things I never told you. by littleblueraccoon, literature
Literature
things I never told you.
some poems feel like water.
this one is more like sand,
and I'm suffocating in the maw
of a desert that was better left
rusting its clairvoyance.
it started one night when I remembered
that I've kept everything you've ever given me:
roses, faces, promises.
I never really understood
how to let things go,
and when the thought of
turning the things you'd touched
away from my doorstep
choked the poetry from my throat,
I realized why.
I keep reminding myself that
I should probably be nicer to you,
but I think you already know
that I'm only capable of being nice
when I'm cornered and out of ideas.
and despite what you claim,
you've never been
I used to love
I used to dream
I used to hope
But I forgot
I need something
(Someone)
To remind me of these beautiful things
For a shard of happiness
So I can love again
Dream again
Hope again...
Live again
i.
your words drip with crimson
as you bite your lip;
you always liked to pretend
you held the strength of metal,
and now all that’s left is the aftertaste of copper
trickling down your throat-
what happened to the child throwing pennies in the fountain?
ii.
hidden under the threaded sleeves of your sweater,
I can picture your hands shaking like earthquakes
and your fists held clenched;
I worry your fingernails cut dashed lines
into the palms of your hands,
like the ones painted on back roads and highways-
I’m worried where you plan on going
iii.
viewing your puffy eyes and hearing woebegone-winded words
tangle on your tra
Stop putting words in my mouth by Tangled-Tales, literature
Literature
Stop putting words in my mouth
You shove your fingers
down my throat,
and insert words
I never spoke,
in desperate hopes
to make me choke
but beware:
my pearly gates
won't hesitate
to bite
the hand
that feeds me
these days
your name has been slipping
in and out of my rib cage
and sometimes,
my heart forgets to beat.
it's funny,
i suppose—
how even after all these months i still
don't want to believe that
you're dead. how during the
first couple of weeks i prayed
to a god i didn't believe in and begged to know
if death tasted sweet to you. how once,
when the monsters in my head
didn't let me sleep, i
wrote you three poems and then
destroyed four.
you were a supernova that
lit up my life for
a few radiant moments before,
like all good things in this
filthy world,
you came to an end.
the sinner in me hopes that you have wings now.
but i th
You're not a failure for failing by Tangled-Tales, literature
Literature
You're not a failure for failing
Her small, anxious hands
grabbed the cup, a bit too large
as it slipped down and tumbled to the ground,
the milky mess covering the carpet:
her mother let out a disapproving sigh
and rolled her eyes,
“Will you ever do anything right?”
and that’s when she began
to limit her aspirations,
so that her dreams would never be too large,
so she’d never make any mistakes
she’d never again drop the cup,
but she’d never have enough to drink.
you're much stronger than you think by Tangled-Tales, literature
Literature
you're much stronger than you think
I'll be the first to tell you
scissors don't need to be brought to a wrist
to cut deep
because cutting off your heart from you head,
or yourself from your dreams,
is also enough
to make you bleed
and there's ink spilled all over these pages,
and at times it seems tears
are cheaper than water from a spout:
these lines need diluted,
these blots are a dark, dark sea
and maybe I'm not too good at swimming,
even if it's just through a pool of ink
but I've learned if you just keep paddling,
you're much stronger than you think.
You're worth so much more by Tangled-Tales, literature
Literature
You're worth so much more
She was the type
to cut her wrists,
and then swallow the
razor blade,
because looking at what
she'd done
was even harder
to digest
but I want to tell her
to let the emotions
s l
p i l
out of her mouth,
instead of her
skin,
and that I'll gladly
let the words slice me,
if it means
it'll save
her wrists.
stardust in the sheets. by littleblueraccoon, literature
Literature
stardust in the sheets.
tonight I'm gonna
pull down the sky,
throw it into my bed,
and strip it naked.
but I'll make it slow
and quiet.
I'll add just enough
warm touch
to make it seem sincere,
breathe in just enough life
to make it feel secure.
I'll whisper that I love it
and hold it tight, tight, tight
before I turn away from it,
let it memorize my back
as I fall into
dreamless sleep.
