let go, little bird--hope is the tired little bird at the bottom of your heart, the one whose tiny wings are broken and bleeding, the one that won't stop flapping uselessly at the sky, like it's going to take off, take off dammit, even when it's fading by the second and dying in a heap of feathers, and it breaks your heart to see the optimistic flame still sparkling in such innocent eyes.let go, little bird--5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i'm writing this to tell you that i don't know what i need. i'm writing this because i can't pull any fancy metaphors from the back of my throat to save my pride this time. i'm writing this to see the look on your face when you wake up and wonder why i keep running away.
hope is the thing with feathers, my broken baby bird. hope is the trust in those newborn eyes that makes you burst out sobbing although you never know why. it's the razor-sharp edge between happiness and pain, the line you try to fly on crippled wings, my little bird, just to save someone stronger from having to walk it for themselves.
shoot a blackbirdshoot a blackbirdshoot a blackbird5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and take down the stars
crush them pearls
and mix them with your teeth
rotting and slowly tick tocking
your way to a dream you wish
you could dream
wish your way to a wish
that could have happened
but not in our lifetime.
not when you're not sure whether
you're dreaming or not
and i don't know whether i'm
living or not
he asked me if he could make things
and i tried to say 'maybe'
but i choked
i handed him what i had left
and told him to piece it together
i can only trust him
but if he breaks it
i'll be just as fine as i was
i left my heart in haiti.and so iti left my heart in haiti.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
[like everything else.]
was torn down,
shattered on the
i bought seven
cans of hope, and bet
them all on horse number
[like everything i've ever put my hope in.]
decided to fail me
i broke out of
your loosely colored wall
treason, so i
[i was never good at taking orders.]
and i swore nothing
could stop me
try to tear
me down, but we
both know i'm
[other then obvious.]
liar, and that any
sense of truth i
left at baggage
his caged birds don't singit was like when we were fivehis caged birds don't sing6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and unable to drown the fish
in your mothers aquarium.
we later realized that we could drown them.
we could do so by taking them out of water
and we did.
it was like when we were ten
and i would find you in the backyard
of your moss-covered house,
sitting on a lawn chair with bare feet
and rolled up jeans.
you would sit there all day,
filling plain paper with pictures and words
that no one would ever understand.
it was like when we were fifteen
and you would spend your time standing
as close to the cliff as you could without falling
but i think you were secretly hoping
that someday youd slip.
it was like today
when you were finally the first to look away.
what do you want most? you once asked.
back then i wanted a lot of things.
i wanted to believe that sex was only science,
like you did.
i wanted to live in a world where nameless,
faceless people could pretend
they were something more than no
how it goesthis is how it goes; you meet a boy and you think he's cute and you hope that maybe someday you will kiss the nape of his neck. the ache grows inside of you like a tumour, you feel it pulsing every single day and there is a piece inside of you that hopes he likes you back.how it goes4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
then you start to doubt it, you start to think you're ugly and your chubby and your clothes aren't pretty, but then you realize if you want him to like you, you have to like you as well. so you start to like yourself more, you're happier and you think he likes you back, which makes everything so much better.
one day he walks you to the bus and you wonder how time managed to put you here, and you see his lips moving but all you hear is the sound of your heart hammering. you agree to go on a date with him, and you try hard not to maul him when you hug him goodbye. you sit on the bus smiling and miss your stop, but it's alright, because it's a breathtaking day.
things are beautiful for a long time, trees look like they
we used to make butterfly handsYou told me that when I was older I would understandwe used to make butterfly hands2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and I looked up and saw the sky in paper planes and periwinkle blue.
I reached out and drew a line for you;
traced it all over the globe and back to your wise heart
so that when I was older, my head full of understanding,
I’d be able to navigate back to my place there
and touchdown, settle down with you.
You said that our worlds were too distant,
you with your job and bills to pay and me with my honey-sweet dreams.
I nodded and pulled back my flyaway hair
thinking that if we’re alive together, against all the odds and centuries alive together,
that’s close enough for me.
I kissed you and you told me I was great. Carousel great. Sandy-toes great. Smiles on a Saturday, belly-laughs great.
You snapped the string and flew away.
I’m older and I do understand
that dotted lines get tangled or just fall away completely and
you were right when you said that things aren't quite as pretty
as they are in my party-h
Love is a VampireBreaking my nailsLove is a Vampire5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
against your skin,
I need you to bleed
so you will be a part
I am always
wailing inside this
cage, watching my
heart beat in your
And I want to
feed upon you
so your soul will always
But you leave me
in the darkness
on the floor among
and broken bones.
Why don't you pick
me up again?
Why must I watch you
always walk out the door?
I just want
to reach inside of you,
keep you here in my
Tired of wearing these
chains, you think you can
keep me at a safe distance.
I see it now and
wonder who is left
holding the wooden
As I plunge it into my heart,
watching as you die
with each slowing beat.
You thought you could
walk away but there
is no forever without me.
