Missing YouI miss you more than I'd ever thought possibleMissing You5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
though maybe that's because I never thought I'd lose you.
I've dreamt of us growing up together,
one of those "happily ever after" endings
that never really ends
mostly because I don't want you to be gone,
and admitting that you are only makes it more true.
In my mind you're on vacation, the best, the happiest,
though I sometimes wonder why you didn't bring me along
and I have to remind myself that you just had to be
I still dream of us being together someday,
and when I awake it's still getting easier
to realize that it was just a dream, and that you can't
ever come back, but that's just one of those thoughts
that won't register.
And I still miss you, it isn't getting better like they said it would
I'm running out of things to occupy my time with
and thoughts of you are constantly flooding back,
as much as I pretend to try getting rid of them I swear
you do this on purpose, and I miss you terribly, and I wonder
if I will be stuck f
_promises_ xoxoi met you when i was three and you were eight and the world was still a concept i couldn't grasp._promises_ xoxo5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
it was so big - but it didn't matter, you were in it.
you came into my life between orange chalk stained knees and ritz crackers with peanut butter and jelly. you told me that i looked funny but you liked it because you liked the way i laughed. i had no idea what you were talking about i just knew that i liked the way you held my hands when i couldn't see my dad's gray slacks or smell my mother's lilac scent. it was funny because you had to bend your knees to keep from yanking my arm out of it's socket and it was okay because i was used to the tingling feeling in my fingers from my arm falling asleep.
i lost you when we left that house, with the spastic baby Labrador that liked to lick my skinned elbows and the little girls across the street who liked to play with my hair and dress me up in their two sizes too big overalls. because i was their doll and you were a knight and a cowboy and ev
This will destroy you."We are running away from home, and who we are, and your skin is meeting me at the edges where we tear our seams apart like ribbons waiting to be pasted onto some portrait, but what we're doing isn't going to make something beautiful. It's just tearing us apart, and I wanted to tell you that I'm not doing it anymore, but your lips slid into that scar I told you about, and I felt the edges creak and everything inside of me ached to be torn. But you-you, we- can't we just be okay?"This will destroy you.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"I know what it's like to want to stop, and grace yourself with blush and hope you look okay, and miss your skin, and press it to someone. But our skin isn't meant to blush or breathe, it is meant to break and blemish. We are swimming in ourselves, and our skin is holding all that in, but we need to flood each other and so we tear, and tear, because the ribbons let you out. They let you out. Would you rather bloat?"
"My visions of your face are blurred and I miss the skin on your hips because it hurts too fuck
fairytales.she doesn't believe in happy endings that last through eternity. sure, there are times where she thinks it's going to end amidst a wild rainfall of white petals and a carriage carrying her and her beloved towards the horizon where the sun was setting. but those exist only in fairytales.fairytales.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the real world, there's infatuation and crushes, whirlwind romances and pure lust. in the real world, you love with a slight voice in the back of your mind telling you that it's going to all come crashing down someday, and you better be prepared for it.
but even though forevers aren't real, there's always right here, right now, and as her heart leaps into her throat and her eyelids flutter involuntarily, she knows that he is here and now, and the burning set of eyes combined with the messy, yet silky mop of hair on his head seem to create a pull that drags her just a little bit closer to a and they lived happily ever after.
WrittenFlying across the room, the glass shatters. A thousand twinkling pieces glint up at me in the pale yellow glow from the lamp.Written6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
To be clichè,
that glass is my heart.
To not be clichè,
that glass is nothing more than a broken glass, littering my clean floor.
I read a little too deeply into life. I tend to over-analyze even the simplest of words and gestures.
I often ask myself why.
Why am I like this?
Why can't I just be simple?
Why. Why. Why. Why. Why?
...Why is that guy staring me down?
Oh, he's not.
I knew that...sorta.
I wish on falling stars, and even though I don't believe those wishes will ever come true, I like the idea, and so I do it. (Every chance I get.)
I read fantasies, where Prince What's-His-Name carries off Princess Blah-Blah-Blah and they all live Happily Ever After. (I like wondering what happens next.)
I run in circles going Nowhere fast. (Because Nowhere's the place to be, for me.)
