Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
609 · Apr 2019
a new opal
DM00 Apr 2019
lucid, iridescent.
A vibrant remedy
to a gray backdrop.
three months felt like six,
and the past four have felt like two.

A pretty blade on my ear, benign,
what a lovely reminder that
the world can be good again--
you just have to shift the angle
to see it shimmer.
532 · Apr 2019
sunday afternoon gloom
DM00 Apr 2019
3:23 and I think
to be worrying
about my terrible grade
about the train being too slow
about having alcohol in my veins the night before

is profoundly lucky.
502 · May 2018
You're My World
DM00 May 2018
the sky today reminded me of my mind when i’m with you.
It was clear, periwinkle-blue with lazy clouds that take place
like my half-formed thoughts around you.
You are the sun,
and I’m the sky wrapping around you.
My thoughts wander,
but you are my core.

The weather changes,
from rain to thunder to snow to fog,
but you remain
throughout it all.

The rain shows me the reality,
the thunder is the qualms of our friendship,
the fog clouds my brain when we’re pressed together on the couch.
the snow was when you fell asleep on me that one time, and I could have stayed there
forever,
slightly uncomfortable but too much in love to care.

But the rain sobers me up from your intoxicating elixir,
the rain is your ‘girl’,
the rain is my insides melting, melting, melting.
And yet the clouds still clear,
the rain still dries
and the sun still shines
whenever you’re near.
Also written two years ago.
467 · Apr 2019
anxiety
DM00 Apr 2019
like a boiling lobster,
i don't feel it coming,
i dont see it
before it
hits
did not have time, whoops
428 · May 2018
Last Day of Summer
DM00 May 2018
The cicadas were chirping
(or maybe screaming)
moments ago.
It was a nice sound,
if bittersweet.

This morning I said
“summer mornings are nice.
I never enjoy them as much as I should.”

I did today and and I want to now.

I don’t want to spend the last day of summer
alone,
in my room,
waiting.

Saying I’m doing something
but really,
all I do in here
is wait.
370 · Feb 2019
A Golden Hour
DM00 Feb 2019
we slide off,
each in diverging directions
with a slant backwards glance—

and I am caught up in your
eyes, caught up
in the openness of your laugh,
inviting me to stay
just ten minutes
longer in your bed.
inviting my lips to speak
what yours already know:
there is no time
for us, but
let me drown in you
anyway.

—you turn the corner,
that golden beast sinks.

And I won’t see you.
360 · Apr 2019
nostalgia
DM00 Apr 2019
Tell me it’s bad to want to hold on
to trudging upstairs, laughing,
eating on the benches,
singing in the theatre and places
we weren’t supposed to

It’s bad to want to hold on but tell me
that those warm days weren’t
the best of your life,
staying up all night crying
when we realized it was ending

Tell me that holding on is bad
because all I remember is talking
for hours upon hours with
dusk falling, everyone laughing,
and feeling drunk without drinking

Don’t tell me holding on is bad
because I want to go back to a bonfire
when you sat next to me,
back when we had a chance.
Before we went into the dark,

with naive hopes held high.
345 · Dec 2018
Untitled
DM00 Dec 2018
I guess
if we died in the middle,
I can’t be mourning you after.

I’m still in love with you,
but only when
I’m alone.
340 · Sep 2018
UGH
DM00 Sep 2018
UGH
ugh       ugh    ugh ugh ugh     ugh         ugh
ugh       ugh    ugh                     ugh         ugh
ugh       ugh    ugh                     ugh ugh ugh
ugh       ugh    ugh          ugh    ugh         ugh
ugh       ugh    ugh          ugh    ugh         ugh
   ugh ugh            ugh ugh        ugh         ugh
I like someone and can't do anything about it and this is the only thing that can sum up my feelings properly I'm sorry for this fake poem ( i personally don't consider this a poem really, but it's just like a placeholder for when I can express my feelings in poetry form. I think if someone writes a poem like this and considers it a poem who am i to tell them it's not?)
309 · Sep 2018
Our Kiss
DM00 Sep 2018
there was
your mouth,
And then
there was
mine.

I can still hear
us breathing,
giggling,
crashing together,
and

I won’t
ever
forget those small,
inconsequential
declarations of attraction—


I am gorgeous,
inconsequential,
****: also inconsequential.
hot: of the least consequence…
until you whispered
—so low I may have imagined it—
beautiful.

And then it changed.
We stopped laughing—
your breaths in my ear
became longer.
my fist became just
my hand,
in your hair.
your hand travelled,
a long journey:
from my **** (amazing, you say)
to holding my face,
a wandering thumb
gliding across my cheek.

And let us not forget
how you stopped
and pulled me closer
before
your lips yielded,
And became more pliable than before,
how
soft and slow,
you kissed me into persuasion.
hi hello, read my previous poem for a bit of fun context
303 · May 2018
Blue In Love
DM00 May 2018
Red is for the feeling when she’s mentioned.
But scarlet is your favorite color,
and it’s my favorite dress, and favorite deception,
yet her name makes me feel smaller.

brown is for the color of our eyes:
yours are dark chocolate,
while mine are milky on the inside.
and I‘m always in your orbit.

