12:18And I think that 4am knows all my secrets,
I think it knows how you once held my waist as you told me secrets of your own,
I think that it knows that when I was lonely I would drink wine and dance under pine trees.
By Friday you smelt like Summer again,
you smelt of the salt kissed air on the nights our feet would trail along train tracks.
You kissed me again like that day in March,
you kissed me as you did when it was nothing but lust, nothing but star-like shadows.
drunken sinners1.drunken sinners2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the sky had bled introverted colors of
reds and purples,
like some drunken painter had decided to
declare his independence.
you kissed her pale pink lips,
and i thought about why you'd love such a
the liquor was golden and gleaming
in your rusty
and your voice after you drank a glass
was grunge and grey and
you were different afterwards.
like someone had lacerated out your heart
from your chest and left it beating in my
you were combing through the bible like
an unread diary,
and i could see jesus's disapproving face from your
you were sinning and
you were also adam and i was eve
and we were both damned to
The Meaning of 'No' and Where to Go From ThereFor my AP Language and Composition class, we were supposed to write an essay on a controversial topic. I chose Rape Culture.The Meaning of 'No' and Where to Go From There2 years ago in Personal More Like This
An important line that seems to be blurred when it comes to sexual advances and the act of sex itself is the idea of "when does no mean no". If a woman is blackout drunk yet still asks for sex, even though she might not remember it in the morning, surely it isn't against her will? Or if a girlfriend says no, maybe she's just playing hard to get, right? Wrong. No matter the innuendos and no matter the situation, 'no' does in fact mean 'no'. Regardless of how drunk the person is or what they are wearing, there is never an excuse for rape or an 'invitation' for sexual assault. But the question is where did this mindset begin and why is it acted upon so often and without reproof?
The catalyst and the enabler of rape is much more complex than just a man's lust: the crux of the issue lies in the idea of "Rape Culture". Rape culture is a society in which people of all a
you were speechless but full of wordsyou were speechless but full of wordsyou were speechless but full of words2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
as i cracked your spine and fondled your
you were full of desperation and angst;
sprinkled with glitter of hope and feigned
you were a tragic love story
i ran my fingers over you, apprehensive
of what the next few chapters would hold
but in my heart i knew you would be worth all
the pain in the end
CursorYou have always been in beat with my pulse.Cursor2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
As you blinked, I pumped.
You spelled, I lived.
Don't fail me now, Dear.
Your Marlboro LightsI'm letting go of the sightsYour Marlboro Lights1 year ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Of a future with you
With your Marlboro Lights
And your bottles of booze
Because death and desire
Seem to go hand in hand
And while we burn like a fire
We still fall with the sand
You were curing my lonely
I was making you worse
And I could pray to the holy
That you could live through the hurt
But I was making you bitter
I was making you drown
Between white lines of glitter
My love was holding you down
Once the future was bright
When I missed all the signs
Of your Marlboro Lights
And your tabletop lines
But you tore me apart
And we brought out the worst
From inside our own hearts
Nothing cuts like the first
You were curing my lonely
In the dead of the night
And I could pray to the holy
That you could live through the fight
But I was making you colder
I was killing you slow
Between a rock and a boulder
My love had to let go
Once we dreamed of a future
And we wanted it all
Thought with stitches and sutures
We might survive the fall
Now the bruises and break
the smell of our sleeplessness-the smell of our sleeplessness5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
'You've never really felt pain, until you've lost everything' he murmured, his eyes fixed on the dirt between our feet. 'You've never really had your heart broken if you can put the pieces back together.' He paused, taking a small sip from an almost empty wine glass and continued with his drunken monologue.
'You've never really learnt to appreciate their hands if the hands of another don't make you sick to your stomach, and you never understood the way they smelt unless you can smell it on your pillows'
He looked up at me, his face wistful and his grey eyes reflecting the cigarette he held in his hand and stared right though me as he muttered.