A letter to people from my past by Tangled-Tales, literature
Literature
A letter to people from my past
You just can't go back,
even to the times you once thought were the greatest.
It's like the playground you played on as a child.
You have endearing memories of the unique mixture of warm mulch and cool metal,
but when you return to it years later,
it's not quite how you remember.
The once large play area now seems small compared to the large cities you've explored.
The slide that once seemed to go on for miles
is nothing compared to the walks and runs and car rides you've been on:
the thousands of miles you've conquered.
The swing that once made you feel like a bird high in the sky hardly gets you off the ground-
feet dragging.
(mayb
I'm kind of going crazy,
I'm caught inside my mad mind.
Ten different things weigh me down, but I'm still fine!
The words are coming slowly, my mind is on a slur.
I can't string this poem, because the brain is on a blur!
And I get so frustrated, I tear away at skin;
The hair is falling down and the voices make a din!
I wanna shut them out, but I can't find a key,
So all that I can do is simply shut away the ME.
I wanted to write you a lovesong. by 91816119, literature
Literature
I wanted to write you a lovesong.
i.
Summer rain has nothing
on the sound of your laugh,
little pinpricks of sunshine
gradient
lounging across the cobbled
streets of midnight,
cooled grey eyes, shining
tears of nightlights
glowing like stars in your cheeks;
kissing strangers
in darkened archways,
hollow stone walls
reverberating through my skull --
ii.
back to earth, loving
coffee-stained hair
taking root under the city floor,
stomach-churning light-paths
breathing across cool hands
in warmer songs, notes
of harmony
bundled under my sheets
parceled, scattered
thoughts that last all night
and drift between the rafters
of my chest
iii.
wanting at last;
pure, starry sky and
d
It really wasn't...
And I know that I can twist this truth as much as I want...
Whenever I'm sober, when I know I can put up that fake plastic smile;
Just a few formal words that burn like acid from a liar's lips!
"Differences in personality, a divergence in ideals..."
Please, fucking, SPARE ME!
Because when I look in this mirror, I know.
When I see myself looking back at me, I know.
Right here, right in front of my own blackened self;
Those eyes that both reflect and stare into my dingy soul.
I was the problem.
I was the instigator.
I was the perpetrator.
And when I had broken every last bit of her,
I was the one, who let it al
I Want to Write You a Poem by kiwiootori, literature
Literature
I Want to Write You a Poem
I want to write you
A nice little poem,
Something to tell you
How I've felt about you,
How much you
Clutter my mind
With your laugh
And your smile
And everything you do.
I want to write you
Something romantic,
Something sweet,
Something to make you
Fall in love with me,
Something to make you
See your real worth,
Something to show you
How much you mean to me.
Somehow, the words
Get lost in my heart,
Taking up space,
While I'm too afraid
To empty them before you;
Let you see me bare
And broken, with nothing
To hold onto but a hope
That you'll fix me.
You are all a work of art by Tangled-Tales, literature
Literature
You are all a work of art
Take me to
an art museum,
and tell me
I am the most beautiful thing
in the room
grab my shoulders, and
shout to the gallery-goers,
"do not touch
this girl,
this work of art."
Thoughts I'll never tell you by Tangled-Tales, literature
Literature
Thoughts I'll never tell you
3am.
it seems nighttime
has never looked this dark
(or maybe my emotions
are just blurring
my perception)
squinty eyes turn
to my alarm clock:
a lighthouse
in the roaring black sea
delirium fades,
as the dream
s l o w l y
comes back
How can I miss someone
who wasn't even mine?
Your feelings are valid by Tangled-Tales, literature
Literature
Your feelings are valid
I once read
that a teaspoon of matter
from a black hole
can weigh thousands of tons
upon Earth
so think about that
when someone tells you
your problem is no big deal
for
it may not look
like you have the weight of the world
upon your shoulders
but it sure can feel like it.
A poet is a liar with a silver tongue pen, and a bleeding heart on the other end.
We are anagrams and metaphors and sphinxes in sheep skin.
Every letter is an actor that we send into the wind,
And we're only as good as the words you believe in.