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short-term memory.and you'll never forget:short-term memory.6 months ago in Emotional More Like This
When you realized that everybody dies alone.
When you didn't take your eyeliner off one night, so in the morning
your eyes would look as hollow as you felt.
When you spent a year blacking out the sad endings in your books.
(When you wished that life could also work like that.)
When you learnt that "We need a break" means "I am going to break your heart."
When you fell in love with the stars, and the way he says "us."
When he told you, "More than just a long time."
The first time you hung up to the sound of your father laughing.
When you walked home from a party in January, and couldn't remember
if you were
queen of nothing.what I've learned:queen of nothing.7 months ago in Emotional More Like This
I still remember singing in my room when I was six, and having my mother come down the hall and slam the door so hard that the windows shook.
Her nails hurt when she scraped the tears off my face. "It doesn't matter what you want," she'd always tell me.
Like, when that drunk driver swerved and hit her car – I didn't want her to leave me, and it didn't matter.
Once on vacation I bought a pair of fuzzy leather heels for two hundred dollars, and when I wore them to dinner, I found out that
1. "Suede" is a fancy word for "fuzzy leather."
And 2. Good things don't last: That night my cousin told me that she thought 135
red leaves and Robert Frost.When I was young, my virginity was sacred. Entire religions pray over it and my father bought a gun so long as it meant protecting it.red leaves and Robert Frost.7 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
We throw away half of our refrigerator each week – meanwhile, 24,000 people die of starvation every day.
Hardest part is, sometimes wasting things can't be helped.
At the bus stop, before I could drive, boys would ask for my phone number while I tugged up the neck of my shirt. Asked me how old I was while I crossed my legs under my skirt.
I told them I had a boyfriend even when it wasn't true, because they'll always respect another man more than my disinterest.
Hearing "I love you" for the first time
eight things about growing upeighteight things about growing up9 months ago in Emotional More Like This
I told my brother I was going to be a fairy when I grew up. Or a bird, or sprite – something with wings so I could touch the clouds.
I learned that fairies weren't real when I was six, after I tried to jump off a parking structure to see if I could fly.
That day I also broke my leg in three places and saw an angel's face in the clouds. (And don't tell anybody, but sometimes I spend all day looking for him.)
seven
My neighbors back in Denver had a son who was a schizophrenic. After he went off his meds for the third time, he painted the windows red and told his wife she had to abort their baby because it wasn't human.
A year l
Insert creative title here.sometimes I hate the ideaInsert creative title here.7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
of talking
I rather eat the autumn
skies crushing cold air between my molars
and hiding shaky hands
between pages of dictionaries
and clickclickclicking sounds of typewriters
you asked me why I wrote poems
on the soles of my shoes
and I told you
it was because I wanted to
imprint myself on the earth
then I can create beauty
even if I am not
admittance is defeatthey called you beautifuladmittance is defeat6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
with porcelain eyes about to crack
and cigarette skin crumbling
away, a knotted spine and
jagged smile:
you were never gracious.
you're slipping underneath, this
virulent smog masks a paper sky that
never allowed a dream and
you're afraid because it's soaking in
your pores again, unattainable and unoriginal;
the meaning of life never meant enough-
you were never hopeful.
there's a getaway map on the underside
of your pillow, and a lifetime of secrets
on the underside of your bones
you're a walking travesty:
your chest ticks, dull
your wrist beats, dying
time is keeping you but
you were never pa
Mabonthere are dead leavesMabon7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
sprouting from her amber spine,
reaching with child-fingers
to devour the sun.
her skin is freezing,
seeping winter through
november pores.
seeking warmth,
the whiskey tongues
of godless boys
wish to decipher
the atlas of her thighs.
counting the sleepy fireflies
alight in her lungs- there is
wanderlust churning & warming
her frostbitten heartstrings.
swinging pendulum hips,
"I am the tease of autumn flames.
I breathe in mint sunsets,
& gasoline dreams."
Collection of poetic nothings.We were opal Tuesdays,Collection of poetic nothings.5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
mosaic butterflies
tattooed into the
rose garden curve
of my vertebrae,
gliding me through this wild youth.
But, like Icarus—
I was a sky conqueror
& these silk wings
touched the sun.
-
My inhalations are heavy,
like the earth he bruises
beneath his fingertips
as I chase silence.