I think I like you like the color blue.
sometimes we’re teal and laugh all day,
but for the promises we make it’s navy too
and there are three words I wish you’d say…

the world was dull until you came in,
and if you left I’d hate to see again.
303 · May 2018
One Touch
DM00 May 2018
I thought
and I think
in waves.
the memories of you nudge my conscience.
I fight the current,
but helplessly
I sail into the past.
I see you in my dreams, often.
is it a guilty conscience or
a suppressed fantasy?

am I more golden or blackened?
noble or damaged?
pure or sinful?

nothing reminds me of you,
I’m not in love.
I have someone else.
but something golden must
hide a blackened core.
you’re the blight of charcoal in
my sunrise heart.

a part of me that might never leave,
no matter how hard I try
to ignore it.
the best I can do is
to ignore you.
that way,
this blight of charcoal won’t consume
me,
setting me alight with the slightest touch.

I don’t want to be set on fire
by
your
lips.
This was written a year ago. This was loosely inspired by the song "tearing me up" by Bob Moses because I had a similar situation to the one described in the song. Also the line "I fight the current,/ but helplessly/ I sail into the past." is inspired/based on a line on the last page of the Great Gatsby (F Scott Fitzgerald).
292 · Apr 2019
A Fresh Start
DM00 Apr 2019
You’re going back,
stumbling into the day you said good-bye.
Tears, thick and fast
with soupy air to drag you down and no way out.

Fall is tumbling
into the rabbit hole you peeked into,
a gentle, knowing push…
a push nonetheless, sealed with a kiss.

Then winter seeps in,
brittle and thin, the unforgiving ticking
of a broken clock sleeping.
So you freeze, and time sleeps with you.

But winter breaks,
with sweet air filling my lungs.
Those traitorous sacks,
why didn’t you let me breathe in before?
I'm doing escapril and will probably be uploading every day's poem
269 · May 2018
A Fruitless Sunday
DM00 May 2018
What is the point of love,
if it be never-lasting?
This intense hormone-driven
connection
serves to satisfy a few present moments.
We may remember,
but only because it was our first.
And I may regret
becoming so embittered,
at so young an age.

Every moment spent with you,
I can delay these thoughts.
But alone,
on a fruitless Sunday,
with nothing to satisfy me,
I think to myself
that we are more lonely-
that I am more lonely-
than I want to believe.
written a year ago
267 · Apr 2019
questions for you
DM00 Apr 2019
What will it feel like
To kiss you again?

Six months is a long time.
Will I recognize the swollen *****

Of your arms, your back,
Your legs against mine?

Long nights imagining you—
Close as we can be, will be over.

You’ll stir in your sleep, maybe
I’ll kiss your cheek?

Months and weeks will fall away
In the future and the past.

And no matter how many times
You bind yourself tightly

To the sinking ship that is my lips—
You know we’re not going to last?
not part of escapril, just felt inspired
248 · Mar 2019
Untitled
DM00 Mar 2019
its weird, I like can't
get enough of you/ your eyes
are just so pretty
248 · Apr 2019
19th summer
DM00 Apr 2019
Before a breath in, it is there—
muggy, swampy, heavenly.
Before a barefoot step outside, sweat folds
into the skin and won’t let go

that time they write about
is upon us.
Consider this the preface
to a 19th summer.

Where you sneak around
drinking sub-par humid beer,
stolen from the forgotten bucket left outside.
The June when you finally get to see
what all the fuss is about—
a sweaty push and pull you’ve wondered about
for years.

Freedom is before you,
released from the shackles of high school,
from a love that came too quickly,
and refused to leave.

get on that train,
into that car that you can finally touch;
do things with that boy you don’t love.

Home has never felt more like home
than when you’re on the porch,
venturing into a midnight
that is dripping with warmth
and the knowledge that never again
could you feel this young
and this old.
247 · May 2018
Summer Thunder
DM00 May 2018
Before a summer rain,
there is no black,
no clouds seized with pain.
There is only a gentle rolling,
as the storm sets in.
The sky is yellow,
and the rain only
gradually
begins.

There is the pattering of rain
on leaves, thunder
rumbling its discontent
at the humid air.
And my face in the window,
with my senses
ensnared.
234 · Apr 2019
hoping for summer
DM00 Apr 2019
I imagine
our bodies breathing,
sun streaming,
crickets screaming
(as they do).

You play with my hair
as we breathe in the humid air,
watch shadows of birds that
wallow and dip, and
my forehead meets your lips.

