Cailey Martin Poems

Girl sits in front of a
Pink and white vanity,
Feeling vain
But rather plain
...

Be striving always for the silence that dies
Between the rising wings of butterflies–
Not toward sleek shelters, paned with twisted glass,
Nor peopled halls, where the exalted pass.
...

The sidewalks in this city are positively filthy,
Trampled over by millions of leather-clad feet.
Some bare feet, too.
Dead flies, dead cigarettes.
...

Table
salt falling
in, clearing up
negative space, falling
...

Redecorating your room is like deciding
who you are going to be for the next
several years. I suppose white is always
fine... but that’s all. And you are more
...

It amazes me that I still have the capacity
To experience awe; defying the years
That have washed down my throat,
Stinging like saltwater. To think
...

I tried not to wake you up
but hoped the entire time
that you would. Before you
went under, laughing,
...

My ears are full of clay but I
Collect secrets like stones,
Trace handprints on the wall.
One day, I and all will be nothing
...

Yesterday, on the train home
I was sitting in the window seat,
Letting my eyes rest
On the lush green of
...

If Monet had seen
What I have seen,
Fading lilies might not have been—
...