'And you know what, you've never really been in love if you can learn to love another'
He doesn't like the way he looks anymore. His once smooth skin is now a victim to his grief, to gravity and to his old age. His hair, growing more and more grey with each day that passes had once been dense and thick, dark brown - framing his luri
i'm writing down things i don't know how to sayit has been months since i've put pen to paper and not thought of you. it's been months since i've been able to paint portraits with pencil across a paper plain. i'm having trouble forming sentences. i'm having trouble falling asleep at night. i'm having trouble.i'm writing down things i don't know how to say1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
i am writing down the things i don't know how to say.
you hit me like a freight train, suddenly, without a siren or horn. i guess that's why i haven't been able to speak, i've been lying, breathless, on my back for what seems like a long enough time for me to bleed out. i'm constantly waiting for something to happen. i wake up every morning and i always check to see if you're still here. always. i'm constantly waiting for something to happen and i'm not sure what it is.
i'm writing things that i can't verbalize.
i'm having those dreams again. i spent six months on the road last night. i crossed every border that this country has to offer me. i took a shot in every side-of-the-highway bar i could find. it still wasn't enough. n
10.55my words were always bound to you.10.551 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i never knew what to write about before i wrote about the flitting of your eyelashes against mine. there was nothing that inspired me more than the way in which your eyes were always so endlessly bound to the horizon. you made poetry seem like it was dancing, as if sentences were the rhythm to my favourite song and i'd known them for as long as i could remember. the way you held me brought to mind a thousand adjectives; made me feel like there was a whole language i could twirl around itself like ivy and still not be finished describing you, or the curve of your lips or caramel of your skin or the way in which there is a smile i have that belongs just to you.
i've never known a feeling that's made me mix tears with pen ink on the page other than the ones you've made me feel. even your absence, in all of it's harrowing emptiness, drew emotion from me like blood, and like sap from a tree i was able to draw words. empty, meaningless and for nobody, but w
4.02there are no sails on this ship4.0211 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and i am afraid of the water
but god, you make me want to dive
saving leftover shoelacestonight, we remember how to live.saving leftover shoelaces5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we live while dying,
and no, it's not cliche.
hanging ourselves with
piano strings, contemplating
what our pastel skin will
look like in a year or two.
today, i am a five year old, with only joy.
i realized my hope blew like dust
in the wind, but i sat still waiting
for you to catch it for me. you
were too busy holding your hands up,
trying to get a glimpse of the
crashing skyline that had so long
eluded you, the sun warped your vision.
the lines blurred and stretched before
your weary eyes, how many more years
did you plan on staring?
i never dreamed
of death until
i was really alive.
tomorrow, we realize life is almost worth living.
i spent a month with you in therapy, for
little more then moral support. you were the
support to my moral, and i was the moral to your
cheap three a.m. thrills. while our blankets stay
cold in the dead of night, we keep warm. staking
our claim on the other's skin. like animals,
we mark our territory.
i saw forever i
fliesshe told him of the nails under her skin, the firm feeling of fear, foreboding, hanging over her like clouds. she told him of her once aching head, her once aching chest, her once aching hips. she spoke as though the world was listening, she spoke as though the world was confined to this one pair of ears.flies1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
she told him stories about the things she's seen, she mentioned her migrant heart and her wandering eyes. she mentioned the bridges she's built and subsequently burned, the roads she's walked down, the ones she's avoided.
she spoke as if he was listening intently. she spoke as though he could hear her. she whispered as though he was inches away. as if her hands were wrapped around his waist, with her head on his shoulder. she's still having those dreams. he whisks her off her feet and they walk away, fully cliche, into a sunset that means nothing more than the coming night. she knows the night has already come. her eyes have remained open for as long as his have been tightly locked. s
what were we made for?i am the distance between your heart and somewhere forgotten. there is nothing more terrifying than living with ache, with loneliness. feeling it claw at your insides and tighten your throat, feeling eyelids grow heavy, mind pounding, thoughts never ending.what were we made for?5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
hearing all kinds of noise, hearing you go farther and farther away until there is nothing left but the rest of the world behind me. i cannot get myself to walk the other way, instead i stand in the same spot hoping one day you will come back. but that's never going to happen, is it?
