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Best Poems Written by Cant Say

Below are the all-time best Cant Say poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Cant Say Poem

Purple Rain Through the Window

Fall into me like I am blurry and let me
catch you like you are drowning.
Drowning in me, drowning in you,
the love of my all sits cross legged, drawing
the children we will not love each other long enough
to give life to.

You call me a dreamer like it is a bad thing.
When my face falls stitch-less and I don’t say a thing,
but I find myself rotten, you apologize my pressing the shape
of your cool palms into the hollow of my back.
It’s been a while since we’ve told each other anything.
It’s been a while since I’ve seen shore.

The love of my all braids my hair and contorts
the pattern of my soul just as she alters my scalp.
Having a brain is like having a monster
living inside your head and ripping apart
all that used to make you good.
Having a brain is like not knowing you have a brain
and not knowing who else has a brain, and when you find
yourself questioning who has a brain and opening yourself to anyone,
that is when you know you have a brain. That is when you know that you are hexed.

A witch breaks through my window but I am too busy looking at you.
"Look back, there’s a witch!" you go pale, "Turn around, we’re being robbed!"
Lovesick and stupid, I say, "baby I can’t be robbed enough until my heart is
ripped straight out of my lovesick stupid body," and
you just pale some more.
The creature grabs you and you are barely breathing.
The devil checks your pulse over my shoulder, and I just keep
lying to myself.

Details | Cant Say Poem

5 Unlikely Methods

1.)

I read a poem about a dream and so, I try to 
track my dreams, I try to catch them in my pillow case.
All night- I flip back to back, flippantly- up and down.
Keeping a cool face, hugging my arms like a cave that kills itself. 
Every time that I flip I must be setting my dreams free
because I wake up crying and my heart feels full, but 
I can't remember anything in between today and yesterday. 

2.)

In a motel room, I started a fire, then I photographed it
so I would have more of me and you to see

3.)

Attacked, embarrassed, shot by arrows- straight through the bone
We go hunting to prove ourselves, to build up weak bodies.
We go hunting but we both cry too hard at the deer 
before it’s even dead and then we forget our guns 
and we never hunt again. 

4.)

And so, I continue to write 
because I read something about someone who writes
and if he meant something to me then I guess people are real. 
That’s a selfish thing to say- Abhorrent, self absorbed, fifty words about 
what a monster I am as according to myself, dirty, throw a rock into the ocean, 
practice match-making and self loathing, paint some plastic with acrylic. 
Kill some animal, create a ripple. Sleep warm and frozen in a
								safe building with 
								four walls. 
5.)

								Promise to murder the third.

Details | Cant Say Poem

Pillowcases

When the moon crochets a pattern so subtle that I think I can hear it;
This is fluid feeling; this is a force I cannot replicate.
A calm silence in the silence- I can feel it. 

You’re in love and you're alive and despite every heart-shocking, benevolent
crucifixion you hold on the dead cross of a body you obtain, you are breathing.
This isn’t life, this is barely hell. 
We swore off religion lifetimes ago, this is just another hotel room. 

You don’t miss a bed bug infested sofa, sheer tastes like gold against your skin. 
You are hugging a silk pillowcase and I might just murder you with it.
Might just suffocate the ever-loving, charismatic, life-giving, illumination machine
that lines your insides, I might just stab you deep and call it sacrifice. 
Don’t know why I think about it- I’d never come close. 
Not on purpose, not like this-
Comfortable, crucial, alone in a lavender air pocket.
I might just do it when I’m blindly intoxicated
and possessed by the mere vision that contains me.
I might just rip the band aid-no preparation, Just throw the regret out of a 
one way bus ticket and into the nearest pothole.

The car stops short and we’re awake again.
Frozen at a green light, am I part engine or am I just the damn response?
I am the tallest man on Earth who isn’t a man and doesn’t belong here- 
Here being relative, Man being the half of me I hope to be when 
you need someone to buy you flowers or hold you in the rain.
Woman I love, To see a woman in the mirror- I do not feel I deserve. 
An idealistic hypocrite who thinks herself inevitable, I am.

I pull the covers over my head, pretending this quilt is a tapestry .
I pretend your words are a device and I am on life support, blood staining my
tapered hospital gown as I am miserable with stale breath, 
begging you to pull the plug.
I will call it a medical device. 
I will not call it love.

Details | Cant Say Poem

Dogs and Skeletons

There is a Glass Sea, a dead ocean,
It is snowing again but it is barely September.
You blend seasons like colors because I want to breathe again.

A tantrum breaks the sky open
and oceanic shards
divide the sand up into billions of stars.
We lie against wet grains with soaked
bodies and we pull the lifeless masses
from the shallow.
We call ourselves saviors even
though we don’t believe it, you hold
onto your seashells and I think to
myself that I must love you.

The sun is full, the equators cruel
the equinox is fanatical as a phoenix,
gold leaking around a cold square persistently,
we praise the orange
like it is melting.
Something dark claws at my eyes so I’m begging,
"tell me who made to blind fold, baby
Lie and say it was someone else."
You paint your nails and you smell of marmalade and zest.
You call me boring and we laugh because
"I hate you, baby, and you are my best friend."

There is a part where I push you hard against my wall and you cry for me.
There is a scene I am ashamed of.
I need to be needed and I want to be seen,
so I admire your eyes as if everyone else is featureless.

There are heads of sand,
heavy dunes bulking up and protecting all
they’re aware I will cause harm to.
I don’t remember being violent, I used to share my dark chocolate
and made bouquets out of butter flowers.

You are here with your wide prairies and deep forests and naïve blinking-
You are an embarrassed catastrophe-
stronger than the underestimated should be.
You would pin me down and knock me out,
I don’t understand why you are here now.

I hate things I do not understand and I hate things I find easy and so
I slap you like you are nothing and so
I slap myself because you are something.

My intestines are composed by the weeds of this bay,
Irish moss inks into my skin like dirty periwinkles.

Snow dusts pillars by the hospital- I promised myself I wouldn’t think about the hospital.
Spring washes over me, I do not the recognize the air.
I stick my tongue out to taste for something invisible.
There is a pet cemetery in my front yard- I bury biomedical clones with delicate touches.
I hold my love out and you sit at my door.