"You've got a tongue
made for words." He says
against the arrogant thorns
of my briar spine.
"Learn to love yourself."
-
How do I say I love you
without saying I love you?
"I want to replace my heart with you."
-
You are spider silk woven
into my harvest moon
heartstrings, spider
limbs traveling this road map
of s
respiration.i am shipwrecked fever;respiration.5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
kerosene sleep,
& she is denied oxygen.
i taste sirens on the shore
of her collarbones,
& salt-licked sea limbs.
but, it's the natural disaster
wrapped around her coral spine
that really has my lungs
s
p
i
n
n
i
n
g.
BloodI've got a filthy mouth,Blood6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
& a house of stars
thriving in my throat.
21 years
silent
& I still have yet to tame
this grounded constellation
I call my temple. -Slithering
tongue hissing too many
"fuck you's" against my teeth.
I fear I will write myself hollow-
or until my bones are corroded away
& I am nothing-
an insignificant nebula
orbiting the wrong atmosphere.
But, my veins bleed sweet ichor,
& words are only words, Mother.
WaldeinsamkeitA murder of ravensWaldeinsamkeit8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
spits black
on a vermillion coloured day,
as a spine of leaves
crumbles under the pressure
of ghostly weight;
Its pieces of autumn,
borne by a whirling breath,
brush a lonely thought:
This winter will be cold.
april 18th, 2012.therapy:april 18th, 2012.2 months ago in Emotional More Like This
"I'm not an artist. I'm just a kid with a keyboard."
“And, y'know, I’m probably not really sick.”
“I read a lot of books. I probably just act like this because I saw it somewhere on the Internet.”
“I just want to be more like my dad.”
“I’m really just a pathological crybaby who wants attention,” I tell you.
You say, “I think there are better ways to get attention than fake a mental disorder.”
“Maybe I’m doing it for fun.”
Charlie,
The problem isn’t that I need to see a therapist.
The problem is that I need to see a therapist because
It Came From The DarkIt Came From The Dark:It Came From The Dark5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Amongst the ashes, swirling from the darkness of the pit,
Emerged a hand, dragging a battered body across the rocks.
Blood leaked from the wounds so callously self-inflicted,
And teeth ground with a focused determination and seething anger.
It cared not for the warm rubies - staining the jagged rocks,
It cared not for the sensation of pain...
All that it remembered was a dream, An obsession -
One that drove it ever higher; ignoring all else!
Eventually it emerged from this shadowy hole, this dreary depth,
And in that moment, it learned of the truth.
For this creature, denied sunlight and warmth -
was me...
A Book and TeaI'm used to not meaning much to anyone.A Book and Tea7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm used to being alone -
And really, I can't complain.
My solitary lifestyle suits my personality,
Observing, watching the world pass by,
Curled around my book and cup of tea -
Maybe a little judgmental,
Maybe a little sad.
But you know, it gets lonely.
I'm my own best friend, it's true-
But sometimes I want to call someone
And watch a movie, or just sit around
And do nothing in particular-
Just sharing air and experiences.
Then again, who am I kidding.
I'm not good at the friend thing.
So I shall continue with my book
And my cup of tea with tinges of judgement
And sadness,
Watching the rain drippi
hushi'm done wishinghush1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
on shooting stars, and
i want to be done with you:
i'll let dust settle
on my telescope,
let dust settle in
my throat, my lungs.
twist your fingers through
my vocal cords,
press your palm to
my lips and tell me, hush
don't wish on things
falling too fast
to hear you
--
maybe i'll wish
on seashells
instead:
they are quiet houses
for muted ghosts, though
more alive than you
have ever been.
i'll let you
pull me under,
paint my eyes
with salt, blind me
so you can murmur, shh
even dead things
can be beautiful
Her eyes scream fill in the _____.They saidHer eyes scream fill in the _____.6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
she has starving
little poet fingers,
& lungs-
filled with
the heroic hearts
of nameless protagonists.
But, she cries
tears of Saturn
on too-little-sleep nights,
& coffee ringed mornings.
They call her vanilla.
Innocence,
much too ripe to fall
with freckles on her
wander(lust)
shoulder-blades
singing connect-the-dot
blues.
