bipolar hearts.we use to watch Fight Club together, because she said that it made her feel a little less alone, and i could never reply so i held her in my lap.
and she told me she was kalea's dizzy mind.
and in real life, you would think nothing of anything really, because she watches the birds fly just like you do. the morning rises on the same side of her window, and she can watch the clock tick away hours, just like you.
and she told me she was kalea's spinal cord.
i watched her pick at her fingernails for too long, and always decided i would leave as soon as they started bleeding. her arms are full of scars where she thought she felt something crawling up her skin, only to find she was still alone. i told her i was here, but she turned over(and i can still hear her uneven breathing)
and she told me she was <i>
her.she is one hundred percent alone, minus him.her.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
she has milk white skin, and jagged bones. her eyes are pale and soft, and could make you surrender under her breath (and they will.)
every night she goes to sleep with a man who touches her, and she feels sick. and she wishes he'd just leave the hair in her face.
(because it's easier to hide tears that way.)
she dreams at night.
her milky skin is spilling over unfamiliar fingers. the freckles on her back match the ones in his eyes, and she feels safe. she offers him her heart, and he closes it into a box.
(she wakes up feeling ninety nine percent alone.)
she's in a nightmare
charlotte.it was halloween and charlotte was dressed as an obnoxious pumpkin, because her mother tries to make her a normal child.charlotte.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(and charlotte will whisper that normal children smash pumpkins, not wear them.)
when charlotte was seven she decided that she would swim far out into old pine lake, and hold her breath until the colors in her eyes turned purple, like the bruises that slid down her thighs and touched apon her fragile feet.
(and it was then that charlotte realized, that no one would be around to save her, and that just wasn't the point.)
charlotte decides to be called "char" because it sounds like something silent, and distant. when you say a word so many times in a row it just doesn't sound the same anymore.
(because charlotte wasn't the same,anymore.
charlotte's first b
still.one.still.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
her name is alice. there is a slight blood stain on the valley where her lips part, and her eyes are two supermassive black stars that can't show anything but hurt. she can't bring herself to look in the broken mirror puddles that are all over the ground.
(and i don't blame her)
she borrows her mother's raincoat because it smells like home. not the homes that are flooded with laundry soap or soft candles burning in the family room, but more like the paint she spilled on the carpet, or the whiskey on her father's breath.
(and sometimes, she swears she can smell her mother's sadness.)
when alice was little she remembers playing freeze tag with her mother. she remembers feeling anxious, and now she feels sick. "if daddy touches you, stay still, and don't make a sound."
william.dreams make him vomit.william.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
he has spider-leg fingers and eyes so cold they could stop your heart.
(and they will.)
every night william goes to sleep knowing that someone else is waking up with his only friend, and he wishes he could brush the honey-stained hair from her cheek.
(not the man, who can't even spell love without cheating.)
william dreams at night.
his spider fingers are creeping up the jagged edge of her spine. her skin is the color of milk, and lightly freckled. william keeps her safe, and has made a tiny door, where he keeps her in his heart.
(he wakes up next to an empty pillow, with an empty feeling)
william writes a book in his nightmares.
she is in every chapter. her legs stretch across every page, and taunt him with sex, and things that spiders are not allowed to touch. she holds
monotony.we went to vegas. you drove and i pressed myself against the side of the door and breathed out pictures onto your window. you planned to make it big, and i planned to make it a memory. i fell asleep through the city of lights, and it was then i decided that christmas didn't feel the same, and your hands were always cold, even through your gloves.monotony.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i sat on the hotel bed and thought of how many people sat exactly where i was. you were in the bathroom buttoning up your shirt. i clenched mine so tightly closed my back pressed through the fabric. this was when i decided this is what suffocating was like. you were talking to me but i only remember the crying of a girl in the next room, here is where i considered the fact, that i just can't cry anymore.
i told you i feel my flesh tighten when i wear dresses, but you insisted. you hit the elevator button and as the door closes, my stomach sinks. i study the man next to me and wonder if he slept through the drive here. it's then that i decide t
watching you spin.you're a disco dancing, drama queen with dirty hair and the permanent smell of stale cigarettes. but god, are you beautiful, twisting and dancing under circular lights,watching you spin.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
and vomiting when you're done.(acid does some crazy shit)
your hair was once blonde and beautiful like your eyes, but now it's laying in clumps almost everywhere, because you fucking pull out a strand whenever i'm around, i don't know why i do that to you.
but i never really ever offer to leave, either.
there's that one song that i always hear you listening to, it's the same old shit about love and loss and never being able to forget that special someone, i use to get mad at you for giving in to such conforming types of art.
but now i just let you go, because last time i actually made you cry.
