there's no such thing asthey met during the death of a party, of all the potentially poetic places. more people were leaving than arriving, and it was becoming apparent four a.m. was just too late for some people. not these people. she was a peroxide princess, flipping her bleached hair over one shoulder and popping her hip. she was sipping on a cloudy lemon drop, licking her lips lucidly. he was watching static slide across a broken lcd screen, a long crack running down the middle of the picture. he was wearing dark raybans that covered his eyes; the frames a partially translucent cheetah print, but you could only see it if you were looking real close. he was taking slow drags off a cigarette. girls came and went, all bouncing in front of him but he waved them away, preffering the view of bird egg-speckled black and white over their crash diet bodies and their warpaint makeup. that's when she decided he was hers.there's no such thing as in Short Stories More Like This
the closer she got the less she could see him. his skin was made of paper tissue, and as she app
007.-- heaven ?my heaven is not in blue eyed boys and clear, summer skies.007.-- heaven ? in Free Verse More Like This
my daydreams don't consist of romeos or stammering heart beats
no fleeting glances, no sweaty palms.
my loverboys started smoking at age twelve, stopped caring at age thirteen
quite consistently i've found myself to have chosen sure heartbreak over
a 'beautiful romance'
neither one of us would feel human when we kiss
but it's not from esctacy, it's nonchalancy
instead of saying i love you
we say goodnight
and nothing says goodbye like a bullet
and i wish my heart were bullet proof
i wish i knew what was good for me
i feel like if i stopped swallowing smoke it'd be easier to breathe
but that's not who i am, not today
people keep telling me
'you don't have to ask permission to love me'
and people keep telling me
'you don't have to say sorry for things you didn't do'
i'm building my foundation on broken sidewalks
and i'm starting to think my stars are crossed
and maybe i'm doomed to live like this
wishing nothing but illfate on m
fucking filthyi want tragic hipbones and milky, fitting skinfucking filthy in Free Verse More Like This
i want seaglass eyes and i want a house with a few rooms
all with comfortable beds where we can lay
our bones all put together like puzzle pieces.
i know too many songs to sing alone about starvation
and i know too well the melody my heart beat trembles
i want cigarettes and cocaine
i want mirrors and razorblades
and i have it, i have it
i want instability and irresponsibility
i want every atom of your body
welded to mine, because that's the
only way we'll ever touch
i want you to pick up all my shattered
pieces and say you still love me
i want you to see me breaking and
i want you to turn around to hold me
i want you to fix my broken bike
chain, to kiss me and tell me i'm okay
to punch me right in the fucking
face and tell me that you're sorry,
you love me.
and i have it, i have it all.
i have every masochist, sadist,
beautiful, repulsive desire i crave
and i have you, i have you
it's not clean
it's not healthy
arsenic never seemed sowhen the sun's up you'll corruptarsenic never seemed so in Free Verse More Like This
our youth and when the sun goes
down you'll find yourself and you'll
point all your fingers and demand
'where are your drugs? we need
them. where are your drugs? we
need an escape. where are your
drugs? we need them tonight--;'
come home, even though you're
wearing the same thing sunday
that you left in friday; the same
cut off jean shorts and the same
sweatshirt but we can see your
undergarments hanging out of
your purse, don't lie anymore
(you're not good at it anyway)
we're eating birdseed and giving
ice cream cones to pidgeons, i can
see them staring at us from the
window sills, crashing against the
panes in waves of low black tide
and it's all so funny, so funny that
i can't even really see the humor
in it anymore but seeing as how
you're still laughing, i'll laugh too.
( could you please point me to your
chemicals? i'd like to feel like myself )
don't think i can't see you staring
at your scarred wrists and missing
the feeling of metal on your ski
simulacrumshe's a copy cat.simulacrum in Free Verse More Like This
even the sparkle in her eyes are mirrored from the stars, and she steals constellations just so she can sing about orion's belt.
and if you ask her she likes uppers, if you ask her she's made of amphetamines
but she cries when she crashes and she doesn't want the drugs at all
lying, she tells you she loves the way hipbones bruise her sides
but she flinches and bites her lips when you buckle into her, and you can't help but taste the fear on her tongue.