I sing in my broken, halting voice, and it echoes off the walls. (It g
broken promises and petals.his voice breaks through her mind, travels down her back, and shocks her heart.broken promises and petals.6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
his first kiss tastes like candy canes and cotton candy clouds; sweet, fluffy, and nothing else remotely different.
she runs her fingers over his face, and closes her eyes.
her fingers dance out a soft, beautiful dance, and it soon brings her to a high.
"i see." she breathes.
his tenth kiss tastes like salt and pepper; unusual combination, and yet absolutely needed in everything.
her fingers traces out the soon-to-be-familiar lines of her new found piece of art.
colours flow out of her mind's eye and starts to stain the paper.
his fiftieth kiss tastes like heavy drum beats and a soft melody; deafened by the roar in her ears and the purr in her heart.
her fingers discover new colours and lines, and those happily position themselves for her in their right places.
it never stood as solid as it did right now.
his hundredth kiss tastes like home and promises; oh-so-used to it and whispers of
just a thought.the boy on the corner of my street is building a rocket. his skin is smothered in smoke and ash. his breath tastes of aluminum no matter how much his mother makes him brush his teeth. the particles adhere to his strands but he does not care because he just wants to leave and never come back.just a thought.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
his cousin delves deeply into her dreams, only coming up for air for a few hours. she sketches the creatures of pacific ocean eyes and multifarious races on the backs of her hands. their lemon yellow skin has painted hers and her mother spends most of her time in the bathtub, attempting to rid her daughter of these 'puerile' ideas. the daughter sits on her bed, crying as the red consumes the sunshine shade and at the fact that she cannot fall asleep.
i am the best friend to both of these dreamers. their parents cling to my wrists, begging me to not make their descendants depart. i say that if they really did love their children, they would let them leap into their dreams like antelopes. they just s
First AidI'm broken.First Aid6 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I think maybe I'm fixable, but that's just me and my opinion. [that was never very clear anyway.]
I'm not sure what, exactly, broke me; it could have been everything, and it could have been nothing. I can never tell how strong my ground lines are until they're gone. And, now, they're completely frayed and blown away, and there's nothing left to say "hey, look at how far you've come; you braved half the storm," so I wonder if I'm worth anything at all, and no one's here to answer that God-awful question.
Know what's broken? My tear-production gland. I've been given ample reasons to have crystaline droplets spilling over from my eyes, and yet there are none. None. Not one.
Though, crying has never got me very far in life, anyway. The most I got was a severe look from my mother and a "oh, grow up, this is ridiculous. you're fine, so stop being overly dramatic, girl." She never was one to put up with tears; she wasn't cruel, she just couldn't handle them.
I was taught, f
twisted.he sees cracked walls laced with melted gold. he weaves pleasures between wisps of air. he fits smoke trails perfectly into the sky.twisted.6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
he creates a magical world around the one they're in, and it's almost like a dream. he sees beggars turning into millionaires, princesses being rescued from the jaws of a dragon by their knight in shining armour, and everlasting roses.
but his visions are obscured by a heavy wall of nettle and thorns, and it pains him to to able to see the dripping beauty trapped within.
as he takes in the sharpness of his red hair and empty glint in his eyes, he decides that he's the most beautiful thing that he's seen in his life, pushing out pouty lips and curled eyelashes. he's beautiful in the way he describes his imagination in stabbing words and furrowed brows. and most of all, he's beautiful in the way he doesn't believe in anything, so he never has to be shown the truth in anything, because he already knows it all.
11.2.2010breathe. deep breath. no need to cry. crying anyway, of course. can't get funny looks to make you realize how ridiculous you look when you're in your own bed. deep breath. breathe. it's okay. that's way different than 'he's going to be okay,' which i will never again say. deep breath. slow. even. breathe.11.2.20105 years ago in Emotional More Like This
i miss him, i'm afraid i'm starting to forget. if i don't keep anything else in life... i want to have my memories of him. still can't believe he's gone. breathe. it's been over a year. sixteen, almost seventeen, months. it's been over a year, and i still hold his sweatshirt close, though it's been washed several times, hoping to find him somewhere in it. over a year and i hardly ever cry anymore, but every once in a while just can't seem to stop.
over a year, and there are days i don't think directly of him, and now that i realize this, i hate myself. i want to be happy, but haven't been in almost seventeen months. i want to see him again, but know that i never will. i want so many t
undefinable.describing him wasn't really as easy as they thought. they'd think of the first thing that popped to mind, and it tends to be; "he's like a stolid shell of whirling thoughts and jumbled words that seem to rush out of him in one sharp breath."undefinable.6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
to me, he's an unlimited number of letters, words and numbers. he's a collage of the world's images, and he blends them together into a pièce de résistance. he lives by his superstitions and adores clichés, and refuses to believe in the ordinary. he pulls people to him, and they are oblivious to it.
