Mar 5

'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.'...


#love   #lost   #bullshit  
and still managed to make me feel like bullshit
Oct 30, 2014

your stories are as dumb
as me falling in love with you.
you made me the most sought out princess
and still managed to make me feel like bullshit

#love   #pain   #bullshit   #fuck   #you  
I may be young, but I know what bullshit is
Chalsey Wilder
Chalsey Wilder
Jul 12, 2014

I may be young, but I know what bullshit is
I know what it looks like
I know what it sounds like
And I know what it smells like

Hm cx
I'm not to young to know what bullshit is and how to define it.
Oct 15, 2014

Two A.M.

#lies   #bullshit   #hurt   #fuckyou   #missyou   #loveyou   #comeback   #twoam   #goaway   #hateyou  
sarah elizabeth
sarah elizabeth
Oct 13, 2014

no one takes you seriously anymore.
you're just a college student.
you are still young.
you are still learning.
you have not been fully brainwashed,

you have to get a good job!
you have to make enough money!
you don't want to be starving, do you?
then go to college.

go to college
cause that will fix all your problems.
one piece of paper and
200,000 dollars of debt later.
welcome to college.

welcome to college!
where you'll try hard to get good grades
and be up all night.
you will never know a good night's rest
for the next 4 years.

more anxiety than high school.
more work than high school.
more people than high school.
more bull shit than high school.

liberal arts education is supposed to be great!
but what if you hate science and math
and you just want to write?
I hate my classes.

I hate analyzing books.
I hate analyzing movies.
I hate writing essays.
I hate talking.

I have a C+ in one class
because I never talk.
I hate talking.
I hate talking.

when I get my degree will it be different?
will I be different?
will my life change forever?
will I finally be the member of society
that society wants me to be?

#anxiety   #bullshit   #stress   #writing   #free   #college  
paper boats
paper boats
May 6, 2014

Did you know,
Cigarettes taste like instant coffee,
The kind I drink at night,
When the dark keeps me awake.

And poetry feels like salvation,
Specially when it doesn't rhyme.

That headaches are the best thing that can happen to you,
When you're awake.

And sleep is a just a lie life tells you.
But you believe it,

Because it's the best fucking lie you'll ever hear.

I used to believe in only the things which made sense,
but beauty doesn't lie in the eyes of the beholder,
It lies in it's extraction from the bullshit.
#lies   #sleep   #bullshit   #beauty   #poems   #nothing   #morals   #nonsense  
ly can not with the hopelessly romantic bullshit that I continuously subject myself to
Jul 26, 2014

I simply can not with the hopelessly romantic bullshit that I continuously subject myself to
It incessantly picks at the self professed pragmatism that I so pride myself with
It eats away at the wall of, "I am strong Black woman who don't need no man"
It jeers at the tub of vaseline by my bed and the smell of pussy on my fingers
It claws at the parts of my identity who refuses to lose weight or to conform to some caricature of who I refuse to be

It makes my entire ass tired

I can not shake this hopelessly romantic bullshit feeling in the pit of my stomach that seeks to undermine my accomplishments by making me feel less than for lacking a partner

Unless your are going to pay my bills hopelessly romantic bullshit feeling
I need you get the the fuck out
And get the fuck on

Because, denial worked for me yesterday so it damn well better work today

We meet
in Spring,
but began in
the Fall.

Looking out
the window
of your car
I imagined running
my fingers over
cornfields like pages
of a book.

Watching the sunset
in the rearview mirror
as we moved forward
together, needing
two of my hands to
touch just one of yours.

Followed by 120 days
of realizing we both love
saltine crackers and drool
when we sleep really well.

You loved listening
to my heartbeat and telling
me how it sounded and
when I couldn’t sleep  
you’d pull my head to
your chest and tell me
to listen to yours.

120 days of you guessing
my favorite flower,
complementing my favorite cardigan,
picking my favorite book off the shelf
and reading to me, and attempting to tie
my hair in a ponytail or a bun.

And you touched like
my skin was ice and
your hands skates,
but that turned into you
grasping at me like
the room is flames
and my body oxygen.

On the 120th night
you crawled into my bed,
I could taste the alcohol
on your mouth when you
told me you loved me
and I became addicted
to the taste.

After a week
I was Rory and you Dean
and with that began
our 39-day happy hour.

Until the 159th night
when you took back
that you loved me and
I knew I never could again.
My skin regressed
back to ice and the next
45 days was our last call,
numb to it all.

On the 204th day
you were Summer and
I was Tom eating pancakes
in a diner.
All I did was stare
at the buttons on
your shirt and think
about the time we
saw the moon and you
asked for me to write a
poem but little did you
know I have been this
whole time:

       Iris Moon
       Marble Moon
       Missed Moon
       Monday Blues
       Button Moon
      Spring Cleaning.

And never moonstruck.

We lasted 12 more days
and when we ended my first
thoughts were that now I can:
cut my hair
count again
and write again.

Carrie Ross
Carrie Ross
Dec 13, 2011

doesn't really matter.

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