i've learned that no matter how much time passes the people you wish would change and the life you wish you had will never come to you. you have to walk those steps and find it somehow. you have to move on despite what is building up inside of you. realizing you deserve more for yourself and acting on it is true strength,
even if it means walking through life burying all this pain, washing the stains of memories with feelings in the present. i am the di
.you are dead and buried.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
six feet under yourself,
still feeling the way you did
when you were seventeen
and when you bathe, you still
keep your head under the
water, wrists upturned, red
eyes open, trying to drown yourself
bricks or kissesi won't throw kissesbricks or kisses5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
in your direction. i'll be
throwing bricks instead
.:because the world today:.we no longer lay on our roofs to watch the sky,.:because the world today:.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
nor do we smile and fingerpaint [but we cry];
we don't tear up at movies
nor run, fearing scraped knees.
we don't awake to watch meteor showers
or catch hummbingbirds drinking from flowers.
we no longer "compare thee to a summers' day,"
instead we say, no, text, "i <3 u!" [so cliche!]
we are no longer aware of who walks the streets today - foe or friend;
we have crawled into ourselves, waiting for the world to end,
but never have we stopped to think, to wonder, to imagine:
what could we be if we could again begin?
.when her love left, it left.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
the house empty
and she says
i hope one day it'll
come back to me,
cos i don't keep this shotgun
on my front porch for nothin'
you burn-you burn3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i have waited for the poet -
for the boy whose eyes shine
with the understanding
of a thousand worlds
and i will hold your hands
against mine, against the world
share silence and fall asleep
in your voice, echoing guitar
shallow gravesi am hanging onto the colours in the sky by a spider's web, bound delicately around my bony fingers, gyrating me as i grasp hold, trying to reach something beyond the horizon. struggling to remember anything real, everything twinging into bold phantasms.shallow graves5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the spiders, they are the only ones who listen to me anymore, they make beautiful patterns across the nape of my neck and down the curve of my back. they want to protect me, they say. i tell them i am not as beautiful as them, why do they want to?
i can feel myself begin to seep into nothingness, snowflakes fail to melt as they cascade onto me. voices fly passed and touching softens beyond my exterior. my bones withering, my skin thinning, my lungs shriveling, my brain searing. i am not real, i whisper through my teeth to my eyes. but time keeps going, the world keeps spinning.
doctor i ask, what can you do?
when i learned that all your kisses and seductive words were all pretense, i made sure to sneak in all of my heartbeats into yo
giving upMy father once told me that I was the kind of person who should never give up on anything. I was young, I had no idea what he meant. He leaned into me, stared into my bright eyes and told me that the world becomes a scary place when you're older. It eats you alive, if you give up.giving up3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He was sitting on the other side of a terracotta coffee table, on the back porch of our old house, grape vines clawing their way up and around the wooden poles on either side of him, the sunlight beginning to shine through their thin, bright green leaves. This is how I remember him now between the grape vine frame, cigarette in his hand, one knee curled up to his chest and a smile spread across his not yet darkened face. This is how I like to remember my father. How he was when he was happy, when he was young and innocent and he lived as though he knew the whole world was bowing to him; waiting at his fingertips.
Sometimes though, I can't help but remember the way he'd cry every time he'd call me for m
Everyday wears me downA year ago today I left you sitting on the street looking up at the sky with your black eyes, hands pooled in your lap. Your pianist's fingers still for once. I had small hands and I used to envy how your fingers bridged octaves so damn easily.Everyday wears me down5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
You said, 'It's going to rain.'
And I walked away.