"would you rather fly, or read minds?" i told you i'd rather read minds, and know what everyone thinks, because you can fly on a plane anyday, but no one ever thinks the same.
mertha.i like to seperate my thoughts into names, to keep them in order.mertha.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my lonliness is named mertha, and she'd like to meet you.
mertha sits by me on my bed and we draw pictures of tulips and snails and wonder when that math test was. she takes my hand and grips it slowly, while singing that song my mother use to sing when i was 4.
(and i wonder exactly how she knew the words.)
mertha walks with me in the rain and understands that i don't like to be asked questions in the morning. sometimes when i'm sitting in the bathtub with no running water she won't leave me alone, and mertha knows that she is unwelcome.
(but she stays because she knows i'll come back to her)
she hangs over my head when i'm getting dressed in the morning. mertha pulls on my flabby skin and reminds me t
She glows.I think that every heartbeat is a plea to be heardShe glows.7 years ago in Scraps More Like This
Beat one: I need you.
Beat two: You don't need me.
there is probably a reason why girls are the ones who wear makeup.
such as we tend to show our hurt more.
lies can't be seen beneath the foundation
you call it makeup
i call it coverup.
Beat: I don't want you to look underneath me.
i use to catch fireflys and throw them to the ground and watch as they glowed
i hope that when I die, i'll explode into a glowing galaxy.
Beat: I wonder if you'd kill me just to watch me glow.
those people that have irreg
annie.annie paints the end of her erasers red, so every time she erases something, it reminds her she is made of mistakes.annie.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and her mother would be proud, really.
annie has long fawn legs and can't remember the last time she actually drank a glass of water. the feeling of being dehydrated reminds her that she can in fact feel, and her father spends too much time away from home.
and her mother re-named herself "alone."
when she was six they found out she was dyslexic. her father told her she just couldn't see things right. annie went home and stared into the lamp light until her pupils dialated and tears ran down her face.
and everytime she spelled "love" it came out as "unknown."
annie has an uneven heartbeat, and when she holds her breath everything turns black, and silent,
The Day I Met God.I met God one evening.The Day I Met God.7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The funny thing is, i wasn't wanting to find him.
God was smoking.
"Why are you smoking?"
"I'm God Kalea, i'm stressed."
We sat atop a big balcony and watched his creations move.
"They're so beautiful", God was breathing hard.
But I know they aren't. they aren't. they aren't.
How do you tell God that?
"Why do people rape, and murder and steal?"
God's mouth is the shape of a sinking ship
his face carries the wrinkles of one thousand dying souls.
ianeverything starts out blackian6 years ago in Scraps More Like This
but ian sees her in red.
ian is the kind of boy to breathe in pillow cases, and lay in the fetal position waiting for sleep to come, and the outcome doesn't surprise.
(it never comes the way he wants it to).
ian is colorblind in his dreams. he wakes up feeling anxious and restless, because he can't remember if her eyes are really green, or blue, or where the coffee stain is on her favorite yellow jacket.
(the left sleeve, he could never forget.)
ian is neutral. black hair, black eyes, pale skin. he doesn'
his extent.it has been exactly eleven days since i have seen your eyes, and by eyes i mean them being really open. you said you know what you're doing, and i tell you that drug users can't tell the difference between reality and dreams. that's when you replied that your dreams died a long time ago, and i thought that maybe you did too.his extent.5 years ago in Scraps More Like This
i rest my head against the back of the bathroom door. there are scratches and paint chips on the wall. someone had wrote to call emily vurtella for a good time. i wondered if anyone did call emily, was she ashamed to have her name written in such a vulgur way, or did she wait every night for a stranger to change her life?
