I shouldn't miss you but I do
It’s too late
I miss all the ways you used to pull me in
Windows down, music blaring
The best of us
I was your best friend
Those where the best days
I shouldn't miss you but I do
And it’s too late
As I sit here looking out
At the cold winters rain
I can’t get your voice and your laugh out of my head
My mind can’t think straight
Your green eyes seared into my brain
You skin and hands, I loved them
Because I loved you
You said id always be your best friend
Shows how naive I was to believe you
I shouldn't miss you but I am
I was a disaster abandoned
I wasn't sure I would live
It’s been three years now
I’m pretty sure I got over you
But why is it so hard to not remember
All of the things we did
Places we’d been
I wish I could wipe you out of my memory
Because that’s what you did with me
Any one could see
Only if they knew the difference
Of how you used to be
When I was with you.
I miss the way we’d laugh
Cry and carry on about how are parents are so bad
Drive around because we had nothing better to do
But that was fine because
We had fun no matter what we would do
So I hope you miss the smile on my face
They way id play with your hair when you where tired
On a rainy day
I hope you miss the things I would say
“I love you!”
And how we thought
Forever and Always
No one would have thought it would end at all
Because of how we used play
Like children, I was in love
But never knew it
Till it was too late
As I lay here with you
I can't help but stare.
Your beauty hypnotises me.
This feeling I get isn't fair.
You drive me crazy
With your royal SUV, have Mercy.
You're a badass with your shades on,
Making me think, what do you see in me?
All I want is to have you in my arms.
Cuddling under the covers, happy and warm.
To look into your sparkling blue eyes.
My butterflies have formed a swarm.
Sometimes I dream,
About you and me.
To wake up next to you daily.
I dream of how happy we would be.
But this is reality.
Not everything is how you want it to be.
Even with your shades on,
Baby, you are all I can see.
I don't know if I'm more afraid of the future or the past.
I don't capitalize "I" if I'm feeling low.
When I call myself the ocean,
it means I'm crying.
Half my phrases are made up
about things I see
but don't understand.
I'm a jungle-gym.
Thoughts climb me
pull out my hair
Nestle in my ear drum
Sing until my fair skin
shines in snow.
I don't know why you still matter.
Why gravity hasn't taken you
smashed you on the side of its bowl
served you to your mother.
I don't know why
I still know what your door
sounds like when its opened
or slammed shut.
I'm scared because I couldn't handle it last year.
I'm scared because
the Christmas tree in the school's court yard
looks just like the one from my hospital window
I'm scared that you're dying.
I'm scared that I lost so many
that I dyed my hair purple
and yet you still don't see me.
I'm scared because September
lives in Seattle
and he's the only one okay with
me not shaving my legs.
it feels as though
everything is miles away
I've never been a runner
and I don't know how to drive a car
I don't know how I'll get there.
I'm afraid of trust.
I'm afraid to trust myself.
What if tall windows aren't enough?
Will the library be big enough to hide in?
Will my favorite color stay green?
What if I lose myself?
What if I don't go to India?
May 20th, 2013
Water falls down around me drenching everything. Spraying my back as it's turned up from the ground by the tires of my bike. They race across the pavement as fast as my legs pump. Sweat drips down my face. It's promptly washed away by the rain hailing in on me. Cars zip by. Passing by, leaving pockets of dryness in their wake. Heat curls off my skin, banished by the cool wind threatening to rip off my hat. Wind outmatched by the racing of my heart. The heaving of my lungs. The pumping of my blood. My legs spin faster as I push harder and harder. I have nowhere to go. I only focus on my exertion. My energy. I only focus on the going. The destination is lost in the drive. I push harder still. Then I get there. The world crashed up from behind me. Suddenly catching up. The rain drumming down. The dizziness in my head. My legs shake as I step off my bike. I'm home.
There is a voice inside me, she is the younger version of me.
And she is terrified of the person I am becoming.
She is knocking on my nerves and rattling my bones.
She's that tiny voice trying to eliminate the demonic voiced.
"I want out" she screams "this is not who I want to become".
I am not a girl controlled by numbers.
Stop counting calories and restricting.
Don't pick up that blade, it won't save you.
He loves you idiot! Why can't you see that?
You're sitting in you room pushing everyone away.
Once they leave for good it will drive you instance.
You think you're crazy now, just watch as the time goes by.
It will eat at your conscience, I promise you'll hate yourself more.
Why did you stop doing the things you love?
Who are you?
This is not the girl who frolicked in the meadows and embraced the sunlight.
You are dark, lifeless, and cruel. I would say you're better off dead but that girl is still there.