You took my heart out
so I stole yours in the night,
now it drains your life
away with my last
breath upon your lips.
i want to be a real poet.i want you to know thati want to be a real poet.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you sound like the color yellow.
like sleeping hands or a
violin solo in a symphony
or cold bed sheets in the summer.
i want you to know that
i would remain for eternity if
it meant you would be there,
by my side. i could be your lover -
today, and every day.
i want you to know that
my every molecule screams out
to you. my spine is fractured and
my lungs are collapsing under the
pressure and i'm not sure
how much longer i can take this
but i guess a few more hours
the oracle card in my pocketthe man i love is anthe oracle card in my pocket5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
old soul with a stunning mouth and
he gathers up pieces of me into
his hands and carries me to bed.
of abandoned tea partiesi:of abandoned tea parties6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
we are fresh mown grass and the first stars to come out and
fireworks in the rain and gently washed jackets. we are
piano melodies drifting from the house-next-door and
we are government conspiracies and laughing at fireflies and
black-blue-and-purple on pale skin. we are trying not to fall off the edge
even as we promise others that we'll be at the bottom to catch them.
we are embers lying in the dewy grass and the lone cricket in the background
and leftover play dough sticking to your fingers.
we are notes to children we are not going to have and letters to your mother
that aren';t going to be read and flames burning patterns into our fingertips.
we are abandoned tea parties with the dolls sitting in the chairs at nightfall
and unanswered text messages and faint whispers of iloveyou
from the room across the hall. we are staying up late to finish poems no one
cares about and passages from ancient books that no one opens and
Glass Bottomed BirdsHe says,Glass Bottomed Birds3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"I'm thinking about realist and
of the diplomatic correspondence
of the Amarna age",
and I want to say something that sounds
like the way the stars make us weep
with the realisation
there are messages in the heavens
that we will never hear;
or how thoughts, in a poem become
glass bottomed birds;
or how the eyes lead to the soul
and back again.
I'm thinking about monkeys.
Tiny, tiny little monkeys,
and things that are
rather shiny, like Firefly--
and the way it made me laugh
when I realised how unconsciously
I adopted their phrase;
how unconsciously I added that
to my repertoire for performance
in this every day life
half a world away.
And I'm thinking about brine shrimp;
the sea monkeys that are swimming,
riding each other-
and did my brother explain
that one's lazy, or
did he tell her the birds are
a little too friendly with the bees
And also, I'm thinking about you
my introduction left holesI crave the feel of your scent between my fingertips and the angle at which lust lingers on your lips. I make stars clash in my eyes because darling innocence is a virtue but not as fun as sin. Rip the sun from its chains in the sky. We already shine enough for the moon anyway.my introduction left holes4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Gosh, I'm sorry." Your weight against my arm singed like you were still there. I just needed your touch again. I guess all contact leaves its mark. I know I left mine on you.
"Are you okay?" My silence was disturbing you. I have a gift for that. I can unsettle someone until their core shatters, and they're picking at their skin on the ground like starving pigeons. Your smile illuminated my hunger for your affection, and you never knew. You initiated the game with a brush of your shoulder and baby I never lose.
My fragile limbs scale your calloused skin. I was never good with introductions. They slide down my throat and echo in the hollows of my lungs. Imcarterit'snicetomeetyouwowyoureyesaresoblue con
to the boy with ghost handsdear boy with the ghost hands.to the boy with ghost hands5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you are in my bones, sir.
waiting beneath my pale skin
inside the charcoal grey
leaving me to feel you
send morse code vibrations
throughout my entire body
leaving me speechless
my bones are asphalt grey
but with a hopeful
but with you here
it never stops raining
and i now know
what drowning feels like
but you still wont leave.
even with these raging waters.
you float and carry on
though to another part of me.
just re locating.
please, the rains getting
to heavy and my lungs are collapsing
and i cannot breathe.
from the girl who cannot let you go anyway.
you lied the night you kissed me.there is a thick exhaustion in the pit of my stomach, spreading to my shouldersyou lied the night you kissed me.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
till they hang and to my knees until they buckle. and I will sleep for days on end,
and when I wake up I didn't really.
I hate you dear, I hate you so.
because there is so much to do, I could travel to the other side of the country and
paint a portrait of a stranger and I could sit on top of someone's roof and look at the
stars with a boy I don't want to know and I could fall asleep in his bed and listen to
him playing guitar without clothes and he'd take me out for diner and anywhere I'd
want to go and we'd have sex in his car and on the trampoline in my back yard and
we'd eat at my grandparents with Christmas and it would never be enough because
he's everything you weren't.
I think I lost myself, I think I fell out that time you ran away holding onto me and my
skin tore. I looked for her in that empty hole in your chest cavity, but all I found was
lost so long ago, and you wouldn't show me where it went b
red marks the spotthere is sunburn on my back.red marks the spot5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i never realized it was there the first day.