i tell you that you exist but you are not alive. being alive means having a heartbeat worth something, and yours beats for drugs and dirty sex. i'm sitting with you on the bed but i'm not really with you. your eyes are empty and hollow and they make me uncomfortable to be looked upon with. you tell me it's over, but i know that is the drugs talkin
lightening bolt eyes.he has lightening bolt eyes and one fucking killer smile.lightening bolt eyes.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
let me introduce you to whom i call "fire-fly."
he has ice white skin and something about the way his hair falls that makes me wish mine would conform to such a beauty.
looking at you for so long makes me feel. Really feel.
he calls them fire-flies but i say lightening bugs.
fire burns hot against his skin, and i can feel the heat in his heart
but lightening bolt eyes can destroy you.
but god, it's so beautiful first, but only at first.
he calls me his "freckled girl" and i call him my heart
and he says that i shine underneath the sun
like it was made for me, and only me
but he has telescope eyes, and those can see to the stars.
he has razor blade hip bones and they stab into me while i dream
lightening bolt eyes and freckles like stars
and in my bed at midnight is the perfect galaxy
and for a second we make one constellation
reflections.I watched you destroyreflections.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
by destroy, i mean explode
and exploding is the easy way out.
I'd rather burst into flames, the heroic way.
i made a puzzle out of our faces
i glued it together, i could never put your eyes together
nothing ever fit there was always a speck of something reflecting in the pupil.
but it was never me.
i'd hold your hand
but you told me holding onto someone was needy
"you hold onto life" i said,
or did you?
i picked up your favorite marble and threw it across the room
i watched you sit there, and stare at it rolling farther and farther away
i watched you let it go
you'd let me go, but no one would have to throw me.
smiles are for happy people
moments are for people worth remembering
puzzles are for people with too much time
reflections are for people who you want to see.
but it was never me.
The Day I Met God II.What do you say to the lonliest man in the world?The Day I Met God II.6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"I think you're doing the best you can."
but in my mind it played past tense.
the best you could.
For awhile I had this sudden urge to hold onto God's hand.
I wonder how long it had been since someone comforted him.
This time, I shifted, uncomfortably.
"It's okay, Kalea. You don't have to."
for some reason I forgot that he knew every moment.
God got up, and walked to the edge of the balcony
i watched him grab the purple clouds and pull them closer to us
"Kalea, do you know what it's like to destroy?"
Yes God, I do.
I knew he could read my mind, but instead I said
I watched God pull the clouds back and let them fly across the sky
God walked back to the balcony wall and held his head in his hands.
salt.she has tiny bird bones and her skin wraps around her like seran wrap. she shivers in the summer and her mother is there to remind her that this is no way to live. at dinner she eats until she wants to burst. she keeps the salt underneath her bed and pours it into her water bottle. it's taking longer for her to make the monsters leave her body.salt.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but don't worry, they always do.
her fingers shake while opening her locker, what did she have for breakfast again? wheat toast with jam - 85 calories, one piece of juicy fruit - 5 calories. the students watch her walk, a picture of shattered glass, but she's not concerned because a size 2 drowns her, and that's more than those other bitches can say.
the others cringe as she changes for gym.
she pulls at the translucent skin on her arm, following the vein down into her wrist. it's blue like t
roamin'i named him charlie.roamin'6 years ago in Scraps More Like This
charlie was the sort to sit on the concrete rather than the bench three feet away because it was ironic, his guitar case under his shoes and a cardboard sign on his lap that read, "roamin'." charlie was maybe twenty, with too many deceased train tickets and copper-plated coins turning in his jeans. i would bet the contents of his pockets that he couldn't remember where his hometown was anymore, what his mother's face looked like, or why he left.
i wanted him to hold his sign the other way, i wanted to see if there were more permanent-marker words scrawled on the back. i wanted it to say, 'drive me somewhere,' or 'take me to the west coast, take me back east.'
i wanted to drop my shopping bags and throw open my passenger door and tell him to jump in. his guitar case would go in the backseats and he'd kick his feet up on the dashboard and leave muddy traction prints along it.
i'd tell him to empty his pockets, see what he's got, make him chip in for gas money. i'd dr
melting point.I'd like to get you off my chestmelting point.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to heave one big cough, and you'd be gone
being alone is a lot like being sick
when i have you, i can't stand you.
