Preludio de una locuraQuiero que encierres mi locura
entre cuatro paredes
quiero que atrapes mi desesperación
que la atrapes entre tus redes.
Quiero que borres de mi espejo
la sonrisa que no es mía
quiero que rompas mi reflejo
la cruel sonrisa de la ironía.
Quiero que mates mis demonios,
quiero que rompas mis placeres
quiero que escuches mi testimonio
quiero que mires y que esperes.
Quiero estar sola, quiero morir tranquila
angustiada por mi muerte, despreciada por la vida
no quiero que me llores, más no quiero que me olvides
quiero que me perdones, más no quiero que atrás mires.
Aquí ahora te voy a mostrar
el sentido de mi locura abismal
de como todo lo que comprendías
se deshace en tus manos como la noche del día.
No quiero que preguntes
no quiero que dudes
solo vas a oír defectos;
ya se han muerto mis virtudes.
Mi consciencia desaparece,
dando lugar a un mar negro
donde no hay barcos ni peces,
cosa de la que de hecho me alegro.
001-IntroductionShe is.001-Introduction5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A nervous habit
that doesn't try hard enough.
Bite marks on hands and wrists
That look much worse than they feel.
The owner of these
chewed upon appendages.
She considers it Poor Poetry.
But carries on writing.
In bed and alone
Chain smoking a mixture
of clove cigarettes and marlboro reds
Enough to make her hands shake
and head spin.
Because she's trying.
Just so hard, to be one of
DullBrown hair that tells itself it's chestnut.
Mudbrown eyes begging to be Hazel.
Staring at the world in soft focus
over the top of her battered notebooks
and tattered stories
Pro..no fucking more.Fuck the pronounsPro..no fucking more.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
His name was
was a psychopath
I never could click my fingersI'mI never could click my fingers5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
semi-self inflicted scars,
a semi-permeable membrane
wrapped around me,
spewing semi-coherence to
the nearest passing eye.
A breadcrumb trail of
cigarette butts linking one
bar to another.
Sitting on broken stools
at one a.m.
Confession TwoHay guess what doll face?Confession Two5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
I did rename my guitar
So fuck you sunshine
Confession FourThe sad fact of the matter is,Confession Four4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm running out of ways
To describe you in
The Angels said jumpShe's gasping for daylight and her skin smells like copper. She can't remember getting off the Ferry. She's trapped. Her hands are covering her ears and the walls are weeping with her own blood. She punches 4/4 beats on the door until her knuckles shatter.The Angels said jump5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She grabs her head presses her thumbs in her eyes and tries not to scream.
It's been two days.
The door opened twenty minutes ago and she told Him she'd swallow sunlight and nothing else. The slamming door nearly broke her nose. She's dancing in the darkness to stay sane.
She's remembering home.
It's been four days
She's wondering if she could hang herself with her own hair.
The tiny room smells like radio wire and chlorine and she's pressing her cheek against the floor trying to hear her heartbeat in her hips.
It's been seven days
She saw daylight for twenty minutes over His shoulders. She was weightless as she fell back into the darkness. She's only breathing through bile and seeing broken angels with bleeding shoulders
Happiness can be so deceptiveIt'sHappiness can be so deceptive5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you and me
on Friday night
We're ripping of our
and as I'm staring into your
the radio screams Run.
So we pounded the pavement
in time to prime numbers until
our feet blistered and burned.
"Stop Listen Live"
We roll in the road
and screamed "I love you's"
Connie's my conscienceI'm not going to write about breathing and broken hearts, because that all comes naturally. You don't have to try to do that. I'm going to remind you that your walls are covered in the secrets that were never good enough.Connie's my conscience5 years ago in Letters More Like This
That you always liked being photographed but your losing the people who take the pictures.
That your amber eyes are set in scar tissue and that you love everyone because it's so much easier than liking them.
You're not the only person in the world who ever gets angry so someday you're going to need to stop playing hopscotch and spit out all that bile my girl.
You're always going to be okay because you know deep down that you're an innately lucky person.
Put on your eye-liner because even if you cry it all off you can paint it right back on again.
NaPoWriMo: Day 10 Have you ever been so cold, Sweetheart,NaPoWriMo: Day 102 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
your knees q u a k e d like that Jenga piece
that buckled just before your whole foundation
& no matter
how many times
I've restarted your heart,
one would think
I'd grow tired,
I'm still writing you in poetry
(in the most inappropriate of places.)