(ignorance is bliss when your head is filled with cotton candied lies.)
days go by as i
begin to burn.
blood rises to
skin falls away
and i realize i'm no longer (your)
the last piece i ever write about you.it's ironic, y'know? i started going to therapy in april because of you. i thought you were going to leave me. no. not even that. i thought you were going to abandon me. i thought you were going to just pack up your shit in the middle of the night and just walk out that door while i was still sleeping.the last piece i ever write about you.3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
so i stopped sleeping. but that wasn't healthy.
so i started sleeping on the couch with my head in your lap. you couldn't leave if i was holding you. right? but instead you would just wake me up in the middle of the night and usher me back into my bedroom.
so i started sleeping with my door wide open. i thought i'd be able to hear you packing up your shit. i thought i'd be able to hear you leaving. i thought i'd be able to stop you.
and now, it's february, and i'm staying over at his house, wrapped up in his arms, pressed against his chest, laughing and kissing and coyote fingers trotting down skin, and i'm not losing my breath over when things don't go my way anymore, i'm not crying any
his hands are not like yoursii.his hands are not like yours3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i cannot remember
what i should not forget
you are nothing, now,
peeling back layers
of bone. your hands--
and steel-edged gilding--
pry me apart
& i break
i will be a birdit is the day before christmas and she's waking up her car. the windows are frosted over and the car seat is freezing beneath her. she sits up and opens the door. outside it is windy and she feels goodebumps run up her spine. her fingernails are digging into the cold skin on her bare legs and she's on the verge of tears. she doesn't cry though. she never, ever cries.i will be a bird6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
it is three days after chrismas and she's laying in her back yard on patches of dead grass, shaking. she's shrouded in coats and blankets but its raining and once the water seeps through the cotton it clings to her skin. she's drinking champage mixed with rain water from a paper cup and she's imagining that this is how she'd like to die. cold and lonely, waiting for the morning sun.
its the last night before the new year and she's not watching television. she's sitting in front of it though, and letting the noise wash over her. it's almost like white noise. she's somewhere else though, she's imagining that her family a
You let men lay on youDon't give me that bullshit aboutYou let men lay on you7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
being a goddess, you let men lay on you.
your teeth are falling out, one by one. don't swallow the fluoride.
don't swallow the anesthetics. you gave him both of your kidneys.
you are dying with bruises on your shoulders and you are dying
without a spine and you are dying.
he buried your mouth in the gutter, he threw your bowels
in the streets and the dogs fought over them. you told me
you just wanted to die with a little dignity. This is not honor;
a pitbull chewing on your large intestine.
The dogs are howling while you let men lay on you.
there is a song for thisthere is a poem on the skin of scratched graffiti.there is a song for this5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it is called "a collection of tuesdays" or
"what are you willing to remember?"
and i don't know if i could ever forget
the area of her hips or
the way she always spells
the word tomorrow wrong and
i wonder if it's on purpose.
there is a name for this.
it is called "bicycles on the sidewalk
without wheels" or
"the song of collapsing telephones".
who would you even call, and
is there anything anyone fears more than
a diseased bird?
there is a will for this.
it is called
"boy digging through garbage at
three in the morning" or
"metal stop sign rusting behind
the faceless naysayers of
torn chain-link fences".
i see it gathering the night
and its edges say alone,
because who but the alone
would stop to watch the
errors in manufacturing,
the empty cathedrals beneath cities?
there is a song for this
but i don't remember what it was
going to be called,
and the stoplights are bleeding.
when somebody says your name for the last timeonewhen somebody says your name for the last time3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
one of the first things she learns is that ghosts cannot cry.
this does not stop her from trying.
there's a house.
not a home. barely a building. just beyond the part of town parents don't let their kids near after dark.
it's empty. it's been empty for as long as anyone can remember.
in the upstairs bedroom, there's a queen-sized bed and a chest of drawers and a chandelier. they are covered in dust and cobwebs. they are rotting. they are bug-infested and falling to pieces.
in the upstairs bedroom, there's a girl.
she wears a long, white dress, and a shroud of grief, and a bullet wound in her chest.
she is rotting. she is sorrow-infested and falling to pieces.
in the right light, you can see straight through her.
one of the first things she learns is that even if she could cry, it wouldn't make much difference.
no one can hear her.
no one can see her.
no one even knows that she's there.
he runs away, and she isn't quick enough to follow him. she doesn't know if she can haunt
140 CharactersMy life in blurbs. Follow, retweet.140 Characters5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The Murmurs Left BehindLook away,The Murmurs Left Behind7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Because you never know the power something has over you
Until its long gone and you cant even remember their face
Not soon after the once treasured string that bound us together
Is snipped by our own unknowing hands.
Because I couldnt stand you seeing this face
Once so warm and full of your affections
Now rotted by time, and the loss of you
-The only thing that ever made Hades into hell.-
Because no matter how delicately you play such music
There is no strength in your will,
And that will surely be the death of me
And once was already too much for either of us to bear.
Because as kind and well meaning as you were
You were still just a lyre in the end
Because not listening to the rules, was the line
That youll pray you never crossed.
Because now that weve swayed the beast
The most painful part of losing
Would be the knowing it was so simple
To just do it the way we were supposed to.