when writers cryAwake on strong, black coffee drinks
Words on paper, liquid ink
Dreams of pen tips, future lies
Tragic stories, quotes of the wise
Nights have carved their dark, deep valleys
In the hollows of my eyes
For you see, my friend, when writers cry
There are no tears, their cheeks are dry
But ink dipped fingers, worn out wrists
Chewed up nails and bloody fists
You see, it's strange when writers cry
Their hearts are true, their words don’t lie
They mourn in silence for a few days
Of paper cuts and tear-less haze
Of coffee mugs and smoky paper
Liquid spills, and water vapor
Sorry dreams and wasted hours
Putrid smells and dying flowers
(Torn to pieces from inside
Tears are hidden by our pride)
Hear me howl.Tell me again, Father,Hear me howl.10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I’m the perfect daughter-
when all I want to be
is the crescent moons
resting like strong soldiers
in the grooves of my palms.
I am but
quaking with frostbite,
numbed with rage.
A wolf's jaw:
locked, teeth tearing
into the chilled flesh
of your neck.
He/She/Her/HimI'd write a love songHe/She/Her/Him8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
But I've never really been in love,
Apart from with that girl and that guy
On that day I nearly touched the sky.
I like my best friend.
And it hurts like hell,
Yeah, it hurts like hell
Knowing I can't ever tell
Cos I'm me
And he's a she.
Things I'll Never SayThere are certain things I’ll never say,Things I'll Never Say9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Like how I thought about killing myself today
Just to keep my own scary thoughts away.
Like how I stay awake way too late
To be sure I don’t awake in a bloody state.
Like how I soaked white into red last night
And turned myself into a ghastly sight.
Like how it hurts too much to breathe
When I make my own skin seethe.
Like how I Google things I shouldn’t
When I want to do things I couldn’t.
Like how I’m scared of being alone
Yet I’m only happy when I’m on my own.
Like how I know I’ll wind up killing myself
And turn into just a dusty photo on a dusty shelf.
Like how I make myself bleed every day
Even though I know I can’t go on this way.
Like how I maybe want someone to see
And for them to somehow help me.
But nobody will ever help me,
Because those are all the things I’ll never say.
LifelineI hate how I look;Lifeline9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
The bags beneath my eyes.
I hate who I am;
The endless torrent of lies.
Sometimes I do things I know I shouldn't
And I don't do things I know I should,
Only that I could and would,
Because that's how people work.
Everyone has motives
And nobody is selfless
In this world that doesn't want
Everyone's gonna die
And I'm not gonna lie;
Sometimes that thought is the only thing
That gets me through the day.
I miss my old razor blade;
Scissors don't go deep enough
This red isn't my favorite shade;
I like it purer,
Then I could be surer
That I'm a threat to myself.
I'm trying to cut down,
As apposed to cutting everything else,
But I doubt I'll ever stop
Because every slash,
Every bloody drop,
The whole crimson rash,
I'm still alive
And I am
Life ItselfThe only time I smiled todayLife Itself9 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Was when I thought of dying
And how good I am at lying
Each and every single day.
I've got a box of painkillers
They sleep right by my bed
For when all I see is red,
They'll numb it into darkest white.
I've tried talking to people,
But I can't word what I want to say
And maybe I like living this way,
Knowing that I'll die soon.
I know I'm self-destructive
My crosshatch skin screams it
But inside there's a little bit
That still aches to be saved.
I've tried before and I'll try again
To put my worthlessness away
But fate forced me to stay;
Death's a bitch like that.
Life makes me want to die
Yet it won't let me leave
Or grant me a reprieve
From that which it's made me hate;
I once knew a girl with peculiar eyesthere once was a girlI once knew a girl with peculiar eyes6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
who had peculiar eyes
they weren't bright, or playful
they were empty inside
they'd stare at you, emotionless
they were so blunt and so cold
it was very odd for a seven year old
she'd walk 'round with an untied shoe
with her teddy bear clenched in her elbow
and she'd waddle around the great big yard
just waiting, but for what? Who?
you'd always see her looking out the window at night
staring up at the twinkling little sky lights
and you'd get just a glimpse, a fraction of a second
where you'd see the light in her eyes; what should have been right
and as she got a little older, she'd glare up at you
then sometimes she'd yell, saying the compliments weren't true
Sun Child,I am freezingSun Child,10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
& I am hungry
for fever’s lips-
her inky fingers
a dry stomach.
My body is an ocean,
my limbs, but oars.
My tongue & teeth,
a life raft
keeping this madness
from sinking into blue.
Offering up 102 degrees
You would think
I had something to say.
When I Was 13I am just a little boy in a grown man’s shellWhen I Was 139 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Who finds himself lost in a daydream
That my mind manifested one Monday morning
On the cusp of being aged thirteen
Sitting on a plastic chair in a stale classroom
Looking out of the rain lashed window
Thoughts turn to the length of my imagination
And indeed what distance it could go
I was snapped back to reality as always
With my tank topped teacher's booming cry
This was not the first, nor would it be the last time
I would find myself preoccupied
Classmates around me may live their life linear
Like most people who have gone before
But I can’t see the point of a mind’s vast landscape
If I am not going to explore
I am just a little boy in a grown man’s shell
Who’s become lost in a lonely life
For me reality had not been the ruler
But it most certainly had been rife
Sitting on a leather chair in a stale office
Looking out of the sun starved window
My imagination was plotting it's escape
Leaving no clues to where
Cross My WristsCross my wrists and hope to die,Cross My Wrists9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I will only ever lie
When you ask me if I’m fine
Or if I like this life of mine.
If I had a gun,
I’d put it to my head
And turn bouncy blonde,
Into ruby red.
You want me to stop cutting;
I’ll stop when I’m dead.
The last time I’ll cut
Will be the last thing I see
When I finally put an end to me.
Dying sounds good right now,
Just fading into black
And never coming back
To the agony living brings.
Perhaps you’ll find me hanging,
Or after OD’ing;
Someday soon you’ll find me,
It’s too late now,
I’m too far gone.
Now I’m just a ghost
Of who could’ve been someone.