Into My PainInto My Pain11 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Forsaken, why for?
Depression, no more
How do you expect me to live?
How do you expect me to carry on?
Why should I let this go?
Why cant we just get along?
Due to the fucked up events
You push me down and create more pain
Yet I am all alone
I am left behind again
For this is my pain that I have to live with
For this is the results of my life you toyed with
For this is the outcome of the game
Every beginning has to come to an end
Every time I try stand up (stand up)
you are always there to push me down again
Every time I try to get up (get up)
You toss me aside
Every time you reach back to me
I foolishly take hold of you
I know that I should stay away
But my loyalty gets in the way
Why do I always forgive you?
Why do you always hurt me?
Due to the fucked up events
You push me down and create more pain
Yet I am all alone
I am left behind again
Not this time
I wont let you back into my life
Not this time
I wont let you take over my mind
Not this time
I wont take you back aga
So Much Gone ByTo have gone so farSo Much Gone By9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and seen nothing
To endure so much
and feel nothing
To have searched so long
and found nothing
To have worked so hard
and have nothing
tell me when your heart stopswe are laying in cradles of heart stopping emotions, running through our hair on a sunday morning, and after confession and around mytell me when your heart stops6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
rose colored rosaries. i want you to know that when you leave, i will be watching from our curtained bed room window and i line up plants under my feet because if i am going to cry the water might as well be
put to good use. tell me when you stop thinking, or stop breathing. tell me
when you hear silence so keen in the air you run back to me and realize,
i am gone. i never existed. tell me
when you loved me.
so that i can forget.
nightmares.i. theres only so much you can say untilnightmares.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
lips crack open and words fall short.
he prays that his rough hands and broken thoughts
can get the point across, but
feeble touches never sounded much like love.
ii. he talked of how many girls he fucked,
while you told him how many boys youve loved, and watched as
the numbers were almost the same.
sex and love are completely different. you informed him late one night.
I know. his fingers whispered as they brushed along the curve of your spine, not-quite-lovingly.
iii. the only feeling you become aware of is one of
confusion and murky lightheadedness, the world
spinning and falling in technicolour.
you would call yourself numb, but you cant distinguish
the difference between feeling nothing at all and
(is there even a difference?)
iv. sometimes he would swear that the nighttime was his time, and that
the place he felt most comfortable was the dirty streets behind your apa
what have you done to meyou're ripping my eyes from my sockets, parading around town, sullen identities melting from your sodden fingers. you're a pro creation, destroying eternity, practicing masochistic fairy tales i've told centurieswhat have you done to me6 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
from now, under willow trees you hung dead children from. caressing tombstone head boards, we're lying with the dirt and breathing with the worms. i've sunk so low, the sky isn't blue, the grass isn't green, we're
burrowed in under a hundred years of mary sues and gary stus, i'm a suspender wearing, heart wrenching, grave digging
i'm cringing behind closed doors, spreading coffins like god split the grand canyon, like humans split the ozone layer. i'm burying you behind the taj mahal, beside the nile river, under the eiffel tower. this isn't
the fucking garden of eden. and you are devouring all the fruit of sin that
losingthis is not life.losing6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
trains, mechanical voices,
the questions my friends ask. this is not life.
every song reminds me of you,
sour honey sliding down my throat.
this is not life.
two weeks ago i was flying:
on your shoulders, unstoppable, screaming with
you down into the hallways of the future.
we didn't just seize the day --
we went for the jugular and strangled the world.
saturday sitting on the jetty
you told me one day we would be flying among the stars.
i leaned against you and stared up at the blackness.
i believed you.
on monday the story changed.
you assured me that i was just a way for you to repent,
to apologise for every bad thing you'd done.
your eyes had some strange fury, like a man
who has glimpsed the face of God and found himself wanting.
you would not look up from the toes of your shoes. (and i thought everything had been going so good.) today is friday and still everything is the same:
the train i sit on leads nowhere. i am afraid
and the chill is creeping
next thing we're touchingyou put the moon out with your cigarette as everything around you began to dim. you stirred the stars around as your body swayed against the porch lights, as you lifted the twenty-sixer to your lips.next thing we're touching6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you turned to me and said, "lets show this world what we're made of."
