the clock
inch closer to midnight, a little 
cinderella moment
to myself
my glass-slipper feet are now bare and
my toes curl in the softness of
night-time new beginnings
there is no-one to kiss here but my own
fingertips and the rim of my glass and so
i decide,
a new year's wish-turned-resolution - 
let me finally learn to love myself 
just as much
as i want to love you
:iconcalliopen:calliopen 22 8
once upon a dream
a dark warm-lit room:
the stillness 
of breathing each other’s air
he held her tight and my heart ached,
a fragment of reality flitting by as i remember
your hair tickling my neck and laughing apologies,
i go back to soaking in this made-up memory
tender palms stroked her back like
yours did mine, a long time ago, 
murmured ideas of affection 
seep through the cracks of closed doors,
and i started to melt with her -
i woke up to open windows and bitter
winter air, nostalgia rising like bile
in my throat, and crying as if he
had been mine
:iconcalliopen:calliopen 20 6
sin city
did you feel like a god, when you
looked down on us living, loving,
about to lose ---
it takes me back to the children and how
we crouched in corners of dark classrooms,
practicing for a day we all hoped would never come ---
and maybe some of us grew up and
looked for love at a nightclub
and maybe some of us saw a silhouette  
of our dreams in reflective neon lights
and there were so many happy endings out there
that you snuffed out like a candle,
while you were busy playing with deities and fire
we were on our way to something more ---
maybe somebody met the love of their life and then
lost them 
with a twitch of your finger --- 
:iconcalliopen:calliopen 22 4
sweet creature
sour sweetness lingers
in the crevices of my teeth, as
we both start to blur at the edges -
today, we left one another behind
and then we found each other again
toes peeking over the threshold, impatient
and yet still unsure, 
we settle back into the nest of blankets on the 
rough carpet floor 
pastels mix together like our tequila and orange juice -
pink and beige and the warm orange 
of our futures
:iconcalliopen:calliopen 15 3
for my sunday
raison d'être. i like to think i was yours.
i like to think we knew each other in all of our past lives
and that we were always this way, always
over each other, you leave gifts for me to find
as i come tripping                                    
this road after you
and i reassure you in dropped forehead kisses and
affection, absentminded like
fingers in hair 
i like to think we wouldn't have needed this olive branch
or the way we love that we call "poetry"    
to have found each other in this world of ours, you are
worlds away   
:iconcalliopen:calliopen 23 10
the moon is beautiful
i told her that i loved her.
she gave me a necklace with a heart 
in response, the pendant sat heavy in my palms 
with the weight of words 
i couldnt unstick from the roof of my mouth.
years later, the pendant has gone missing 
somewhere in between seventeen and eighteen -
and i still think of her, shades of baby blue and lavender
take me back to soft skin cocooned in blankets,
stolen moments in her small room,
the sad bitterness of the unanswered, unuttered.
someday i hope to love like this again. i look up
at witching hour skies every once in a while and wonder
what magic brought us together for 
those three years i had - 
the night breeze ruffles my hair and sweeps through my skin
the way her hands used to,
i recall her freckles
in constellations well-worn with centuries of love and
cliches like these.
:iconcalliopen:calliopen 28 13
golden coast, halcyon days
the static from the oldies station seems to catch 
on my clothes like grains of sand.
they pile up in my nooks and crannies, erode the ridges
of my ribcage, leave me smooth, unwrinkled, soft -
i think to myself, this must be what being young is like
my coffee tastes more like cream and
the bumps in this seaside road rattle the ice in the cup, 
a wake-up call, a nudge in the side and wet droplets on my legs
you are the salty sweet smell of sunscreen on my skin and
freshly mowed suburban grass -
it is summer, here, 
i have a flip flop tan and
my thighs are sunburnt
