On my brother’s birth certificate 
                        my mom wrote, “human” under race. 

                        I know skin color is an adjective 

                        that comes with baggage 

                        & it falls on a spectrum of stereotypes. 

                        These labels haunt my idea of peace 

                        when we are nothing left but energy.

                        Imagine if you looked at your soul 

                        outside of your body, 

                        what color would it be? 

                        What type of emotions, efforts, 

                        & dreams would you see? 

                        Would you be a tornado of anger 

                        & unresolved issues? Would you be 

                        a sweeping hand of comfort? 

                        Would you be passion 

                        unfurling its petals? 

                        My mom knew that people 

                        liked their categories 

                        but she understood, above all else,

                        if this earth is called mother,

                        she can die of a broken heart. 

                        .Laura Curren.

                            It sounded rehearsed

                            like canned remorse, 

                            like so many times before.

                            Your feelings have changed,

                            your eyes aren’t the same; 

                            they look away & through me,

                            as if you knew me.

                            This is best described as 

                            a polite kick in the ribs

                            but what hurt me even more

                            is that I found myself 

                            saying your words

                            to someone else.

                            .Laura Curren. 

   










                                   Sometimes it's sneaky,

                                   it doesn’t come out of the shadows

                                   or slump on the floor,

                                   it comes as a dull ache for something more.

                                   

                                   Maybe I already have the answers,

                                   but not the courage to carry them through.

                                   It can come slowly too,

                                   not always breathing heavy sighs or sobbing

                                   but in overthinking quietly;

                                   one small rain drop of thought

                                   turns into an ocean

                                   & my heart is beating frantically, 

                                   while I'm looking for shore.

                                   But there’s this other part of me,

                                   waving from an island

                                   screaming, but laughing, 

                                   telling other me to come back,

                                   everything’s good right here. 

                                   .Laura Curren. 

                                   Why Are We Here?

M.                        Sometimes I think that people 

       were put on this earth to be an example 

   of every type of person you can be,

                          black & white,

                          & so many shades of gray.

               

                          There’s bad romance novelists, 

                          serial killers, nuns, clowns, 

             people I just scared by listing those things, 

             there’s people who won’t bother to read this, 

                    people who breathe passion into their life by words, 

                      biased people, narrow minded, open, a little too open, 

                everything & every swear word you’ve ever heard,                 every language

  every horrifying 

& beautiful 

case of life;

                     some so extreme, they seem to be from different worlds

          & some so painfully or wonderfully similar, 

                 almost every instance, ever so slightly different. 

                         Each code of DNA is a story

             & some people think their’s is very important,

                                       some feel insignificant,

                          like unheard tears in the ocean.

                         What will you contribute?

 How would your energy be described? 

                         Did you light up some eyes?

           Were you humbled or jaded by your experience?

                        The simple answer is that there’s no simple answer at all.

   .Laura Curren.

                  Your smile & laugh was  

                  a burning ball of gas

                  keeping me warm & alive

                  with brighter eyes 

                  But the closer I got to you 

                  the more you warned me

                  that you’re too much to touch 

                  & if I really knew 

                  what it felt to feel you 

                  I’d burn from the rush

                      .Laura Curren.

All I wanted 

was a reassuring breath 

across my shoulders while I slept. 

But I hadn’t become my own person yet.

Wanting someone else to show me who I am 

is like me telling you who I am; 

my words aren’t real 

unless you feel them. 

I can keep asking for somebody.

I can keep stepping in shallow 

until I meet my own depths. 

This won’t change 

if I sit in the same place & wait. 

This won't change until I offer what I ask for.

.Laura Curren. 

Apathy struck 

like a cut l didn’t even

realize was bleeding

.Laura Curren. 

A large coffee stain on my living room carpet 

used to bother me so much. 

Peppermint mocha bullshit. 

Irritating me from the corner of my eye.

l covered it with a decorative box. 

But l knew it was there. 

I’d come back to it & soak it with stain lifters 

& my frustration. l was persistent. 

It lasted through a couple relationships. 

One ex said “you’re never going to get that out. 

You could spend that energy 

cleaning the rest of your house.” 

But l say l don’t work that way! 

I’m always extreme. Either it’s a disaster 

or it’s like it was never there. 

The day the stain finally lifted from beige fibers, 

l smiled at its absence 

& the rest of my messy house.

 “See! l got it out.” 

.Laura Curren.