lets fuckin' show them.
we had our first kiss right there.
honest to god,
i'm not colour-blind, i just see colourless colour
i'm not starry-eyed, i just reached out and tore the sky down the middle
i still remember the salt strewned in the air as we fucked on the shore. it was one of those days where there was a lulling silence, a silence so serene it was like you weren't there. the only sound that spun down my eardrums was the slow rotation of the world and your vocal chords whispering out hoarse i love yous. your eyes drowned my vision and roared like waves passed my eyelids
that was when i knew
as our clothes stuck to our ribcages
and drops of water hugged our hearts
we'd fuckin' show the
because.i will never love you because you don't smell anything like the Ukraine and because i love a boy who watched the sunset over Kuwait and i love a boy who held his mother's dying hands, asked me to hold them too. i love a boy and he is not you;because.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
one with i-don't-know-what color hair but definitely-blue eyes, unless you count Texas, who i will always love but will never hold to my tongue or breast or spine again, and of course his eyes were darker than alone and maybe that's where i am because it's hard not to be alone when you love so many people.
and that's another thing because it's not just them. i love Alaska, i love her green eyes and the way she talks to me in dreams and i love Reese, how she bumbles and while i'm making a list, i love my mother. i love the way she held my fevered head and the way she danced at my sister's wedding (i love my sister too) and of course my baby brother with his busted lip and how he's taller than me now, like they alway
we're just run on sentencesi am camera eyes, taking snap shots of holy hemorrhages out east behind the ruins of a city full of liars and lovers and red wild flowers plastered under the noon tide sun.we're just run on sentences6 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
we, yes we, are all dying and so why water the grass if it is to just wilt in the sun, why eat if we are to rot under mounds of decomposed remains of the fools before us and oh the lovers strewn out five tombstones apart and a hundred centuries of love all mushed together under the ground in healthy patterns of crucifixes and i can feel it. i really can, when i walk down long dirt roads and along narrowing mountain peaks.
dead sparrows line the windowsill on a glistening morning not far from reality and i can count the snails leeched to the ceiling and the dirt around our cuticles in mere particle displays of how we spend our time digging holes a hundred feet deep and laying our pictures of a once happy time to rest.
With or Without Your WingsI remember those days, way back when. You used to pretend that I was your princess, and I treated you in kind, like the prince you were. You were my fairytale, my imagination, my past, present, and future.With or Without Your Wings6 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Well, maybe not my future. You might just be too larger-than-little-town-life to really stay here with me.
You always struck me as a city person, heart and soul. I can just see you there, surrounded by neon-bright lights and sugar-coated starlets and dreams bigger than I could ever be. And yet those cities still won't be able to keep you, because there's nothing quite big enough to blot out your light.
Or maybe you're just a small town kid, whose dreams outweigh his ambition.
I guess I can't really say, I'm not sure I remember the real you all that well anymore. Mom says I have too much imagination in too little reality.
I guess I fell in love with your Prince Charming, before Prince Charming grew out of you. You grew up, I guess, and there's really not all that much left
pangea of the heartyou spilled your heart out across the wires, across the universe, from one continent to another, as if pangea had taken place.pangea of the heart6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i had never met you, never cut through your skin with my fingertips. but i wanted to. we were strangers
you were the moon and i was a moth, transfixed, wings sputtering, thirsting to reach you and grab hold. we were strangers
who would flatten the ocean and make it permanently still, so maybe the ache would stop sailing like ships within us.
i had never met you, but i knew i loved you.
at night i count the stars between us, i imagine what it would be like if there was nothing seperating us. if all colour bled together, skylines shorten, cornfields simmer in the wind, roads rust and break off, finding themselves at the bottom of the ocean.
at night i count my breaths, i let them curl underneath my ribs and settle somewhere deep inside me, knowing underneath the sky somewhere you are weaving the same thoughts through your veins, letting your lungs synchron
Watching him change.He had grown-up hands andWatching him change.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
little boy eyes and a way of
saying things that made even
the heartbroken want to love
again; I don't think he could
lie to save his life, but he told
me about things that couldn't
possibly be true, like worlds
full of happiness and love at
first sight; He knew nothing
about real things like math
or how people worked, but he
was the only person who would
just lay in the grass with me
and not worry about the world
spinning away without us.