Love Letters On the TrainDear Stranger,Love Letters On the Train3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm leaving this post-it tucked in the side of the train-seat. If you're reading this, you've seen it. I've seen you sit here every few Monday mornings, sometimes tapping a bent, unlit cigarette against your thigh, sipping from your tea (who brings a tea cup onto a train anyway?); sometimes staring at the rain outside, or reading your well-worn, beaten copy of Jane Eyre (I hate that you fold the corners down - it's bibliophilic abuse. I wish the book would papercut you to defend itself a little, but I digress).
You seemed so sad this Monday morning past. Please smile again. I love it when your eyes catch the light of something
Scorpion"Show me your bones."Scorpion6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the atlas of her thighs quaked
as she misplaced her skin
in the backseat of his car.
"I'm a scorpion, you know-"
a messy promise
folded napkin-neat.
"Prove it."
& she smirked,
sure of her limbs,
her scars, & her teeth.
"I dare you to stake claim to this clavicle."
GravityAutumn wanted to learnGravity6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
how to
fall.
So, the galaxy of dead trees
coiling in your lungs
devoured her spine.
Your gifts,
a lifeline wrapped around
her neck like a noose;
an orange and red
assisted suicide.
& you said "God bless your
heart." like some divine
higher power could forgive
her for loving you.
astrological.i. On some nights,astrological.5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
street lights guide
this lonely heart
to her lonely bed.
ii. In this universe of twilight skin
& mismatched bones,
I wonder just how many poems sleep
beneath the inkwell of her eyes.
iii. My body is a house of stars,
and her palms are black holes
sucking ( me ) into their vortex of
nothing.
iv. She says, "Please—my moon,
please—give these bones a reason
to stay."
& I am whispering lovelies
into the sanctuary of her heartbeats.
v. "Goddess temple,
sunset eyes, &
my windowpane love-
Let us eat the stars
t
Androphobiai was stitched lips and a flightless raven heart-Androphobia8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
all sex and a contorting spine;
his own lips engraving 'kiss me's' on empty stars.
& between you and me: i feared his teeth,
& tongue, & honest organs-
with skin that begged, 'please, don't touch me.'
don't touch me.
don't fucking touch me.
i am not soft.
there is a war raging in my lungs,
screaming through the uncharted galaxies
of my wanderlust heartstrings.
i am not soft.
i am lust, & war, & envy—
i am sin,
crooked, misshapen,
& the kind of prosetry yet to be proofrea
Crayon SoulmatesDear Stars,Crayon Soulmates6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I have a bone to pick with you. You see, when I was six, I called myself the nowhere girl... and I coloured myself a soulmate. I made him on crumpled sheets, with broken pieces of crayon, on a playground that was too busy wondering whether growing up entailed stealing your mother's cigarettes and your father's dirty magazines (I suppose I was already wise enough to know that growing up meant choosing one of the many ways of breaking yourself in two.)
I hope you remember him, stars...he was important to me (My mother threw that drawing away on my seventh birthday and told me that girls are not supposed to have such dreams.).
He
summergirlNow read aloud over here. Do give it a listen, won't you?summergirl5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
i. summergirl,
you are crowthroated and tumbling
through the aspen grove
hair on fire with sunrise, lungs
full of sky.
eyelashes like wildflowers
and every morning brings
a new spray of freckles
and a sharper curve to your collarbones.
the cornfields hold no shadows
for your lighthouse eyes
and there are no endings in that
surefooted smile.
ii. you have grown
so fast.
autumn finds you with broken ankles
leaning on an oak branch
and watching the skies.
crow to sparrow--you are quiet.
summergirl, there is peace in silence,
perched treetop,
fallen antlers in your hands.
you will come to mourn your deer.
keep them close.
iii. by winter you have paled,
and like the streams
your eyes have frosted over.
you feel the chill--
there is no need for sight.
summergirl, th
Reminds Me Of You"Reminds Me Of You"Reminds Me Of You6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
A beautiful sunset
Over a moonlit city
Let us not forget
You are more than pretty
Holding each other
Mistletoe above
We depend on one another
The magic of love
Carnival rides
Below starry night skies
Light up your eyes
The best looking prize
A first-place medal
Watching pandas on ice
To me there are several
Ways you are nice
Healthy sunflowers
A box full of kittens
This is the power
Of love that has smitten
Talking to old friends
Smores over heat
You, my dear, transcend
And no one competes
Warm, soapy hands
Writing haikus
Written in sand
Are the words "I love you"
Frolicking in snow
Cuddles b
Sta.sh
