Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Meagan Olsen Dec 2013
Purify, cleanse, relax,
Repeat.
Scrub your skin
To wash the evil off
Meagan Olsen Jul 2012
I am a Nomad,
Lone traveler on paved streets,
I feel the wind whip my hair,
The sweet scent of exhaust that pervades the air,
The sense of people roaming about me
in short clipped thought
The earth is turning beneath my feet
I feel the expansion of the universe
the sinking clarity of ecological structures
communities
galaxies,
the universe.
This is my life, this is my world
i feel the architecture as our worlds coalesce together
ad infinitum
humanity at its greatest and worst
is you and I
together and separate
near and far.
But yet,
I am a Nomad
Lone traveler on paved streets
I will walk
see
feel
and think
for no one is like me.
Meagan Olsen Jul 2012
I hate everything about you
and yet,
I still love you.
You were supposed to be perfect
and life was going to follow a master plan
White picket fence
You remember that dream?
We used to talk about the possibilities
but one possibility
we never discussed
was a life where you were not in it
Where I lived in my solitude
and you were gone
I remember hating myself for thinking such thoughts
You were my first
You're touch was like magic
wild fire across my heart
And now
A dead tree branch.
Devoid of life
And my love is as dead.
**** this love
it wasn't perfect anyways
Meagan Olsen Jul 2012
Her skin crawls
Lucidity
Crystal clear night
I see through your skin
Taunt with self-deceptiveness
Cracks
Cracks
Keep bursting up
Boils and boils are in your makeup
I want to rip those cracks
Destroy this faery tale
I want to eat your soul
Whispering shallow thing it is
Your essence is a disgusting thing
Warped and bent
Withering between my fingers I grasp it
I want to burn it
Watch those pretty colors arise
From the blackened mass I hold
Meagan Olsen Jul 2012
Oh, beautiful, tortured soul,
the messages you speak
impair my heart
Your age old wisdom
sweeps into my head
giving me consciousness.
My beautiful tortured soul,
why don't you come
out of that
silver cage?
Come frolic freely
in my heart's meadows,
my minds laboratories.
Come sit with me
on a bench
and tell me all that hurts you.
Beautiful tortured soul,
please let it all out.
My mind and heart
cannot live
without you.

— The End —