her eyes of made of glass her skin is made of porcelain and her lips pout like storm clouds, she does shots by the dozen and pretends she can't feel anything
she wears eyeliner thick in charcoal and she doesn't eat because she pretends like she's rotting from the inside out
and she breaks mirrors and she walks on broken glass
and when she smiles she makes sure it's hollow, just so she can go home and feel alone
her name rhymes with desert or storm and she likes to walk alone in a sea of those she xeroxed.
what i've been working on Somewhere far off voices cascade down to me, spinning fragmented sentences while I'm counting binary in my head. Zero zero one zero, I'm still trying to put the pieces together but a thousand piece puzzle is far to committed for a time like this. After long minutes the sounds start getting closer, I could finally pull my eyes open but it's not what I wanted to see. The sun was still right outside glass windows, and someone was shining a flashlight left then right in front of me. That's when I started to notice this wasn't where I fell asleep. The springs in that hospital bed were barely disguised by feathers and sheets, and I was trying to pull the i.v.'s out of my arm but no one would let me. My fingertips were as cold as the stethoscopes pressed up against the back of my ribcage, my spine, my pale skin stretched too tight over my sharp bones.what i've been working on in Short Stories More Like This
If that hospital were a keyboard it was missing an escape key. They told me I had t
she has eyes but no pupilsshe looked at meshe has eyes but no pupils in Free Verse More Like This
and with all the sorrow in her eyes
she traced her words around my
fingertips and whispered
'i can't feel anything at all except your
emptiness echoing off of mine.'
she asked me if i loved her and i said
she started to cry and i asked her
and she said she just wanted to feel
weightless for a moment or two
and love was heavy, heavy, heavy
i held her hand when
they pumped her stomach
and when she could speak again
she pulled me close and whispered
'you are a very strange creature.
but it's not the same when you
everything changes when you leave.'
on her bedside table,
the only flowers
were the ones i got for her
and they were a boquet of a dozen
seven in the morningi'm flipping this casette over but it's the same song, the same l shaped couch, l for light crawling through the window sill. i hate the way that i can tell he's lying, the way he whispers "i love you" just sounds too desperate, but it doesn't matter how his lips formed around the words. i'll never trust him.seven in the morning in Emotional More Like This
untangle the cobwebs from my eyes and i'll blink like a doe for you but instead you sprinkle dust over the silk and blind me completely. i had a dream about him and it broke all my bones. we fucked with rainbows in our veins and i hid from my angel to dance with the devil, who knew sinning could be so hopelessly romantic?
my throat is constricting and lightbulbs are smashing around us and i'm whispering, "we're terrible, this is wrong." and he's saying i know, baby i know.
and i'm shaking "i'm almost okay with it."
"okay with what?"
"always being wrong with you." and my anxiety acts up again, like we're dancing our skin glides against marble on porcelain, and i can't control the t
smoke ringssmoke is curling up precariously against the ceilingsmoke rings in General Non-Fiction More Like This
bouncing back and from the cement walls to my lungs
bubbles of ash stick to my trachea to remind me
nostalgia invades my thoughts and whispers to me
into a state of i can't sleep, not because i love you
i just love your touch and what you do with my nerves
maybe this is the nicotine buzz talking but i'd like to
let you know that you're just a body to me, just a body
with a pretty face who knows how to make me squirm
i like the way you snake your hand up my shirt when
across the couch my best friend is sleeping. i like the
way you tickle me into corners then pull my body tight
i like the way our bodies fit together like a glove even
though all our clothes are still on, and your nibbling
on my ear in the dark and i'm breathing heavyheavy
i like the way when everyone's awake you tickle me
into a corner one more time and you slam me against
you and stroke my skin and ask 'are you sure you're
not ticklish?' while you kiss my jawlin
zero13. misfortunatei walked a mile in your shoes. taking speed at eleven:eleven and drowning in the aftermath. my fingers shaking, my heart beating and i didn't even notice a difference. i couldn't find my hands and i was so hot but i was so cold and i couldn't keep the light on but the dark was so scary, you could fit whole galaxies in those shadows and i just couldn't fight the monsters tonight.zero13. misfortunate in General Non-Fiction More Like This
and trying to walk towards a mirror i turned abruptly and i was lost in my own room; so in the shiny reflection of my cellphone i saw a monster. racing to the computer i was half-screaming 'troy there's a monster in my reflection! there's a monster looking back at me!' and you said if you look long enough, the monster will threaten to kill you and you suggest i put my phone down before i start dying.