Crestfallen;

what a beautiful way 

to say 

it didn’t come out the way

I planned.

My head held up by mechanics 

& optimistic humor

has fallen, 

has sunk into a moment.

The deeper I sink 

the more it meant to me. 

Pain becomes my skin 

& I protect it by fighting.

But eventually,

violently, 

then quietly, 

anger leaves me 

& what it meant to me 

rolls down my cheeks.

.Laura Curren.

A large coffee stain on my living room carpet 

used to bother me so much. Peppermint mocha bullshit. Irritating me from the corner of my eye. 

l covered it with a decorative box. But l knew it was there. I’d come back to it to soak it with stain lifters 

& my frustration. l was persistent. 

It lasted through a couple relationships. 

One ex said “you’re never going to get that out. You could spend that energy cleaning the rest of your house.” 

But l don’t work that way! l say. I’m always extreme. 

Either it’s a disaster or it’s like it was never there. 

the day that mess was finally lifted from beige fibers, l smiled at its absence & the rest of my messy home. 

“See! l got it out.” 

.Laura Curren.

At the height of feeling low, 

l once asked whoever or whatever was listening 

that l wouldn’t care as much as l do. 

To take all this everything l feel

& make it muted. Make it nothing. 

Heartbreak & anger & sorrow & romance. 

Everything all at once. 

I’m everything all at once. 

Then apathy struck 

like a cut l didn’t even realize was bleeding. 

The colors in my heart left

& l became a host to vacancy. 

But even when silent screams stopped in my eyes,

even in this blank state of mind, 

l wished to take it all back. 

To feel is to be alive.  

.Laura Curren.

I know this world 

is not without darkness 

but just like the moon

pulls the tides 

love will always 

bring the light 

back to your eyes.

Plant seeds of kindness 

& you'll watch 

beautiful things grow.

Those who love you 

will string lights on your eyelashes 

& show you the magic 

you already had inside.

It's up to you though 

to find

the unfolding story of your mind, 

to love the way you read it

& share it the best way you can.

        .Laura Curren.

You're a memory for the shelf, 

a magnet to remind me, 

a postcard of emotions

& what your life appears to be. 

You're glowing teeth, 

salt around the rim,

fresh burned cheeks, 

a sexy sting.

You're a language I don't speak. 

You melt the taste of your days 

on my tongue. 

You're a vacation, 

but you're not home. 

.Laura Curren.

Being with you was as natural 

& frustrating as writing is.

Sometimes I just couldn't explain you. 

I didn't know what you were trying to be. 

I couldn't find the right shape for you,

your structure escaped me. 

I felt like I was climbing up a pile 

of my discarded words. 

I felt like it was all wrong 

& no one wanted to see me desperately 

try to make sense of something. 

No one wanted to see me analyze 

the smallest sentences. 

But other times, you came to me 

just because I thought of you. 

You knew without me having to say. 

You tore down doors. 

You spread over me easily.

Your mouth was starved for 

my vowels crying out. 

Every part of me felt inspired. 

When we were on the same page, 

I never wanted to stop reading it.

.Laura Curren.

The colors I've learned to see

are muffled by something darker. 

I know the sun remains 

burning without question, 

burning to save us all. 

But when darkness starts to suffocate, 

only my perception 

can illuminate this fact

that just like the sun, darkness, 

is always there 

& my anger makes it bleed over me. 

My calm is a cure 

for dimmed skies & eyes. 

My spirit absorbs sorrow 

& releases it like the rain 

that comes & goes. 

.Laura Curren. 

It's so easy to project the future 

onto someone else, to take their pieces 

& fill them in with your own.

I want to look past 

the fantasies I spread over their 

skin & direct them

into something wider than I know.

I want to project onto 

the mountains & the oceans, 

the vast unknown,

I want to finally see myself. 

.Laura Curren.

You told me to look in your eyes,

the black holes of your pupils 

while all your desires 

were swallowing my skin. 

You wanted me to see that you could be free for a moment. 

You could forget everything harsh while inside the idea of intimacy. 

For a moment you could forget who you were. 

You grabbed me like everything you wish you could for yourself. 

My touch spread love over your skin. 

The stars laced in my eyes & were lit by my ideals. 

I created constellations to predict the future 

& I scared the fuck out of you. 

Our world together couldnt be sustained. 

It erupted & froze before my sight. 

Our passion was a lesson neither of us wanted to learn. 

.Laura Curren.