And sometimes, as he's falling
asleep, I can see the echoes of that
boy I loved; but when he opens
his eyes and opens his mouth,
he's who he's decided to be, just
another lost boy becoming a man.
He was my best friend and my
worst enemy and I wouldn't
give him up for the world, but
he's faded now and I don't
think he'll ever really glow the
same. No matter how much we
wish or how much we pray, he's
back in his land of pretty things
with no feeling, and words
that don't mean anything more
than what the dictionary says
lost hearts.dear journal,lost hearts.6 years ago in General More Like This
i know i haven't written anything to you in a long while. it's been a hard week and an even worse year. i hope you don't mind. i know you won't. it's just... i feel cold all over. i stopped bleeding ink when i get hurt. can you find my heart? yesterday, i think she drowned in the river.
Dear boy with ice for blood,
Please don't hate me, but I couldn't save her.
It was a Sunday night and I was tired. We struggled near the pier. She was shaking and screaming, she told me it wasn't worth it, she told me you didn't love her anymore. Her hands tasted like fire and her eyes were glaciers, and I sizzled and fell to ash.
I couldn't hold her back. I'm sorry.
don't tell me that! i need to believe that i can wake up and she'll be here. it's all that keeps my blood thawed enough to breathe. i wish.... i don't know. i never know what i want. it's not fair. maybe someday these words will bring he
if i believecopper eyes and the way his fingers tangled my hair was a revelation.if i believe6 years ago in Teen More Like This
he has hands that know me, hands that understand every pale particle of my skin. they touch me, by molecules, down to the core. when he holds me i can feel his fingers on my collarbone, just resting, just quiet like they have found a place to belong.
he has eyes that gleam like a cheaper shade of gold. he has eyes and they know my soul.
if i trust him. i would
run into the horizon and dive into sunlight like a dream. if i could. if i could stop my breath for one moment, just one moment, and stare into the sky, forget my paperthin personality.
chocolate hair and the way his jaw clenches is an ache in my bones.
he has a smile that promises the world, lips peeling back from straight teeth. it warms me, in molecules, the chemicals spreading in a chain of reactions right down to my soul.
if i trust him. i would
elope into the midnight, stumbling over branches and snapping twigs. if i could. if i could stop my tears for on
i cannot feel it anymoremy own heart,i cannot feel it anymore6 years ago in Other More Like This
the most terrible thing i ever knew,
more than the seventeen candles i could
not gather the breath to extinguish,
more than the shake in my fingers as i said
i could not love you like you love me,
more than the sheer face from which
my stomach sank
as you swore you loved me the same
way i loved you and how i knew in my heart
you were wrong;
peeling back my thoughts to see
how you loved her, seeing that the windows
gleamed because you loved her,
knowing that your dreams bloomed because you loved her
never feeling how your body screamed
i'm not your wintergirl.you're looking for thei'm not your wintergirl.6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
seasons in this silence since
we've gotten too cold.
This Poem Was Supposed To BeFor you there are terrible I love you's and this poem was supposed toThis Poem Was Supposed To Be7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
be epic. For the way your back does not apologize for being a sculpture
instead of a soft baby-skull. This poem was supposed to be epic. For you
I was a fisherman. We are forgetting something, we are leaving out the
punch line and this poem was supposed to be epic. Your kitchen water
eyes. My hand against your shoulder, moving down and watching the
contrast as you transition to sun-stained red-clay. You, a tobacco stick
to lean on, or twist upward. When the water is running, when the dusk
has settled and even the sun has been stolen, this poem was supposed
to be epic, hanging on like a cockroach. For you there are words like
undone, palmfist and fortress. I loosen my rifle-stance, curl my eyelashes
and place a cobra on the tip of your tongue. For you I was a woman,
and this poem was supposed to be epic.
asteroid catacombsit's late at nightasteroid catacombs5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and i am saying incoherent things,
my brain has stopped speaking to my heart
and my heart has stopped speaking to my brain and they
are functioning in catacomb like structures of emotions not
quite ready to handle two people not quite ready to handle
feelings not quite able to handle themselves.
