The face you make is priceless.I've got wrists like empty pockets,The face you make is priceless.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and a spine I made out of your weekly pay.
You crack open my bones, and scour for the loose change.
Blunt enough to smoke.Fuck you.Blunt enough to smoke.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Now neither of us are worth my poetry.
We Bleed in PlagiarismIt's not their fault that they have nothing to write about anymore.We Bleed in Plagiarism4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Before the goodbye write meBefore the goodbye4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
immortalize this life
beyond my last gasping breath
beyond my lifeless form in a sarcophagus
beyond silent stark tears that stream
from the eyes of the living
in the place of the dead
write me in this moment
your words engraved upon my skin
take me apart with your expression
like plucking the petals from a daisy
strip me down
and make me
write me magnificent
find some splendor in me
stitch it into the fabric of time
my story coupled with your tongue and pen
words never pass away
they can lie forgotten, covered in dust and decay,
but they await discovery
lonely until an attentive eye stumbles and sees
write me memorable
You'll Never Understand...You'll never understand...You'll Never Understand...3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But I'm glad you don't.
Because that would mean
You'd have to go through my pain.
And I'd never wish that
Swallow My AstronomyHe had a black hole for a mouth,Swallow My Astronomy4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and eyes like the dying stars that I would never collide with.
"Speak me the universe," I told him.
He laughed, and swallowed my galaxy.
Am I Good Enough...?Legs crossed on a cold basement floor,Am I Good Enough...?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Blood stains painting my flesh,
The wounds deeper than ever before,
A white gown now a short black dress.
Long tangled hair clinging to my tears
Wind howling through the trees,
Moonlight painting a sky so clear,
And darling, I'm going to be set free.
My fingers scratch at the blood on my skin,
A delightful pain at the thought of a touch,
And hey, everyone who said I wasn't worth it,
Now am I good enough?
Sick of societyI may live inside my own, twisted universeSick of society3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I may change, sometimes for the worst.
What's normal to me is not normal for you.
Sometimes I just do what I need to do.
Behind a brick wall, I hoped someone would break it
I threw out my heart hoping someone would take it.
But I got tired of hiding and tired of hating
And instead of throwing myself at every guy, I'm waiting.
I'm sick of the person I tried to be
So basically, here I am, I will be me
I'm sick of the hatred, would you not agree?
.. Basically I'm sick of society.
Simple MathDying, I decide that I miss you again.Simple Math4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I add up my love for you,
and divide by zero.
'queer' for the skinfinger-tipped cigarettes,'queer' for the skin4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
please don't touch me.
i am only the girl next door
with coal eyes and pale lips-
the blankest of blankest lips.
i am only i am, i am only me,
i am only the sickest me without being
too much of me, the sickest me
of you and me,
i am not a god-complex with legs.
i am not the her with lying, buckled knees,
with all those smiles cutting into her skin,
i am not her- the her
with closets poison on her lips.
she is just a skin-cratered dream.
I won't tell anyone.Mouths made of masturbation, and eyes like dying stars,I won't tell anyone.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you aim for something short of profanity.
Desperate, but not SeriousI knew nothing of love,Desperate, but not Serious4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and you knew something of lust,
so we were something short of compatible
This time we'll both be sorry.Ignorance is the shade of your skin,This time we'll both be sorry.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and you are always bleeding your colors.
This Charming ManPlease tell me the words that will make you stay.This Charming Man4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I never want to say them by accident.
comatose.i never told you:comatose.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i hated the way you smelled
like winter, like
fog or listerine or
something long forgotten.
i guess i miss you the way
i miss brooklyn,
all thirsty for a song
i've never heard, pining for
a place i've never been.
i never told you:
i keep your old promises all tucked up inside,
like bruises sleeping fallow
along my hipbones.
i promise i'll love you always, i promise
i'll fix the coffee machine tomorrow,
and if you let me,
i'll fix you
well, you never were a fixer.
what you are is tired, and you never understood
why this fucked-up little town
unmade its bed, swallowed an ambien,
swallowed you. listen:
we were always comatose, clutching
hands gone cold
And Daddy always lied.My legs are covered in bruisesAnd Daddy always lied.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And I have a scar by my left eye.
I’m not allowed to smile, though
And I’m not allowed to cry.
I think my right arm’s broken
But shh, don’t tell my dad.
He doesn’t like to worry bout me
When he’s already mad.
I have a burn on my left wrist
From when he pushed my arm
Against the stove, the hot, hot stove
And did a bit of harm.