You forced yourself beneath my blades
& my fingertips,
Licking unstable knees,
you were death on my tongue:
angry apricot eyes, unforgivable sin
scaring my limbs &
haunting my dreams.
& I'd still try to save your fucking life.
It's a nunbers game7It's a nunbers game5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
We're Six and you're inhaling squeaky toys. I had told you that I love that pengiun from ToyStory and your trying to sound like him. You gave me a sandcastle to rule over and Emily smashed it, so I broke her nose.
We're Ten and eating leaves to show how much we love each other. In the back of the class you poured paint over Morgan for saying he hated my hair. From then on I'd only call you Suds beacuse you had to clean the whole classroom.
We're Twelve and We've grown. I have to wear a bra and I hated it becuase I couldn't hug you as close. You however seem rather fond of this. You started smoking and within a month I joined you.
We're Fifteen and your arms are covered in 48 scars for each of out 12 arguments. In the back of a bar I see you kiss another girl. I cried so hard that I think my eyes will melt. You gave yourself alcohol poisening and had your stomache pumped.
We're Seventeen and licking tabs of acid of each others tounges. We've been taking more and more of what e
Dirty LaundrySession 5Dirty Laundry5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I'm in group therapy listening to this girl who's removed the skin from her fingertips, she wants to grow a new layer that's never touched Him.
I'm wondering why I'd never though of that.
Then it's the next girl, with new lavender eyes and bleeding lips, she wears one grey sock and one red. Her name is Seffy and she's new.
"Seffy, Why don't you tell us about yourself"
"I'll never take off the sock that was shoved in my mouth when all of that what-notery happened.
It stoped me screaming
and now it stops me ripping out my eyes, screaming at the sun, playing hopscotch or what ever the fuck you're meant to do when every morning you have to ram your fingers in your lips to pin that signature smile into place. There's nothing else to tell.
Seffy is wearing purple and grey today. We're sitting next to one another and that devil with a psychology degree is preaching the values of trust. I've spent exactly 327 out of my 360 minutes worth of group wondering wh
Strawberries, A guitar and YouYesterday I hung upside downStrawberries, A guitar and You5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
by my knees in a pine tree.
And as I clung to the
curve of the branch.
I remembered the
curves of your hips.
I remember the day
I realised your hips
weren't curved any more.
They were pointed bone.
You played my old guitar
in the summer.
with out removing the stem.
I painted in the
NaPoWriMo: Day 2sometimes,NaPoWriMo: Day 22 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i have this
sudden urge to cut
most of the time,
i just wish I were anything
other than me.
a rocket ship, a bird-
the sweet flavored smoke
I promised my girlfriend
these briar patch lungs
would not in.hale.
i have fallen in love
with the strangest of things-
eyes that intimidate
the way my scars
play hide and seek
with her hands. -
the love letters
that start and end
pressed against limbs.
i make promises
i know i can not keep.
but if i were a liar
i would say i was tired
of writing to the stars.
No wander about it, just lust.You were a mid-morning train wreck,No wander about it, just lust.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the embodiment of poetry.
& my clavicles whispered too many nothings
about your summer storm hands,
folding like paper cranes
to make wishes upon themselves.
wishes are for the weak-
do something about this quaking heart
& freezing fingers.
I think I found God then,
NaPoWriMo: Day 8I was toldNaPoWriMo: Day 82 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to slice through the thickest
of scar tissue this evening.
Let all my inner demons
fall to the floor
& write them out
in my own black blood.
It’s not red anymore,
even though needles
& the bruises
laid out like war-lands
on my arms
I don’t think it ever was,
My mind is a mess
of free versed insecurities,
cat’s eye marbles,
& untamed forest fires-
I still don’t have the nerve
to slice open my skin
& bleed for her.
NaPoWriMo: Day 4I might have a scrappers knees,NaPoWriMo: Day 42 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
wildflowers growing on my knuckles,
& I might remind you of every nasty thing
you ever did,
but I don’t see you in my mirror.
I just have the right
to hate my own face.
I think this hitchhiker’s heart
is breaking &
I don’t have the medical skill-
or the time
to suture the pieces
back together again.
Confession OneRecently I've been wishingConfession One5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I could explain the
love you and
I Love You