Laughter in my ear
chests pulled near
and you mutter sleepily,
“I wish we could just stay here,”
(forever).
I kind of cheated with the music thing here but this poem is based on a song that I've recently found, "goodnight baby" by Tarune
227 · May 2018
Fresh Air
DM00 May 2018
The same stifled,
recycled air
has been circulating
in this glass box.

My body inhabits it,
never fully exhaling lest
I lose sight
of the things in front of me.
Never fully stretching lest
I break the glass,
and all my work falls apart.

But the cage has dissolved,
until I re-build it again later.
the glass has simply melted away,
until I will come back.
to put pen to paper,
for the last year.

So now I breathe
the tendrils of the night air,
the warm atmosphere
as you play with my hair.
I breathe in the time before me,
and exhale everything
that I’ve been ignoring.
This was written towards the end of a very stressful time in my life when I could just begin to see the finish line
186 · May 2018
To Be Alive
DM00 May 2018
To be alive,
First and foremost, is to love.
If you haven’t loved, you haven’t lived.
You haven’t seen all that this world can give.

It can give, but it will take away.
The cost of living is that you feel.
You feel, and you feel and you feel.
Until your pain seems just unreal.

Someone once said,
“I think, therefore I am”
But that might be wrong,
You know you are,
When you laugh too hard,
When you cry too much,
When you speak too loudly,
When you’re much too proudly
In love.

You can think and feel
and touch and smell,
and do all these things to survive,
but when it’s all too much,
that’s when you know you’re alive.
185 · Apr 2019
April Showers
DM00 Apr 2019
Wash me clean of this feeling,
left over from a frost, half thawed.
I am slow and clunky
tension and heavy
my head is empty, but

there’s so much pressure.
Building up, holding itself up.
Let the pressure break,
water me into serenity.
183 · Apr 2019
reflecting
DM00 Apr 2019
It is Spring,
and you look at us,
take a picture
in the cherry blossom dress,
surrounded by your friends.

Summer nights
when you look at one of us in the bathroom,
grin and laugh at your drunkenness.
We smile back.

The leaves fall and you’re alone,
your breath fogs the glass in front of us
tears sliding down
“I'm dramatic”, you say.
If we could tell you something new,
it would be that we are there for you.

no one has seen you like we have,
checking your mascara
before your dates,
glancing in bathrooms when you feel overwhelmed,
before those college interviews,
sending pictures to the boys you like
that moment right before you cry.
Chin wobbling, lip teetering—

do not be afraid.
We are crying with you.
155 · Jan 2019
once more
DM00 Jan 2019
I keep thinking—
I want to tell you something.
Do I know what?
Of course not.
I already told you everything I had in me.
Instead,
I think I just want
to feel your body against mine.
Just once...
more.
143 · Jan 2019
atrás en el tiempo
DM00 Jan 2019
If I went back 2 years,
what would I find?
If I hadn’t met the people I love now,
if the sun went East,
until it was 700 days ago, 100 weeks before,
Who was I?
The snow falls up into the clouds,
I take back the words I’ve said,
swallow them,
until I never thought them at all.
I un-go
to the places I’d never been before.
10 years ago was a different time,
5 years ago was the beginning
and 2 years ago was a different planet.

Time becomes a sigh in your mouth
and the sound
of a clock ticking.
from two years ago, which is already so different from now
137 · Jul 2018
the first poem in a while
DM00 Jul 2018
The smell of paint,
as my nails dry
and my fingers’ type
is coupled
with
a sun’s glance
and the insects quivering
in their leaves

There is
the dread
of knowing this
is all too soon,
going to end.
128 · Mar 2019
Bare Chest Beat
DM00 Mar 2019
Let me kiss your chest and feel it beat,
something about you makes me weak.
So tell me you want me, I—

Tell me you miss me again instead
of “let’s just take our clothes off.”
But let me kiss your chest and feel it beat.

My chest was bare too, my heart was on my skin,
did you feel it? Intermingled with your warmth.
Something about you makes me weak.

Cross this ocean of earth for me,
if only in your mind, lean toward me.
So tell me you want me, I—
118 · Dec 2018
As If
DM00 Dec 2018
You tell me I’m gorgeous as if I’m allowed to let it mean something.
As if you weren’t across the country.
So I send you pictures of me in good lighting,
as if
that could make you forget:
you’re surrounded by pretty girls.

And we make plans
“let’s do this again”
as if I were ignorant
to the fact that
my best friend liked you—
but it’s not as if
I care, right?

I threw care out the window
when you closed the blinds,
let me run my fingers
through your dark, delicious hair,
when you let your shirt
just slide off,
as if
it were the most natural thing
I could want.
from a while ago but finally felt good enough about it to upload.
109 · Apr 2020
dawn
DM00 Apr 2020
pale light steeps,
hardening the sweat on my back
in creeps relief
but you don't know that.

one dawn, one day,
the sun won't bring the hope of something new.
One day,
I won't search for it, the morning dew
making my shoes wet.

One day,
the sun will stream in.
and it'll be just another morning.

— The End —