they say, "being with him is like plunging into a whirlpool, impossible to clear your head and get out of. it's like sticking your finger into a pot of glue and trailing it over shaved paper. never comes off altogether at once, does it?"
to me, being with him is like falling off the shorter end of a rainbow and narrowly missing the pot of gold. it's the feeling when you're at the highest point of the swing, where time seems to
My Heart on My SleeveMy Heart on My Sleeve5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You don't know who I love.
You ask me and I just smile and say
"Oh just a girl I know."
"Tell me about her!" You smile big.
"Well..." I'm slow to start.
"She's pretty, smart, kind, and has been there for me through a lot. I love everything about her." I'm smiling as I finish, thinking of the one I love.
But I don't want to admit the one detail that could reveal who she is.
The fact that I haven't known her long at all.
It was almost love a first sight.
After talking for a few weeks, hours a day, I fell hard and fell fast.
"Have you told her?" You question.
"How can I? I know she doesn't return my feelings."
"You never know." But the sad truth is: I do know.
"I still wish the two of you the best of luck." You smile as you say goodbye.
I wave back and smile as you walk away.
But what you still don't know
Was who I was talking about.
That the one I love
inner space tangothere was one brief moment ofinner space tango5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
oxygen disappearing into
then the moment was gone and
all the sunshine smothered
beneath your covers; bedsheets
soaked through with
into a noose just my
and there you sit with
selective hearing never
my particles will one
day drift away down the drainpipes
to somewhere on
the other side of your
radical free matter consumption;
what have you destroyed of mine
that still i cannot see?
and will there ever be a day when
you will cease to captivate me?
the chains around my hearstrings are
as thin as fairy wings but
your arms they hold me stronger and
you scream to me for more
and despite all the things
you have done to me you still
accuse my pupils of being black holes.
let the sky be lost.you and i,let the sky be lost.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we're not cut-outs from a story-book.
not misshaped and deformed pieces
of a broken star, unable to burst into
you're just the truth.
'i'm not telling you i love you
if i don't mean it. i hate when people
do that. they don't know what it
'so you won't say it?'
'no, i won't. not yet. not until i do.'
'that's good,' i smile a bit.
'no, you don't get it.'
'i don't think i do.'
'telling someone you love them when you
don't is like going to a tea party dressed
up in a ball gown: overdoing it. and nobody
cares. only the person in the gown cares.
all it does is make things seem pathetic
even before it starts. stupid fags who do
that have no idea what love is'
something like a pause ensued.
'oh,' i half-murmur, wanting to keep repeating
that one irrelevant sound.
'but one day, i will. with all my heart.'
it's like i'm terrified of your words, maybe.
the truth can hurt sometimes. but it's all
for the best.
'thanks for t
freak.i colour my wrists red just because it might scare some people.freak.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i scrub my hair extra hard just to scrub the dirty out.
i keep a switchblade in between my crevices just in case i need it.
i scribble all over a piece of paper just to see the charcoal run out.
i sleep right by the wall just to feel the chill of its breath.
i dip my hands in water just to see if the Loch Ness Monster would invite me into his lair.
i bunch up the corner of my shirt just to avoid seeing the perfectly ironed out smoothness.
i roll marbles along the floor just to feel the soothing throb when i step on them.
i stand with my face towards the sky just to delight in its misery when it cries.
i inhale needles just because they sew up my airways and i can barely breathe.
i peel away dead skin just up to the point where they cling desperately to my bones.
i line my thoughts with ripped up velvet just so they won't turn sweet and angelic.
i'm a freak; and thank you for loving me.
By ChanceHe keeps to himself;By Chance6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
he's not a big shot,
He really is happy,
with just what he's got.
She's a bit of a wild child;
she's never been silent,
But when the going gets tough,
she won't get violent.
They met at a club,
but not by choice,
His friends had forced him out;
he tried to use his voice.
She'd been down on her luck,
sitting home all alone,
Watching old movies,
and staring at the phone.
Her friends knew,
she needed a night,
To make her forget,
to give back her fight.