The day before I left, I wrote you a song.
I don't think you understand. Jason. David. Whoever you want to be today.
How your hands snag on my hair and the way
you make me smile even when I'm about to fall apart
Last winter I cradled my heart ─
I never finished. It was cold and quiet in my room. Outside the sun blazed down. The air conditioner buzzed. I drank the last of my Coke and dripped splotchy tears all over the sheets. I heard you were a player from a friend of a friend. She told me I'd better watch out.
A player. Yeah, I could believe that. You were always the best at whatever you did. Playing Mozart. Playing your audience to oblivion. Playing girl's hearts. I sh
there is far too muchthe sun is the closest star to the earth, and travelling at the speed of light, it takes eight minutes for it's shine to reach us. the next closest star is called alpha centauri, and travelling at the same speed, it takes two years for it's light to reach us.there is far too much4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
you told me this long ago, on a summer night, when we laid together on the grass in my backyard, watching the clouds weave themselves through the stars. you told me many things that night - that you were color blind, your favorite type of cigarettes, the best spray paint brands and that you loved me very much.
after it is all gone, i have forgotten your favorite cigarette brand. i have forgotten what you told me about color blindness, and spray paint. i have now forgotten what you smell like, what you thought of my writing, but i do remember what it feels like to love and be loved back. i remember what it felt like to wake up in the morning next to you, and what it was like to have your arm wrapped around my while i slept.
behind these teeth and eyesyour shoulders rise, mountain peaks dipped in azure blue, your face buried in my collarbone as you allow yourself to melt over me,behind these teeth and eyes5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my hands carressing your skin, feeling like we are amongst an autumn wind that runs through the cracks of my hands, a sensation that replenishes your back bone, dries the tears that built up like cobwebs, spun softly, hidden in the brink of windows, forgotten.
except i saw and i broke everything that was keeping you down.
you do not know why we didn't make love tonight, i would tell you it is because i do not have the strength in me, but you have your eyes closed
and you are drifting into a transfixion strained with words we do not want to hear said. sights that make your stomach burn forest fires, bones rubbing together, kissing the thin layer of skin
you do not ask me to please eat, you do not ask what colour my eyes are in the morning light, or why i look so sad
you do not ask but i ask "baby please don't cry, sh everything will be alright."
we do not
the morning of bluesadness pours through the air as the days coalesce, a thick grey duskthe morning of blue4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
hovering above the skeletal trees, this winter lays too calm and still for me
to not think about you, to not get lost in this emptiness. strange it is,
the sensation of fading, body submissive to starvation, becoming smaller
because i cannot stand to feel the weight of the present. i am imprisoned
in this shell of a human being, the person i have become has no soul anymore,
it died with the numbers, it left when you did.
i don't want to hear this heartbeat, as i drink my tea in burleigh china
i am the only one awake, watching an azure blue transcending onto the furniture.
wondering what the sound of your breaths are like, how things would be if you still wanted me. strange it is, the realization of how sad things can be the most beautiful, the most profound.
winter winds whisper to me that perhaps things inside will never get fixed, as they collide with the window softly. i am not sure either, everything inside feels
beginningYou know those things in life, that you just can't explain -beginning5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
those feelings that there aren't words for,
that make you want to scream and cry and laugh all at the same time,
and when things are so beautiful it hurts?
When you begin to imagine how big the earth underneath you really is,
and those moments you realize that despite that,
it's still the smallest things in life that mean the most.
Those moments when you begin to begin to appreciate
that there are so many beautiful things in this world
that you will never see -
because it makes you appreciate the ones you do see,
that little bit more.
You know those moments in life, when you first understand
how special all the things you have actually are
and when you finally start to believe that love
really does exist?
Happiness isn't a price tag,
or the number of wrinkles on your forehead
and it's not the amount of times you've seen a shooting star
or places you've left your footprints -
happiness is the way you cherish these moments