I come from a town
where the stop signs are purple,
the children are inquisitive,
and the music is pure.
Melodic lines pursue me
from the places I've come,
with close harmonies, intricate rhythms,
and beautiful women to sing them.
My curls dance with the steel strings
of my favorite guitar as I play
on the corner by the coffee shop,
but I barely notice; for
I finger my favorite
guitar pick necklace,
remember the bow-tied boy
who gave it to me.
The corners of my lips turn up,
the bow-tied handsome boy
who lives away from
my purple stop sign town,
where the children are inquisitive,
and the music is pure.
The autumn leaves float down around me,
While summer sun shines overhead.
Winter winds blow harshly down.
I hide my hands inside
My coat, and notice
Nature can't make
Up her mind
We were practically babies
When all of this began.
I [still] have the pictures to prove it.
Now, two years later,
I realize it was easier to be
With you back then,
When my head was in the clouds,
And my heart,
Hopelessly lost with yours.
I look at you
Or what's more,
Look through you.
I miss the days
When things were simple.
You and I...
We used to catch fireflies
Every Friday night in summer,
And have races to the pool
at the end of the road.
And even though you usually won,
I always ran with you
Because in that moment
Nothing else mattered.
Your eyes lit up,
And your infectious smile
Spread across the street.
Now, we're going into senior year
And I don't see you anymore.
I see through you.
Right through you.
On good days,
I can almost see a jar of fireflies
In your 9 year old hands.
I spent too long drowning
under the weight of your devotion
breathing in your pressurized air
and counting the days
on the underside of my arm.
I tweaked myself, freaked myself
out by my willingness to fold.
And after everything,
it was you who walked away.
"How do you like it?"
I glanced up to see
two dark eyes
"The book I mean --
sounds pretty dry
but I've been meaning
to read it for some time now."
"It's uh. . ."
sipping my tea and trying
to string two intelligent thoughts together.
"It's not too bad,
but I've only just begun."
I smiled coyly and
revealed that I was only
in the second chapter.
He went on to tell me
of his studies at Duke,
and inquire after what
university I am attending.
There I was,
all dressed up and out
by myself, and it would have been
to twist a story and take this
on a trip.
But in the end of the day,
I'm no college student.
Just a high school senior
and writing poetry in coffee shops.
P.S. The book that I referenced is "How to Read Literature Like a Professor" by Thomas C. Foster.
the brown of my eyes has a story to tell:
a recollection of sorts, filled with
love, petty arguments and a
for life and yet as i sit here
with my pen and a page
i'm left drowning in my thoughts --
overtaken by my internal current.
my eyes used to be much lighter,
but with each argument
2 a.m. stress cleaning session,
and panic attack,
a certain darkness took her place
sucking the color and
will to live
from my brown eyes.
now as i stand,
looking through memories
like my favorite picture book,
my eyes have turned dull and
i have nothing left to give.
This is a bit dark and feels cliche, but it felt good to write it. Constructive criticism/comments appreciated! (:
She had an explorer's intuition
and a head full of dreams
that would suffocate
in this one light town.
I'd seen it since the beginning
and had to suppress
my selfish urge
to clip her wings
and keep her here.
But even so,
as we said our goodbyes
my eyes filled with hot tears.
I'll miss you so much
My voice cracked audibly.
Don't worry, Love.
I'm only beginning a new adventure.
Turning a new leaf.
Starting a new chapter.
I'll be back before you know...
And with that she was gone.
I waited until her plane took off,
and thanked God that I knew her.
It takes but a moment,
for my world
to come crumbling down.
But today feels different
since I've realized
that life isn't falling apart. . .
It's falling together.
but my lips
"Do you want
to try again?"
With pleading eyes
your head spin,
and Logic dance.
without a sound,
but your wide eyes
answer my plea.
And just like that,
I can breathe.
Let me know what you think!!
I fell into the deepest sleep
beneath last winter's ice.
All was lost around me
and my heartbeat slowed
almost to a stop.
But you were there,
sharing your warmth
to keep us both alive.
Spring came about
and thawed us out
left drowning in our thoughts.
But now you're gone.
Next winter will behold no savior,
But a new layer of ice.
He broke your heart.
Ripped it into a million pieces
And left me to piece you back together.
But not even I could fix you this time.
A few days later
I held out the matches
And watched as you burned
The fraying edges of your heart.
Aren't you proud, mom?
I saw your lips move
But was deafened by the screams
Of your dead lifeless eyes.
"You don't look fine"
"Then stop looking."
(of a fabric, rope, or cord) Unravel or become worn at the edge, typically through constant rubbing: "cheap fabric soon frays".
Some things can't be forced,
No matter how hard you try;
And some things can't be forced
With no real reason why.
