This is Me, BeggingIf I could play guitarThis is Me, Begging3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I’d write you a song.
If I could run that far
Then I’d run all night long.
But I’m no good at that
So you’ll have to settle for this.
What is this?
It's a plea
Please come home
I'm all alone
And nobody understands.
I don't want you to R.I.P.
I want you here with me
But I'm not God
And He hates me
So, for now,
I guess it's R.I.P.
Our Dead-End RomanceIt wasn’t a romantic setting.Our Dead-End Romance3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
We were crouched together in the alleyway behind McGregor’s pub
where smells of substandard alcohol and cigarette smoke stained the air
and the muffled song of drunks could be heard from inside, seeming to leak through the walls.
Only, those weren't things I noticed that night.
Instead, I noticed the smell of his cologne,
a smell I recognised only from chilly days on the beach.
Like sea salt blown through cold wind,
and I noticed the sound of his steadfast breaths:
hot and sharp, but reliable; comforting.
As I buried myself in the radiating folds of his shirt
he whispered that I was his world
and so, one day, he would give me the whole world in return.
I just shook my head
because I didn't want it.
Just him, always him.
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
Paradise.My arms ache from digging throughParadise.3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
rough and ruin, in search of
I saw it in a whispered dream,
there, nothing hurt;
we were unspoken.
With winter came warmth and summer snow,
And nothing died, just ceased to
walk with me
Please (Don't) Hate MeIf I told you a liePlease (Don't) Hate Me3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
But it made you smile
Would it still be a sin?
If I opened the door
But turned you away
Would you still come in?
If I sliced my skin
But it didn't hurt
Would it still be wrong?
If I acted all brave
But couldn't face it
Would I still be strong?
If I tied my noose
Around a tree's open arms
Would it be an embrace?
If I left tonight
And begged you stay
Would you still give chase?
If I committed sin
But hurt nobody
Would I be welcome above?
If I do something you hate
But only for your good
Could it still be true love?
What You WantMaybe you want them to noticeWhat You Want2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Maybe you want them to see
Maybe you want them to care about
How you’re lost and lonely me.
Maybe you want them to ask
Maybe you want them to know
Maybe you want them to care about
How your happiness is a show.
Maybe you want them to quiet
Maybe you want them to listen
Maybe you want them to care about
How your blood does glisten.
Maybe you want them to leave you
Maybe you want them to die
Maybe you want them to care about
How your life’s just a lie.
Carry OnI like sharp things;Carry On2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The way they shine
The way they hurt
The way they leave a red line.
I like to bleed;
The way it's red
They way it hurts
The way it washes out what they said.
I like to live;
The way it's wrong
The way it hurts
The way it tells me that I am strong.
t.they say thatt.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but that's not really true;
we both hate our misery
and i'm learning to
but you know what they say
they'll suck you dry
and only use you
to write about. carve your name
into poems (not into
skin-- that's not "in" right now,
i guess), but
maybe i'm all out of words
are all i want to read about.
To BurnI want to set my skin on fireTo Burn2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
With Death’s icy embrace.
I want to make my head stop
And my broken heart race.
I want to fade into black
Like fog over the sea.
I want to save them the bother
Of worrying about me.
I want to bleed myself white
Until I really am just a shell.
I want to miss out on heaven
Just to escape this cursed hell.
I want to see her face again
So I can tell her my regret.
I want her face to leave me
So that I can maybe forget.
I want my friends to be happy
But I stop that from being so.
I want to lose all control
And let the red blood flow.
I want to leave this place
And abandon all breath.
I want to do something right
And that something is death.
Red ScreamsSmiling at me, shiny silver teethRed Screams3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Begging my wrist
For one chaste
Grinning at me, that evil smirk
Making my heart pound
So sharp so
I know I
And really I
Arm’s too full of blood
From attempts to
Join the stars.
Photo album of
My diary of my
I am still
Classic(al) Move(ment)Fancied whole orchestra. Managed first bass.Classic(al) Move(ment)3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
catch the stars to remember her wishesi.catch the stars to remember her wishes3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she rememberes the little things first.
her favorite color is purple
she likes blueberry pancakes,
and leaves pennies face-up on random street corners.
even with these pieces, it feels like
a huge chunk has been torn away that she could never retrieve
there are scars on her person
she does not remember getting.
her body is a map of memories
she does not know how to read.
they say she used to be calm and collected,
but now she is hot and fiery,
and they don't know her anymore.
but that's okay, because she doesn't know herself.
she misses the sun,
and the bad school coffee and English projects
and her own bed
and the person she was before.
even though she can't remember, she misses.
when they tell her what happened,
car crash. one dead, one survived.
internal bleeding. damage to the brain.
amnesia. amnesia. amnesia.
and she doesn't remember but she flashes between images
like loose strings that she can't help pulling.
a hand to hold. a quick
Falling. Alone?When will the rain stop falling?Falling. Alone?3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When will the reaper stop calling?
Did I do something wrong?
I must have
To suffer for this long.
It's not like I didn't try,
And it's not like you did
But I never got to ask why
I just ran and hid.
'Honesty is the best policy'
That's what they say
But I doubt they know truth at all,
Being who they are today.
If I could, I'd wish it away
But I can't
So I'm alone today;
Meant to die here this way.
catharsis.i.catharsis.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
The devil watched me dreaming,
kissed my wrists
and painted my lips with blood.
I bartered for my place in heaven,
but I was buried too deep
to be heard.