I have a bear, a teddy bear.
He doesn’t have a name.
He makes me better every time
I’m feeling hurt and shame.
Today, my dad came home kind of late
A beer still in his hand.
I closed my eyes and waited.
He screamed, he shouted, and…
Well, my name is Mary Starr
And this is how I died.
But daddy always loved me.
And daddy always lied.
someone's octobermaybe tomorrowsomeone's october5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i will lace my fingers through
my ribcage, or
lay pennies in the hollow of
my throat, just between
(i carved my skeleton
with my bare hands, so
leave a wishbone at my feet
& let it break)
maybe tomorrow i will
on the sidewalk, all skinned knees and
scraped palms, and become
someone else entirely:
i will unfold my eyes
and linger behind them,
warm as winter
cyclic motioni. every sad story starts with love.cyclic motion4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
ii. there is you sprawled across the bed
with your ankles tangled in cotton covers
and the golden waves of sunlight
breaking themselves through fissured glass
to drip into your hair like bright honey,
your hands reaching upward
as if they were young birds waiting on wings.
you wept for those flightless, wet-beaked children
anchored helplessly to your wrists
but their hearts were not as weak
as the foreign fist beating in your chest. they collapsed
and only left behind
the impressions of dying constellations
they had scratched beneath your eyelids.
iii. at dusk i watched the night take you in waves, glowing,
and said you were the most beautiful thing
i had ever known.
it was a lie. the want of a thing
is always more beautiful than the thing itself.
these are the quiet things we do not tell--
the secrets touched only in the dark
when hearts are laid open
and everything else forgets to exist.
iv. i whispered that to myself when the last shadow
SuffocationI found a vintage denim jacketSuffocation3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the bottom of my mother's closet,
underneath a black-and-white montage
of shoebox photographs with burned edges.
Like she had been trying to asphyxiate
the memory of my father
but kept coming up for air.
Gun Within The MirrorIt feels as if my reflectionGun Within The Mirror2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Points a gun at its own head,
As my bullet shoots the mirror
And paints the floor with red,
And it feels as if my gun
Just isn't steady in my hand,
Because darling, when I jump off cliffs,
Do you think I always land?
It feels as if the razor blade
Might be my only friend,
And it feels as if the broken glass
Might soon begin to bend,
Because my reflection is distorted, love.
Can't you see that, love, can't you see?
I'm pointing a gun at the mirror,
And the mirror points back at me.
Spines of NylonDistortion came easy when he turned the knob to ten.Spines of Nylon4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"bend me back and watch me
The Quiet Thoughts of Butterfliesshe says "I'm worried if I breatheThe Quiet Thoughts of Butterflies4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
too loud the silence will
I watch her hands press butterfly
wings between the pages.
does she know that
I'm the queen of silence?
my corpse lungs and
graveyard lips; a decomposing
tongue lurking behind white-washed
tombstones. paint me with sunbeams,
I'm still the same.
[death warmed over]
her tropic gaze rakes over
the bone-white snow. "I keep
swallowing the snow-flakes. they
remind me of frozen flowers.
their dead sweetn
a fever spreads to your lipsoh, play me that song you love, the one that falsifies your only breath and sends you spinning through dizzy trees and cold sweats. play the one where the sun despises your constant breathing, where it doesn't rise for days, so you close your eyes, and imagine its mouth on your throat. i'd play it over and over in my head, under my tongue, the notes speaking through every cigarette and falling dead as ashes as the next note rises, appears, ignites, floats to death.a fever spreads to your lips4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you told me on the phone you were so in love you'd walk the world. but you wouldn't tell me whose name breaks your string of dreams, sends beads spinning on the floor, into corners, under the stairs. couldn't you tell me her name her face herherher? is it love or emptiness washing you dry? i've only known you. only memories die with sleep so i stay awake and hope they hold in the holes of my head-- they leave in a sigh with the close of my eyes.
i am the spindled clocks ticking on your jawline, the movement of a guttery thro
holy wateri.holy water4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
today's morning greeted me wetly
(I'm talking about rain, dirty boy)
and I'm starting to think that perhaps it does,
after all, rain for us.
I cannot compare thee to a summer's day
when never does the eye of heaven shine
and it be autumn, but our lips may be as hands
of saints and pilgrims.
our palms have met too many times
for me to tell who hath the sin upon their lips
though you do wrong your hand too much,
and so again I say
it rains for us.