:iconcalliopen:calliopen 26 4
the trees reflect the sunset olive-green-orange.
my new sneakers are too big for my feet, clair de lune girl
in sweet summer twilights— i was told once 
i looked how honey tastes in the back of your throat, i taste 
when i think of kissing you
:iconcalliopen:calliopen 26 14
go gentle into that good night
i smell tears and fresh asphalt. it is six in the
evening between day and dusk. between loving
and losing. you are a prerequisite for me
no longer -
but still i adore you from afar. i can no longer
look at my old narnia books with their cracked
spines the same way; c s lewis reminds me of
you, and the unfinished book about god i had to
give back before i was ready to say goodbye -
you took my childhood from me and yet it
lingers by my side, untouched. will i ever love
so thoroughly again? ever again look at
someone and want so heavily, and so delicately,
as if every pore of my being down to the very
marrow of my bones was merely created to wait
for you?
somehow i doubt that anyone would
wait for me the same way, the people i love
have always used me as a resting place to prepare
themselves for their journey. i have never been
the destination. i learn to reconcile myself with
the marks they leave behind, as they dissipate into my dreams.
i learn to wear them on my sleeve
and it i
:iconcalliopen:calliopen 31 13
icarus cliche
oh icarus, lovely
in the way you fall -
i wonder not for the last time if
it was worth it for you at all
tasting the sun on your tongue.
father's feathers pillowing my daydreaming head;
how could i ever have known ?
you were an angel i wished upon
your wings like a fairytale
the salt in your mouth isn't the sea spray, just
my tears a few thousand years too late
:iconcalliopen:calliopen 18 10
icarus cliche draft by calliopen icarus cliche draft :iconcalliopen:calliopen 9 7 april fifth draft by calliopen april fifth draft :iconcalliopen:calliopen 7 10
april fifth
brown sugar tastes like
pretty boys and sand swept hair.
my skin is burnt - tinged red - 
from where i touched you, you are a
sun / sun child / sun boy / oh. apollo, hello; 
of my six year old dreams when i didn't know
i would fall for someone like her instead
i was always more of a moon person anyways
:iconcalliopen:calliopen 18 9
california's in a drought and so am i
california's in a drought and so am i : 
it's been days since ive felt the patter of
            fingertips on my skin
        - i arch my back into empty dreams - 
i bare my neck, my bare skin, for you
god won't give me a reason to stop falling in love, and
            neither will my friends
and im as good as gone when it comes down to you, don't tell me
    i know the last time i thought about you, it was this morning;
      i chased your scent into my pillow and left it there
so we chased stars, once, used them as a means
to an end, and we fell with them
i'm sixty percent water and forty percent love, baby,
and i think i'm all dried up from when i poured myself out for you
you're a california rainstorm : you're next to me and then you're gone
:iconcalliopen:calliopen 28 19
do you remember, way back when,
we would wonder
or at least i did - i wanted it all
a thesaurus in your back pocket enchanted me 
into loving you : and the way you hummed when i was in your arms, as if 
there was nothing more in this world that you wanted 
( i almost thought
you would choose me over god one day, 
i only wanted 
you to touch me with those piano hands )
you gave me two months and i gave you two lifetimes, worthless and sad
think of me time to time. a part of me still waits for you -
you left me, unlovely, i have never loved a boy 
as i much as i loved you
:iconcalliopen:calliopen 32 5
(but who can fool a lover?)
so here we are, drenched in moonlight- 
starlight shimmers in the droplets on our skin
you chase the taste of wine 
on my tongue; i am winded
by the force you crashed into my life with but i
could never ask for anything less 
and you say you want to leave me as if 
you had a choice -
give me another way to tell you no; 
i'm sick of these wings and ill fall with you if you would let me
don't sneak away in the night, i want the stars 