i was shaking and my muscles were contracting in violent spasms, but i didn't mind. i was cranking out a hundred words a second on absolutely nothing, and i wasn't controlling myself when i profressed 'i love you,
my eyes are swollensometimes i miss being a child,my eyes are swollen in Free Verse More Like This
when the hardest decision
was which crayon i wanted to use.
i would rather unintentionally bruised knees
over an intentionally bruised heart.
i was such a careful child.
i would spend my days drawing
chalk pictures on the sidewalk,
but tonight they are all saying
"no, you can't drive home, not like this"
but i always do, i always do.
i remember in my teenage years.
i would break into cars and homes
and my mother would just shake her head,
"what am i going to do with you!"
she always laughed it off
but right now, no one is laughing and
if she saw me now i don't think that
she would be laughing anymore either.
my eyes are swollen and my mouth
is dry and before i know it
once again i'm stripper tipping,
liquor sipping, drug tripping,
pressing my face against the gravel
and wishing it would all just stop.
let's goi once watched a young man say goodbye to a friend.let's go in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
he didn't look sad standing in front of the grave
he just looked content, like a weight had just been lifted
and he was finally able to move on.
a brown backpack hung off his shoulder, he gripped it loosely.
wire framed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose
and his messy hair was hidden by an awful green hat.
he turned to leave and as he walked past me he smiled.
i smiled back.
the wind carried leaves across the streets and i soon left as well.
each house i walked by was the same, with chipped paint and broken bricks.
(even the wallpaper in my own apartment mocks me
as it peels off a little more each day and when i see it i just sigh.)
i waited impatiently at the bus stop,
putting a cigarette in between my lips and lighting it.
at that moment i remember thinking,
if he can move on, maybe i can too.
charcoal hearti met him while summer was turning into winter. it was beautiful the way the leaves fell and we would try to catch them before they hit the ground.charcoal heart in Free Verse More Like This
each pair of jeans he owned were ripped and grass-stained. he was known for sporting duct-taped converse and his baggy sweaters would act as a place for him to hide.
he would wear his scars like a prayer, covering his body and i hated having to remind him that he was only sixteen years old sixteen years old with an expression that showed disinterest. sixteen years old with tired, brown eyes and wind-swept hair. sixteen years old with sharp bones that liked digging into my skin.
the first time we kissed it rained
the first time we fucked i felt the history that stained his skin.
one day we went to the beach and drew pictures with sticks in the sand. we stood still and let the tide come up over our bare feet and wash away our pictures.
he took a step back so the tide could no longer reach him. hey, he s
asphyxiation -c-f.asphyxiation -c- in Free Verse More Like This
you always held me so tight, it was suffocating in every way.
the way your hands gripped at my waist,
the way you tightened your hold on my hand until my fingers were purple.
you always told me you didn't mean to do it,
you just didn't want to lose me.
[i think people say that too, when they see that a butterfly
has died from being captured in a jar, or from having its wings pinched.]
you rolled me over so we laid face to face.
quietly repeating my name, you said,
youre everything i was looking for when i wasnt even looking.
youre my one in ten million.
i dont know how to tell you that i dont want to be.
[my lungs scream
for the oxygen you wont give me.]
somehow i knew i'd never be okay with you,
i knew that you broke my legs before i knew how to walk,
and you ravaged my wings before they'd been unfolded.
and as you did this, you were saying
"i want you, i need you, i love you."
and i was thinking "stopstopstopstop."
you are indigotoday i wrote a story about us,you are indigo in Free Verse More Like This
but i crumpled it up and threw it away.
today i cried three buckets of tears,
one for me and two for you
because i feel you deserve more than i do.
today i didnt see you, but i wanted to.
i used to smile because i thought it made you smile but
shortly after meeting you i found out that
the only reason you ever do
is because you are constantly .
will you ever get tired of living a life of over-doses
and nights you cant remember
faces you cant remember,
hangovers you wish would go away.
one more hit of acid and you're legally insane.
i havent touched you
i mean, really touched you
in so long and
if i could go back in time i would.
now i tell you how you cause thunder and
lightning in my heart but all you do is
smile that drunken smile.