The Broken Rose,
the hottest place,
But both of our stars,
were hiding-- saving face,
At the bar,
next to each other,
friends acting like Mother.
She downs a shot,
he takes his turn,
Next thing you know,
they both start to burn.
He takes her out,
they walk in the park,
With the glow of the moon,
it doesn't feel dark.
A wooden bench,
they sit together,
Their moods uplifted,
like finding clear weather.
They share a kiss,
and then one more,
And only then they realize,
in the morning, it's four.
He drives h
the anticlimaxthe terrible thought ofthe anticlimax5 years ago in Scraps More Like This
choking on air that isn't there
please, oxygen be my remedy
don't let me fall apart
tonight there is no time to rest
on self-loathing insecurities
because we're all writing letters
on the backs of our hands
that we'll never send
to anyone, in fear of missing
the fairytale ending we so desperately need
drowning in saltwater tears
this morning they'll form the sea
so let's build a ship and sail
farther than you could ever believe
let's fall off the edge of the map
far from all redundancies
because we're all writing letters
on the backs of our hands
that we'll never send
to anyone, in fear of missing
the fairytale ending we so desperately need
fill my lungs
before this fire makes them bleed
There and BackSpunk and charm,There and Back6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
rolled up in one,
Safe from most harm,
while scaring up fun.
'cross strings and more,
A smile sliding,
into place, through the door.
Fear the unknown,
and you'll never see,
Why she's alone;
why she talks to me.
don't try to know,
Why she won't budge,
from the path she goes.
She's no fake,
a real true-blue;
When her pale lips quake,
it's due to, yes, you.
Look in her eyes,
tell me what's there,
Can you see through the guise,
or do you even care?
I don't understand,
A "helping hand"
only reached out to hit her.
God, it seems,
wants her on the ground,
No matter the means,
as long as she's facedown.
I may not be a lot,
but I'm holding her hand,
And when things go to rot,
I'll sure do what I can.
I don't know why,
or even when,
But I know that I've,
come to love the little wren.
So come on, let's go,
put up your fight,
'Cuz I think you're just a show;
in fact I know that I'm right.
You've hurt her for too long,
and it's hi
Three A.M. Three A.M.Three A.M.5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
My eyes are wide open, but I can't see a thing. It's three A.M. and I'm lying here in bed waiting for these champagne dreams to seep in and sweep me away
I lie here, consumed in your intoxicating scent, sedating me into an otherworldly comfort. It's the end of the day at the end of the week. It's three A.M. and all of the burdens of life have been relieved. I am now weightless and free to savor the moment.
Still tethered to reality and my mind won't stop. I focus on you to coax my weary eyelids into giving up their fight, but no matter how hard I try, my eyes are still filtering the pale moonlight. Through the shadowy figures and the shad
cold-blooded-fractures.fractured.cold-blooded-fractures.5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
the word feels jagged, bloody, and icy cold.
just like you and me, our hearts, and our promises.
he steps towards the door and turns around to look at him. he stares with an unwavering glance, and as he turns to leave the room, he scoffs.
"what did you expect from me? commitment to you?"
the door slams behind him with a silent shatter.
the fractured piece of wood tensed as it felt the weight of two bodies on either side of it.
he tells himself that he got what he wanted and it'll be okay. he wanted him and he got him. he just didn't want him anymore, so he left. he never was in love, anyway. but he misses the touches, the laughs, the warm, tingling feelings, and unknowingly, he's shattered beyond repair.
he tells himself that life will continue, but the tears won't stop, and he's already gone. and now all he can do is to wish that he could be invincible and just fade away.
the next day is a blur of colour
Distance collects like When I wrote "I love you" on your palm I never thought it'd mean more than I love your ribs, and your spine, and when your stomach slides over mine and blushes with heat against me.Distance collects like6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I didn't think I'd be leaning against the sink throwing up and thinking "I'd love for you to see me this ugly, love for your lips to brush against the goose bumps on my bare shoulder blades and feel the heaves shake my whole body and the only words that would leave those lips would be 'it's okay, i love you.' "
I wander in my house drunk, fall down the hall dragging my fingers against the wall asking myself where my bed is so I can tell you I'm sorry until I feel my chest drop and I sink to the floor swallowing myself in one thought and whispering: "No more, no more. I know."
I miss you in more ways then one, and it isn't all your lips or hips or ivory skin but it is your voice and heart and soul. You do not miss a soul if