to remember only our love; take my heart away in midday 
so i can see your face one last time
i know you believe in god and 

i know you can’t stop staring at the line of my neck but
i wish you would stop trying to worship two things at once
:iconcalliopen:calliopen 25 5


there is a tall, willowy girl who works
in the art supply store close to my university. she has freckles,
or at least, i think she does. i cannot say for sure. i didn't look at her long enough.
my measly excuse? i hate eye contact. (which is true)
i am (i feel) a ball of angst on the inside and
even worse (?) a mess of emotionless, frustrated emotion on the outside,
wanting release and wanting free streets and a megaphone to shout into,
always wandering slowly behind the
rest, quiet,
silent, like a dying dark sky or a resentful omega.
we connect for less than two minutes and
everything sort of changes in those ticking seconds;
i didn't ask (didn't care to, in the beginning (but...), (but) do i ever care to be
friendly or greet a stranger in public
if i
know we will not stray across each others
paths more than once? if i
do not wring my needs from
their breathing hands,
i find no reason to introduce myself and
set up conversation because i... do. not. care[, is that it, then? is that wh
:iconangelserum:angelserum 66 30
leopardflecked and lonely
& i think you wanted love in a girl,
wanted something you could rip apart
with your lips, something you could
give a shape to, something those
sharp teeth could puncture,
something the forest of your body could
feed. so in all my lovely
irony i looked down, at the
soft clay of myself, and i wondered
if i
could be the one
you were looking for
:iconpeaseblossoms:peaseblossoms 31 4
week one.
he held me under the water and i choked on it,
bleach to bleach, ashes to ashes, dust to dust
lungs crushed up like grapefruit. like rose petals in ashtrays.
what do you want me to say?” i asked him
as we sat there, dangling our feet into the deep end.
my ankles still stung. seven years isn’t such a long time.
“the truth,” he answered. i pushed him into the water.
took a deep breath. got up & left.
the lights
blind me a little
but i need them. i need to remember
                  that i can pull the plug out of the bathtub,
     that i can trail my fingers
against the wallpaper
             and there are no thorns here.
i need to see them
           like those glow in the dark stars
    on the ceiling. i like to write out my nightmares on the wall
:iconpansydiv:pansydiv 39 34
Dog Gullet / goes out at nite, she goes out Alone, she goes out Asking For It / in the tangerine city
She digs her way into the suburban gut with her fingernails / fucks up her shit / the apocalypse happening / inside you right now
& she gets to you / she climbs into the grates / of your house / of your sad droopy body
She scoops out the innards / she eats up your pulp / in the slime of the subway / slackjawed
In the grim blessing of the crowd i cross the desert /
the yolk of our holy bodies / Dog Gullet coughs up phlegm and she says
I love you /
I love you
& all I want is your soul like orange slices / disassembled clock pieces / mango juice
Me / with my skin peeled off / you underneath it
Me / in ur sweater / On my kitchen counter /
Eating you up / from underneath / curious / Dog Gullet watching from the windows / laughin
With sweet coffee and sleep clinging to my skeleton like sweat. All in a days work
& I got gethsemane living in me / gethsemane an acid thing / gethsemane the abort
:iconscheherazades:scheherazades 21 16
september storms sound like this
we stand outside,
arms around waists
careful of my cigarette,
careful of my wineglass,
careful not to speak.
eyes on the milk light in the parking lot next to ours
glistening in the rain,
ears on the storm and distant whispers
of hurried tires on the asphalt
across the tracks.
we inhale. we exhange wide-eyed giddy glances
and goofy grins,
hug tighter in our delight
at such sudden sweetness
after such a long week.
the air is not quite cool
and my arm itches
(i experience a moment's worry
concerning mosquitoes and summer roaches),
but instead of scratching,
i watch her turn her wrist
to better catch the sound
and for five minutes,
eight seconds,
we do not agonize over bills,
over jobs
over each other.
we do not talk;
we do not text.
we don't wonder if we really remembered
to pay everything off--
we keep our focus on this gorgeous summer rain
and are unburdened
even by the knowledge that our air conditioning's so fucked up
(we're too broke for repairs)
that we can't turn off the fans,
:iconemsoileau:emsoileau 11 14
i don't like the song
v is playing on the speaker
sounds bounce like jackrabbits in
this jigsaw room
futon fit for three
ocean deep
and me stranded in the middle
infantile and asinine against
salt-smacked waves
others floating half-baked
sunday evening breaking
laughter bolts from every
dusty corner and
then: you, textbook in your lap;
lashes gentle with each dart of
a new line, no
time for puzzles and people
                                                                                                     (and i used to own that
:iconblanketings:blanketings 11 1
come and be absolved;
all the earth cannot speak.
i don't ask
what you can
here in the afterspeech
we can be honest as
skin, eager as eve
to begin.
all that i ever request
and will die for,
smile wide at the morning
again and again.
come and be
all the earth
i don't ask.
what can i
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 17 5
water still falls against
a backdrop of novembers:
those frozen residues
and crude bruises once grown,
losing shape to those in bloom
water still rises through
the faintest of refractions,
the simplest of sunsets and
looseleaf papers unmarked,
bundled, shivering, bright-eyed
:iconblanketings:blanketings 17 1
amused should mean without inspiration
dear sensuality:
i miss you--
especially the way you'd step behind me,
slide your arms beneath mine
and push them down onto the desk beneath your fingers
turn the vulnerable forearms inward
and with your nails scrape shivering lines
so lightly up the golden skin,
make my stomach strive to outdo ropes
in its rigging skill (knotty, knotty boy me);
the way the white half-moons skated
back, forth,
across the expanses where my skin is palest
(and most defenseless)
til i shuddered, before finally
tapping your way up into my palms,
turning them over,
blanketing my hands with yours and
firmly, lovingly
(so lovingly)
curl my fingers around a pen
("write", you'd whisper.
"you have to.")
:iconemsoileau:emsoileau 21 21
the art of dying (bone dry)
"was it
nothing more than
a lingering touch,
spider silk
brushed once,
could it be a permanence,
marked coffee stains,
once touched,
always stays?"

(i always thought
that their love would last
but the dewdrops dripped
from the dream so fast;
now the past outlasts me)
"was it
muscle fatigue
or frailty
your hands
stretched out --
they glittered
even in uncertainty;
your gentle heart
still sings."

