you're the reason for my fraying edgesA piece of me snaggedyou're the reason for my fraying edges1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
on your fingertips, now
I'm spending the rest
of my life unraveling
the lace curtains drowned in the rain.you told me i wasn't allowedthe lace curtains drowned in the rain.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
to write poems about you anymore.
but it's like when my doctor tells my hands
not to shake;
i can't control it.
its 8 pm, and i'm just trying to forget."hey, your shoe's untied"its 8 pm, and i'm just trying to forget.9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
shouldn't be romantic, and it shouldn't make my heart flutter
as i lie here in my bed and imagine that the lines in my ceiling
are the perfect blue veins
coursing beneath the flawless ivory flesh of your careful hands,
that never shake like mine.
but those four simple words you said one day across the halls,
before we ever really met,
were the nicest thing you ever told me,
because it showed how much you cared,
but i guess that was back then.
"i love you"
should be romantic, and it shouldn't make my heart shatter
when i look at the polaroids taped to my wall,
and think about how much brighter your eyes always seemed at night
when we danced beside the waves.
but you spoke those words as you stood by the door
with a question mark hovering in the air;
the air that choked me when you walked away.
"i'm sorry" still lives deep within my walls,
and reverberates every time i scream your name.
meadows.you only ever picked dead flowersmeadows.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
because you wanted to leave the living ones
for others to admire...
i guess that's why you chose me
over everyone else.
there's mildew on the grass.i count my ribs as i count the pills,there's mildew on the grass.9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
one bone per bottle.
i counted your phone calls as i counted the stars
in a cloudy morning sky.
i was dying, and you were too scared to care.
wilt.my brother bought my girlfriend roseswilt.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
one day in june.
i can’t say that i blame her for smiling,
i’m sure she was sick of daisies--
i always put daisies everywhere
and wrote poems on the petals.
i was too romantic,
too feeble and weak.
my stone skin only kept her cold
and girls like her desire warmth.
sometimes i still buy her daisies,
even though i just let them slowly die atop my dresser.
i still buy them for her,
even though it doesn't matter.
i choked on dandelion dust clotted to my wrists.i remember years ago,i choked on dandelion dust clotted to my wrists.11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
back when i was six-years-old,
my mother called a plumber
and cursed in her sunday best
when the line went dead.
i couldn't see past the counter,
so i laid face-first against the floor
and waited for the pipes to unclog
so my parents could recommence
pouring my childhood
down the drain.
let's lay down and watch the sky fall.i've taken on the habit of latching my watchlet's lay down and watch the sky fall.11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
on the sixth-to-last notch so that it's too loose for my wrist
and every time i reach up to tame your mound of auburn hair behind your ear
time slips away from me
and we can entangle ourselves in the possibility of forever in its absence.
midnights always last longer than they should.i spend sleepless nights in my roommidnights always last longer than they should.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
staring at your picture on my mirror
and wondering why on earth someone as beautiful as you
would ever love someone like me,
but then i remember
the shadows beneath my eyes remind me of you.i got bored in class last friday,the shadows beneath my eyes remind me of you.10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
so i wrote a poem upon my hand,
and when my teacher walked by he read it.
"that's deep," he said.
"i know," i told him,
Way Back ThenRemember whenWay Back Then9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
your older sibling
was your superhero?
When all you did
to get ready for school
was eat a bowl of cereal,
no make-up involved,
and the only gossip you would hear
would be about
how Johnny broke his arm,
from climbing that big oak tree
in the school yard.
Remember when the basement
would be a dark chasm,
home to demons of horror?
(Well it still sorta is...)
When the biggest problem you had
was forgetting how to tie your shoes,
and all you had to worry about
was being able to remember
the way home?
I miss that too.
everything's freezing.monday is the only day i like,everything's freezing.9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
because it gives me something to live for;
my hopes that maybe you'll love me
on the weekend.
Two SidesOh. It broke.Two Sides1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Don't worry, we can fix it!
Why bother? It'll just break again.
But then we can make it stronger!
It won't make a difference.
Well, we have to fix it if it's broken, right?
Not unless we stop using it.
But we have to use it!
It's useless fixing it though; it never stays quite right.
Then we'll just have to make sure it does this time, won't we?
You know you're just setting yourself up for failure.
We'll see. You know we're going to end up using it.
And a week after we start using it, it'll break. Again.
We just have to learn how to use it properly.
And what is this "properly"? Have we been using it dangerously this entire time?
Well, no, but—
Exactly. It's not us. It's them.
You know, you shouldn't blame it on others.
Why do you never care about it?