my love for you is as vast as the universe, convoluted
beautiful meteor showers are rimming the corners of your
tear ducts, i am catching the haze of the milky way in your
pupils, from your lips pour asteroids, shooting stars and
creations ready to burst my insides and split my spine.
i'm a boy so lost in everything that i am stuck at the dead end
of nothing, but without nothing there wouldn't be a
something or anyone or anything at all.
i'm lapping at the shore of your inclinations, swarming at
the sign of beauty and romance and romeo and juliet may
be famous but here we go, writing our own fucking play,
this isn't meant to end in death, death of the word love
perhaps, we ar
prompt seven - nosebleedShe said,prompt seven - nosebleed6 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"I want you to love me so much it hurts."
"I want to be under your skin."
She was inside him. She was in his veins and under the surface and always on his mind. She sprawled out next to him on top of the covers and let her fingers wander between his blemishes, and asked how she made him feel. The sun was setting in the skyline and her words were weaving around him in time with her lips tracing his aura while he fumbled over what she meant. There were gaps between his teeth and he lost the words to tell her that without her, he was going numb. He was losing the sensations in his nerves and nervous system and nervous tendencies, his days were empty and he felt nothing and feeling nothing hurt. He was unresponsive but somewhere beneath his exterior he could feel her. He felt her in his pulse and in his flesh and it hurt while she was begging to get out, begging to make him feel.
She watched and her eyes were all cataclysms as steel pressed t
Bathtub loose-leafYou don't remember how you wroteBathtub loose-leaf6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
left them on my pillows
when I'd gone into the library
Folded in the shape of cranes
I let them in the bathwater,
sailed bubble seas
when the whirlpool drain
called them down
to the silver grate.
You don't remember,
say, it has been too long,
since I cared
or since I had the heart
Little blue lines
in the bathtub,
loose leaf paper and ink
will wave as he
mistakeswith tears escaping from my eyes, i wonder what has become of us. whether it is true or not if we have mistakened the love we felt for something else. the stars, they never took away the shine from the sun, so how is it that i feel i have given you everythingmistakes6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
now left with nothing, but days where the sun never rises, heart never feels, eyes never close. how is it that i can stay like this, think that maybe you will come back to me and tell me that i was never alone.
and maybe some people, they are just broken. their scars never fade, their heart never stops sinking. i like to think there has to be an ending to what began. how tidal waves cradle ruined sand castles out to sea, waiting to sway back into the shore once again
and maybe some people, will never stop waiting, will never stop loving even if it means getting hurt all along. hands ache for the tender sensation of skin to skin, days wind in and out without the blink of an eye, while i just know
i will never stop trying to fix y
those three wordsi know them. you know them.those three words6 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
we have known them since we were born,
have heard them whispered a thousand times
by mothers to their children --
but we will not say it.
i see you and those three words clog in my throat.
your fists banged at the door. 'baby,' you said. 'baby, believe me, i'd do anything for you' i closed my eyes, standing with my back to the wood, holding the necklace you gave me for my birthday in my hands. i wanted to believe you so badly it made my eyes ache, but i couldn't. i couldn't.
'when she started...when she...i didn't know what to do. baby, you know me. i wouldn't hurt you'
your words were honey and i could feel them dripping down my hands. thick and heavy, so heavy. my hands were wet with tears, the necklace tangled glittering in the lamplight. three words. you didn't say them, even through the pounding of your fists against my door.
--before this i wouldn't have minded anything you said. your hand in mine made me forget everything but you.
lady.this does not have to be a poem about me loving you is what the woman at the counter is thinking while attempting to write a good poem. she keeps throwing what she writes away. she keeps writing about him. and i need you like I need a hole in the head she thinks.lady.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she wonders about trepanation.
she wonders what it would feel like to be murdered or what the worst way to be murdered is and she thinks about how odd it is that she would think about such things to begin with. she worries.
she decides to bake some blueberry muffins. then she will write some poetry. on the radio plays folk rock like frank liked. or was it me that liked it? she can't remember.
she is sitting at the counter in front of the window. she is writing poetry on her typewriter, the muffins just got out of the oven. the house smells like a home, the house is glowing when frank ge