I'd like to laugh at things you say
to feel something inside from you
laughing is a lot like lying
it's always at someones expense.
you always said you wished you could die young
to be living beautiful, and die beautiful
living is a lot like a puzzle
hematophilia"did you crawl in through the hole in the fence again?"hematophilia6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"then why are your knees muddy? and your elbows scraped?"
"because i saw a dog get run over on the highway by an eighteen-wheeler last night."
"yeah. i saw its guts unravel like streamers, like those snakes-in-a-can."
"yeah. there was so much blood; i rolled around in it, and it smelled like dirt and pennies."
"yeah. it's stuck under my fingernails, too. i can't fucking get rid of it."
"is that from rolling in it?"
"no; i scooped some up and put it in an empty vodka bottle so i could paint with it later."
"why'd you have an alcohol container in your car?"
"i forgot to throw it when i was at the redemption centre."
"that's for your anger management, right?"
"you'd paint with a dying dog's blood?"
"dead, not dying. and it was this really great shade of red that you just can't make with acrylics."
"how about watercolours?"
"i fucking hate watercolours."
"oils take foreve
trains wreck, ships sink.Listen:trains wreck, ships sink.7 years ago in Scraps More Like This
to speak quite clearly, i'm a train wreck that hasn't happened.
i can feel the people franitcally running around inside my heart
and when I bend forward, I feel mothers grasping their childrens hands.
i don't want to be alone.
i'd like to not pray 50 times a night for you
for something you can't hear or feel
but somehow, it calms my train wreck
passengers have something to hold onto
i always wear my seatbelt.
Everytime I hold your hand it feels 1000 lbs. too heavy
i pretend you pass your life into me
it makes me feel like i could live forever
i wish i could exsist. forever.
i could gladly turn this train wreck into a sunken ship
i could drown the world with my tears.
there is som
messages.it's twenty degrees outside, and when he breathes into the air, the smoke spells sex.messages.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
but not the loving kind, the kind where taking a shower just isn't enough to get the smell of him off of me.
he's all wrapped up into disney movie, magic shit. when i know that he is just some dirty subliminal message, and i'll get sucked in.(but i'll tell myself it's not my fault, because my sub-conscious should be more aware, and i'll pinch myself to make sure i'm sleeping.)
i know that's not right. (anything to keep me asleep)
if and when he holds my hand he squeezes 3 times, and that means "i love you." and i am aware that i should squeeze back 3 times because that is just courteous to do. but for some reason i squeeze once, and that just means, "okay."
(there is this part of me that wishes my subconscious could catch
Catching Paper Holes.We use to sit on the porch and watch stars. Well, I watched them and all you could do was laugh and say how they looked like little tiny holes that people had pierced through God's heart with their sins and lies.Catching Paper Holes.7 years ago in Scraps More Like This
I hate it when you ruin pretty things.
" I hate freckles, they're like mistakes made on paper you can't erase."
I was almost sure you knew that I have freckles.
You said sometimes you feel like you're running into the sky and when you fall, you fall into my arms and sink.
I wanted to tell you, that if I fell from the sky, I'm pretty sure I would sink into nothing.
You can't catch anything.
We went to the carnival, I told you I wanted cotton candy.
You said, "Cotton candy is for kids who have dreams and beliefs."
I wanted to tell you, you forgot to say lost souls, but I just bought a pack of skittles instead.
I finally told you that I was the one who sinned and lied and made tiny holes into God's heart.
That I was probably the biggest mistake, on the lonliest piece of p
winnifred.her name is winnifred.winnifred.5 years ago in Scraps More Like This
but to you, it's freddy.
winnifred has transparent skin. if she had much of a heart left i would swear you could see it beating. her knuckles are bruised and scarred and she never leaves the house without putting on her crooked smile. winnifred swears in church and bites her nails.
but i could tell you, that she sings while she tucks her mother into bed.
her spine juts out of her hollow body and she traces it with her fingers. she puts her fingers over her eyes and pretends to be in water. the bathtub fills up and floods her nostrils down to her lungs. she thinks of her friend mary, who fell off her bike and cracked her head open.
winnifred only remembers blood. no breathing, was she breathing now?
she is horrible at goodbyes. her mother is sleeping and freddy ca
quiescencewhen iquiescence6 years ago in Scraps More Like This
it is not
by the birds.