Why do you care so much about it?
metamorphic.being a ghostmetamorphic.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
has lost its appeal
and i just want to slip back into the autumn warmth
of human skin,
but that sweater
no longer fits.
lush.you're all the "him, he, his"lush.11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
in every poem i write.
every star i watch,
especially the ones i wish upon as they fall,
holds your somber reflection.
you're every cube of ice wrapped up in a mint green cloth
you held against my shoulder
on the spot where some random face pushed me against the lockers.
every time it rains
i swear a smidge of your soul is falling from the sky,
maybe that's why i love to run outside with wheelbarrows of buckets
to catch and hold each drop.
sometimes it snows in this dreadful southern wasteland.
the earth is covered in specks of your grated skin;
ivory crystal so cold my hand goes numb,
so i can't feel the electric shocks from a handful of embracing midnight movie marathons
of low-budget dramas that we always just ended up acting out ourselves;
we never had any money to spend on tickets to the real movies,
we poured all our cash and coins into the old register at that used bookshop.
need i say that you were every line i read,
every syllable stained onto tho
say something, skylar.and my fingers are freezing as i type these words,say something, skylar.10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the joints only bend at the angles they would take
wrapped around your hand.
it's cold out here,
but i'm reluctant to leave your graveside.
i'm immersed in the expectation that a few letters from now
when i unfurl your name,
my fingers will find warmth or numb so i can't feel.
how to love a boy who is lost.fallhow to love a boy who is lost.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
like you're jumping from a cliff
into a thrashing sea whose waters you cannot tread,
dive into their depths and fill your lungs with waves.
just don't close your eyes,
because you have to search for him.
feel your weight drag you to the bottom,
feel the ocean embrace you
and don't be afraid of that pounding in your chest.
each heartbeat is sonar
a signal calling him and his calling you.
learn to swim now
if you drown you cannot save him.
swim to the fallen cities,
the submerged castles
and maritime gardens.
there you'll find him,
lost in thought and studying the fish.
i hope you saved some oxygen
so you can breathe during the kiss.
Not Even A Bite Her stomach growls,Not Even A Bite1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
But she ignores it.
For if she eats,
She will never be beautiful.
She puts down the fork,
She turns away.
Her starving ways.
Even an apple,
She won't put in her mouth.
Just a small bite,
She can never surmount.
No one will notice,
Stop Romanticizing Poets 2K14This is how I write my poems:Stop Romanticizing Poets 2K1411 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
You’re blonde and you have blue eyes.
You’re the perfect subject for my next great hit,
a long rambling epic or a two page sonnet
which would start by comparing your hair
to rays of the sun and your eyes to the ocean
at daybreak. Even if you’re more of a dishwater blonde
than sun-colored, and your eyes are less ocean and
more sky, I swear I write this poem and think
vaguely of you.
But here is a secret: I’m not writing a poem about you.
I’m writing a poem about the idea of you.
And I don’t know if it will be a love poem or
a break-up poem or a “please don’t go home and
commit suicide” poem or one of those
heartbreakingly honest poems that feels like
you put your pencil on paper and bled.
I don’t write poems like that often.
No poet does, not really,
we write poems about you and your blue eyes
because we don’t like how bleeding feels,
and it is much safer for us to pretend to fall in l
five second suicideand as i pour myself out on these canvasesfive second suicide2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i drip over the edges, spilling dots of
absence on the hungry earth.
they call me jane doe,
and i am not art.
every evening, i close the door,
close my eyes, disassemble.
slowly, i've become fleeting.
i float, my feet don't touch the ground.
how can i crash?
i fade, i dissolve,
but i've lost the motive to explode.
there's no glory in my death;
i leave no trace of the dramatic.
a man on the train last tuesday
nudged me, apologized, and carried on his way.
he's the last person who's
spoken to me since then.
we hit a notch in the tracks,
the car wobbled.
i stared at him silently,
counting the infinite futures
that suffocated behind my teeth.
i'm dying in my own penitentiary
with the cell door key in my pocket.
i'm not going to lie and say she was perfect.her skin was spotted with what she passed off as freckles,i'm not going to lie and say she was perfect.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
but what were really scars from a thousand summer suns
as she ran about outside,
climbing trees and treading rivers,
pretending to be an american bomber
in the midst of WWII.
she kept crimson stains on pearl pink lips,
which always had the habit of getting on her teeth
because she put on make-up after dressing in her car
and ordering coffee in every way she hated it
as she drove to the record store three times a day,
ignoring her job downtown.
she owned four and a half hairbrushes exactly,
i took count on the first night i stepped into that whirl-wind room,
though her lopsided up-dos of messy blonde hair revealed just how much her fingers
never broke the dust.
she had these lovely fragile hands
that showed each and every vein and bone,
the type of hands made for tearing boys like me apart.
how could i have even expected to survive,
a paper poet
held against a reckless flame?
The First KissIt wasn't even past eight when she ran into her room. She didn't bother and change her clothes as she simply slid under the covers. She cocooned herself in her bed hurriedly, unable to hold back the smile that crept up her face. She knew that she had acquired a new set of dreams this evening. Dreams that will be haunting her for a very long time.The First Kiss2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She'd banished every other memory on her way home. This one dream was so majestic it seemed unfit to share anything with it. She feared a picture of her precious moment would seep through the smile she couldn't hide and someone would catch it and drag her back into the dull silent world.
It was a kiss that lasted seconds, but in her head it was a cinematic that went on for hours. Her heart pounded so viciously to the point she thought the sound alone could fill the entire world around her. She recalled her kiss, a blush creeping on her cheeks.
She closed her eyes tightly as she stirred in bed. Maybe her dream will go on