Dumb luck first put us together,
And I tried to keep us apart;
But you pushed me, made luck prevail.
Now I hold my bleeding heart.
I wasn't what you really wanted;
You weren't my cup of tea.
So please shut the door behind you,
Just go and let me be.
"The telephoto lense is slightly cracked,
But everything else is in pristine condition,"
I said, straightening up.
"She's served me well over the years."
You raised your eyebrows.
"She?" you asked, quizzically.
"Well, of course she.
She's named after my grandmother who..."
I caught myself.
"Oh, you don't want to hear this."
"No, please go on."
I took a deep breath, and continued.
"She was named after my grandmother, Bella,
Who first introduced me to photography.
Grammy Bella gave me her old Polaroid
For my eighth birthday.
It was just..."
My voice trailed off,
"The coolest thing."
A picture perfect smile.
"My life is a series of documented flashes.
Lost my first tooth; flash!
Played in my first concert; flash!
Sang a solo for chorus; flash!"
"Wow," your voice cracked,
Nothing more than a whisper.
" I think I'd like to buy it."
I stumbled through the filing cabinets
Of my subconscious mind,
Thumbing through old flashes...
"Actually, it's not for sale."
I've been here for a few years now,
leaning back into the wall and waiting for my train.
Six years. I've waited six years
and not realized until just last year
that my train isn't coming.
It never will.
I remember the day we arrived.
Joyful. Hopeful. Eager for an adventure
and ready to leave this God-forsaken town.
June 10, 2007, we arrived: clueless.
The first person passed eight months later,
February 15, 2008.
She has slumped to the ground now. . .
nothing more than a pile of disintegrating bones.
August 12, 2008-- the second person died.
Now he, or what remains of him,
occupies the darkest, shadowed corner.
One by one, my fellow travelers passed
with no warning or sign.
Each body is in a different state of decomposition,
bearing an individual horror story
that will never be heard.
There is no one to hear it.
With each passing dawn,
I prepare myself for death;
as each day breaks,
I'm perpetually surprised that
my eyes open again.
The only thing left to do now is wait --
Wait for my impending death,
Wait to tell the stories of these surrounding skeletons,
And wait for a train that will never arrive.
"Wasn't it beautiful when you believed in everything?"
- Infinite silence. -
"Everything becomes real after you realize
How many people don't care about you."
"You might not know this,
But I'd go out of my way
Just to make sure you're okay,"
[She said with a downcast glance.]
"I don't think I'm emotionally stable enough for that."
- Suddenly, it's hard to breathe. -
Sometimes I get so sad that
I completely shut down...
And I feel like it's easier to sail away
Than to battle the current
Trying to make my way back
"When did this happen?
When did your scars become on purpose?"
"Just go and leave me alone."
"I miss the days when things were simple,"
[She whispered as she softly shut the door.]
I stare blankly at the wall,
And it doesn't matter
what anyone says to me
Because in that moment,
I don't exist.
You and I were different,
But it all started with a smile.
We came from different worlds,
And I actually believed you loved me.
After everything, I must confess
I need you.
But you never came back.
I think the worst part wasn't losing him...
it was losing me.
But there are no happy endings:
Endings are the hardest part.
Normal type are thoughts.
It's piece was constructed from posts on tumblr, except for anything in brackets ().
Here I am--
in the middle of my favorite cafe in old town.
My soft brown curls fall in front of my shoulders
and almost into my lipstick stained mug.
Here I am--
in my new sundress that shows off my hips;
I'm armed with my composition book, favorite pen,
and a genuine smile.
But there you are--
Walking up to the counter with a new Beauty,
holding her the way you used to hold me:
gentle but firm, and keeping her content.
There I go--
escaping through the smudged glass door
before you ever noticed me,
giving you a chance to stumble upon your new Serendipity.
Here I am--
Wrapped up in my blankets
Captured within my own harrowing darkness.
Here I am--
sinking further into a reclusive state
whispering It's just too much.
I didn't plan for this to happen,
But Life pays no mind to my plans.
I remember the day I looked Life
In the face and said
Today will be beautiful.
A coy smile came about her
And she slowly shook her head.
Anything you say, dear;
But I have other plans instead.
That was the day my sister
Got into the car
Where she took her last breath.
But a few years have passed now,
And Life gained compassion with her age.
I sternly told Life
I will not fall in love with him
Again she smiled, but made no sound
As she silently clasped her wrinkled, feminine hands.
Look at me now.
I didn't mean for this to happen
But he's always on my mind.
Please excuse the corny fiction, and rough form.
Do you still look for me
Coming off the metro
Like we always used to do?
Do you wait for me
To text you first
Or say "I love you too"?
Do you still hold your breath
At 9 o'clock remembering my promise
To call before you turned blue?
Well, my darling, I do too.