(you're not making this any easier,
but i dont think easy is what you want.)
you remind me of indigo,
the color in the rainbow that everyone overlooks
and i cant keep p
everything he never couldx.everything he never could in Free Verse More Like This
it wasnt intentional for me to become a poet
until we slumber-slept together.
he was the boy with wounds stapled shut.
he was the boy who would scream at the sun and stars for being brighter than him.
he was just another cliché boy who dreamt in black and white
another cliché boy that never came back.
he unbuttoned my white shirt after his mothers third wedding
and i never wore it again.
he broke fine china in an angry storm when i blew smoke in his face
and said, i liked myself better before i met you.
he always looked best dressed with tears
and i learned his lifeline was short for a reason.
i was busy carving my name into every tree i could reach
trying to tell myself that what we did was alright.
he taught me that sometimes hate isnt a strong enough word.
i remember seeing him and walking the other way.
i can still hear his voice in the back of my mind saying
i dont know,
i dont know,
i dont know
casanovai.casanova in Free Verse More Like This
the simple sound of his name is a grievance
but you, on the other hand, are a writer
a glorious indulgence
notorious for not giving a damn that he doesn't
pay attention to the curve of your hips,
or the way your furniture is placed,
or the pictures on the wall
(and if he did he would notice
that not one of them was of him)
the little things aren't important anymore.
he tells you, "it is impossible to please
everyone so please yourself first"
and you tell him,
"you should try taking your own advice"
but he never does.
he doesn't believe in god because he knows,
he just knows that he won't make it into heaven
and right now,
right now you're scared to touch him
to put your arms around him
because what if you do touch him and
what if his brittle bones finally collapse?
you don't believe in god either,
but you often catch yourself
praying for him to get better.
you look at him
as he tries to telepathically communicate
how fucking sorry he is.
ericit's half past midnight. theeric in Free Verse More Like This
scent of tobacco and sea salt
cling to eric as he carves
secrets into his skin. they
look like raindrops and now
he's standing in the middle
of the hallway, looking at me
as if to say "see what i've
eric is the type of boy who
wouldn't be impressed if he
saw new york up close, but
would just stare at the
unnecessary amount of people
then shake his head and walk
away. he is the type of boy
who will end up smoking his
mothers ashes after she finally
dies from the disappointment.
he bends and breaks his bones
and it hurts my heart as i try to
curse him sober and curse him
clean. it never works. what,
with all these crying eyes, am
i suppose to do now?
words are pouring out of his
mouth like alcohol and i'm
bambi eyesthe word pretty suited him rather than the word handsome.bambi eyes in Free Verse More Like This
he was coffee-table sex and a fake smile.
youre naïve, he would say, but i like that about you.
(i never thought my naivety was a good thing
until he started telling me it was.)
he was sitting on his bed in a oversized sweater
and blue jeans.
he had one hand gliding up and down the neck of his guitar
while the other was strumming the strings.
last night i had a dream that you were happy again. i said.
he stopped playing and looked at me through his thick-rimmed glasses.
it sucks dreaming about things that will never happen, doesnt it?
yes. it does.
he is the boy who stopped cutting his hair
because change began to scare him.
his sungold skin turned grey
and his bambi-eyes rolled to the back of his skull.
thats when i started wearing black.
he was small in size but big in heart
and the cobblestone streets are starting to seem
empty without him.
for her, he willhe found her drunk, screaming at the lamp post at half past midnight.for her, he will in Free Verse More Like This
he found her asleep, bleeding on the bathroom floor.
he found her crazed, with needles in her hips.
he found her
he found her again and again.
he promised her that no matter what hed always find her
and she believed him.
he soon realized that was a hard promise to keep.
he sat back and watched her remove every layer off
her scarred body
and she looked at him as if she was searching for memories.
in her eyes there wasnt even a flicker of hope.
when he came home that night, he collapsed onto his bed and sobbed.
she once told him that she liked the color of flames.
for her, he will light the city on fire and they will watch it burn.
for her, he will
how do you live when you dont know what you are living for?
and he replied with silence.