He pushed me
out to sea and I
valiantly tried to drown.
you break it, you buy it.1. someone came up to me the other day, and told meyou break it, you buy it.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that if i didn't start using capital letters in my poems,
she wouldn't read any more of them.
i just told her in a quiet voice that i was tired of screaming
at people who would never listen.
the thing with me is that i always
read too much into things-
people, newspapers, fucks, metaphors.
and usually i fall in love with things that
could never love me back.
2. i destroy the things that mean
the most to me, and i've never gotten the hang
of writing in stanzas.
most days i walk around reciting numbers
and other people's poetry, but usually
i just count the seconds i spend falling apart and
avoiding the things that make me whole because
self-destruction will always be my forte.
3. broken people seem to have a way of finding each other.
like we work under this assumption that we can find
perfect in each other's missing pieces,
even though we all know two wrongs will never make a right
"do you want me to fuck you?" yo
It tastes like love.I could speak of her in riddles,It tastes like love.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in aged, anatomy textbook terminology-
but, I wont.
You see, I cuffed this angel to my bedpost.
I sank my teeth into feathers she wore like a cage
and asked if I was dreaming, because Love,
you're not holding me. If you only knew the you in my head,
every night--tearing with these heavenly fingers
at the cracks in my sanity- you would allow me this!
Her tongue tastes my tears; nails clawing, clawing, clawing-
she takes away my pain,
but she doesn't belong to me either.
"We are but wolves.
Tell me, what does my blood taste like?"
a poem about too many people and too much heart.you were mya poem about too many people and too much heart.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
conclusion- the last paragraph
and the last thing
i got to say.
i loved you and i
took words from
between my eyelashes and i
put them down for
you, i took you apart
a million times
in my mind and always put you
and i drew
you, soft and silhouetted
window, the pane
foggy and i thought of you
in the darkest of
times, because i kept telling myself
that you were the
light (like you
i know that i am just
a girl with
too much heart and
too weak of ribs; but
i was hoping
that you would help the foxes
hunt the hounds, just for
Idylliche always spoke of the romantic stance in a smokerIdyllic3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
whose every gasp was like a suicidal swansong, he
wrapped himself up so tightly in unwarranted wishing, when
they stripped him free, he then stumbled into the sunlight
and burnt [out]
no one laced his pillows with lavender and moonbeams
and all the other things that call dreams out from
hiding; but he still prayed upside-down overdone
every evening for a falling star to find its way
instead, they surrounded him with [a grain of]
salt circles like curses to draw out the weaknesses
temptation had embedded in him, because
nothing beautiful was ever built atop a rotten foundation
(one exception: architecture of shattered resplendence)
and no one ever got anywhere by treating the
thorns in their side as a reminder to remain
more prominent than the injuries they would inflict.
he's broken (he does not reflect) he wanes and worries
as his heart choruses "not enough," ever-growing
as his fears acclimate and his pulse sings- some
GhostThe dream shatters around meGhost3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Like a broken mirror.
Looking at the wreckage,
My reflection unrecognizable.
A broken image.
A broken heart.
I'm cut by the shards
As I try to piece it back together.
My blood sprinkles the surface
Like a red rain.
The mirror is whole again.
What's left of the dream.
I look at my reflection,
And tears finally begin to fall.
Between You and Me.I never believed you,Between You and Me.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I only wanted to.
Lying back to back
I was counting your breaths
to make sure your lack of
didn't leave you
Like a ghost
the fading memories of your touch
what I was trying to forget.
Oh, why did I give it up to you?
I know it's my fault.
My expectations were greater than
what you were willing to offer,
and I got scared.
I tried shutting you out,
to gather myself together
behind a shield of apathy,
but only ended up in
Your kiss never tasted as
as the last time
I made love to you...
Mirror MirrorMirror mirror on the wallMirror Mirror3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You see me,
My every rise and fall.
Is it you who knows me best..
Seen beyond the mask
When i'm down and depressed
Seen me the downright broken mess?
I look at you
you stare no slack
Behind my back
My knowledge of you ends
When I go my own way
But you watch me come and go
day after day..
memories don't just fadeMy eyes are red and bloodshot, with low-lying eyelids.memories don't just fade3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I widen them; it stings a little.
So I squeeze them shut, and open them again
- very slowly.
I've been sobbing on my pillow; it's smudged with my mascara.
Why didn't I take my makeup off before I went to bed?
What was the point of that question?
I sigh, I know exactly why there's no room in my mind
for thoughts about skincare.
I turn back to the mirror on my bedside, and trail my gaze down from my pathetic eyes
toward a purple gash running diagonally from my cupids bow
to the left side of my cheek.
My lip is split, so it hurts to talk now.
"If I slice your mouth sweetie, you'll remember that you mustn't talk." That's what was said.
My body jolts, I turn the mirror away. I don't want to look at my face anymore.
I shut my eyes - gingerly, to save myself pain -
and I tried my very best
to go to sleep.
Distant Memories Of A Love Done Gone .They say it's difficult to love someoneDistant Memories Of A Love Done Gone .3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When you can't even love yourself.
But I loved you nonetheless,
The problem was I didn't know when to stop.
You kept sending me mixed signs
Making me dizzy until I
Much less right
When our world started crumbling down and
T e a r i n g at the seams
It was so easy for you to let it fall apart.
But I, knowing no other kind of love,
desperately clung to the remaining bits,
Trying to put them back together.
Yet the pieces changed too much, too quickly,
They kept growing and
growing a p a r t,
until your world was only yours
and mine a hollow echo of its past.
Looking back now, it seems like it
All happened in a different life,
With some other you, some other me,
And the lips kissing my own were just a dream.