(but my ghost-fingers grasp
at glass strings
to remember,
and the song
is fading --
so i am, too)
"& that heart is your wings,
drums a beat to the sky --"

(and such delicate things
still forget how to fly --
but i'll keep trying)
:iconpeaseblossoms:peaseblossoms 31 17
lung cancer
you're asleep, 
and i lay
and breathe
i breathe
now i can do it unlike someone
on your chest hoping
that love is growing
with every blood-stained breath
your living-dead-flesh ejects-
it grows and grows
when heartbeating of yours
is breathing of mine,
harmonized symphony where we are one,
later we literally become
in coffin coloured like skin of our friends
that worked hard, and burned out
for us to start existing
- worry not,
they're shedding tears of joy
from ashtray.
:iconalessiah:Alessiah 29 18
dead wings
and i don't know / how
to put it
into words
(for the words
have left me
but when the love curved up
through my spine, tugged 
itself down
to let
the dust out
did i ever have the nerve 
to call it hunger
or was it something
more indelible
than me
:iconpeaseblossoms:peaseblossoms 42 10
underside of the tightrope
cling to that
light, it is fleeting
as warmth. it grows,
the dark.
it shows,
your lack of knowing.
it sings in your blush,
hits all the high notes
with a voice that
stipulations on
the validity of this
one plane can't envision
the under.
wonder and terror
echo the same,
when you touch the void
it learns your name.
it yearns to maim,
this undoer, this
gorger of
the unlucky sweet.
tucks teeth
around the softening,
sucks down
the screams.
the dreams
of the rest
are waking.
:icongliitchlord:gliitchlord 26 10
sunshine type
tell me something that I can't hear
trace your score in skin-and-bone song
because oh, I think you mean a little more,
love a little harder,
when your eyes
murmur what you mean,
bursting at the dilated seams
just like your o'erfull heart
sighing in time with mine.
:iconexvst:exvst 8 0
above those mountain towns
I think if we all lived that long,
we'd understand - like the half-life of
thorium-232, an embrace of erasure,
the clouds of strontium-90 in my atmosphere,
this addendum to distress;
without a breath of oxygen, a stop on our intransigent demise,
asking what, if we've forgotten, what -
is there left to burn, when we've purified ourselves and still
we look like broken little lights, feel like empty little lies -
and we will fill it with the emptiness of air,
the crowded mass of light against which I cannot paddle,
fill all the cracks with science, watch that mercury
sink right on down, right on down,
while we wait for all those higher things to drown
:iconcreativelycliche:creativelycliche 6 3


calliopen's Profile Picture
Artist | Literature
United States
19 / leo / infp

"i only write when im falling in love or falling apart."
i have a bad habit of falling in love with strangers and an even worse habit of making them into poems

"I don’t know. Sometimes you get a line, a phrase, sometimes you’re crying, or it’s the curve of a chair that hurts you and you don’t know why, or sometimes you just want to write a poem, and you don’t know what it’s about. I will fool around on the typewriter. It might take me ten pages of nothing, of terrible writing, and then I’ll get a line, and I’ll think, “That’s what I mean!” What you’re doing is hunting for what you mean, what you’re trying to say. You don’t know when you start."
-anne sexton, "how does a poem come into being?"

i am a liminal space, existing to be passed through.

credits for my avi and pfp go to the creators! unfortunately i dont know who they are but its beautiful n i love it

my poetry blog
my main blog
hi everybody, it's been quite a while.
i just wanted to say that from here on out i may be more active on my poetry tumblr,, and so if any of you would like to keep in touch with me/ keep up with my writing, please go give that blog a follow. dA has been a great community to grow up in, both as a writer and a person, but unfortunately at the moment tumblr is a much easier platform for me to use. 
no worries - i'm not deleting this account, and i still might come back to it time to time, but as you could probably tell from my lack of activity these past few months, it's no longer such a huge part of my life.
i truly hope those of you who i've gotten close with over the years will continue to support me and to stay in touch, i have so much love for this community and everything it's done for me ever since i started as a sophomore in high school and it's all thanks to dA that my love for reading and writing poetry has persevered and grown even stronger as i grew older. thank you for everything <3

so much love,



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pansydiv Featured By Owner Aug 31, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
calliopen Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2017   Writer
dustysparrow Featured By Owner Jul 27, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
HAPPY BIRTH(womb emigration)DAY :D
calliopen Featured By Owner Jul 27, 2017   Writer
ahhHHH thank u omg !!!!
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner Jul 27, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Happy birthday, dearheart. Have a beautiful day :heart:
calliopen Featured By Owner Jul 27, 2017   Writer
thank you :') 
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner Jul 29, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome, lovely. :hug:
DeeryDeerth Featured By Owner Jul 27, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy birthday, and may your new year of life be even more beautiful and creative than the last. :meow:
calliopen Featured By Owner Jul 27, 2017   Writer
thank you so very much <3
DeeryDeerth Featured By Owner Jul 28, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
You're welcome. <33
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