Hidden beneath all of the addictions, medication, and diseases.
Go ahead and list off all of the things wrong with you.
4. Eating Disorder
Yes, you have them but that isn't who you are.
The disease can only kill you once you become it.
Find yourself, find me, find this girl you only have so much time.
Wake up in the morning,
sleeping at night,
how it all
feels so right.
To feel the passion
makes us get up
and drive all the way.
To and forth,
the end and back,
how we wish
It could be like that.
But world collide
and we start to stray,
so we must
find a way.
Cause everything in the morning,
and at night,
Peter A. Murnieks
Inspired from waking up to a peaceful morning
A B.S.Hunter's view on poor people
I work up to 60/70 hours per week and screw around on F.B & Craigslist. We had weeks of debating the poor and how some leech off the state. Had people hollering leech to all poor people even the ones in cities like Detroit where they said blacks love living on welfare and they uneducated and they come from the planet ghetto jungle bunny. Not my words but they exist in my city with population 15 thousand. Poster on Craigslist challenged community to playact we were broke,
contact dhs and get info on how much a poor person with number of your own household gets per month along with food stamps.
To make it seem real, I took out the exact amount I would get if I was a poor person. Gave possession of check books and cash and my own house key to my dad and told him what i was doing. He said good luck son you wont make it on state aid. It was cheating but I did keep my car cause no way in hell am I waiting hours for a bus and walking on busy S. Airport and streets such as Garfield is dangerous. I rode that bus when my car was getting new tires and a tune up and it smelled bad like sweat funk.
Funds are put on a bridge card, that's cash aid and food stamps here in Michigan. I thought with this small amount of cash how in the hell will i survive?
I discovered pretty damned fast I could not afford rent and best I could afford was a nasty room in a place in downtown are where poor people rent rooms and no one should be living in. I wouldn't let my dog stay there and I felt like I should be packing a gun for protection. No minorities but whites who are down on their luck. Could not afford the small deposit even for that nasty dump. I cheated and bunked with a friend. That place is what you wont see come film festival or cherry festival time.
Forget having enough to buy healthy foods. I could afford bread and high carb fattening shit that nobody should have to live off. If I was poor I could not afford fresh produce I'd be eating cheap shit I could afford and if I had kids it would be far worse off.
I quit after a few days and would be hating life if I was poor.
Northern Michigan craigslist posters are notorious for flagging truth.
They flag and remove what they don't want to see on forum when it
don't agree with ass backward views of our good citizens.
They run people off with ignorance and now some like me have come here
and now see some of the ignorant have followed and joined this site posing as poets.
Found this when I went to site from a person claiming to be on vacation in Florida
but keeps posting and posting on our Forum. Poster now claims he is in Gaylord
that "drooling halfwit" always gives this one who changes locations away.
" red cross (gaylord)
Let me get this straight,you can afford the internet and a car but too poor to buy gas??Bet you wish that fake boycott worked stupid.You drive around looking for free handouts so you can drive around.This story is such bullshit,just like you.Get a job lazy drooling halfwit.
Posters originally posted months ago but keeps renewing same post. This posted after someone was refused gas by the red cross while red cross volunteers sat there eating their lunch. Person was driving around on fumes. You try telling this idiot people down don't stay broke forever and you get posts like this one from idiots.
I did not rely on hear say, I made calls to red cross. Red cross does not provide gas money to walk ins and they provide help in unexpected disasters BUT not to poor people already homeless. They did build a luxury hotel on property bought using donations but I can't tell you why they built it.
- it's not healthy for my heart to run miles on a few drops of water.
2. you make my mind and body curious.
3. my eyes are sleepless from unanswered questions.
4. i love incorrectly.
5. i want to build my home in the unsurveyed land of your heart.
6. i can't crown an adjective with your name.
7. you are too blind to see the effects of your spell.
8. confusion and comfort don't seem as different anymore.
9. i don't know if i'm just lonely.
10. you simultaneously incite my captivation and confusion.
11. you can stifle my anger.
12. i miss something that was never mine.
13. you take me out of the present.
14. you are a stain that I cannot remove.
15. i'm surprised that I still trip for you when we cross paths.
16. i poured my heart out to you, i'm unsure if you accepted it.
17. my mother says she adores you.
18. since you give me no answer, my imagination makes answers for you.
19. i fear that you are turning into my tattered safety blanket.
20. you are running within every inch of my skin.
21. you called me lovely.
22. i take things personally nowadays.
23. i wear my heart on two sleeves because it has made a space for you.
24. i am wandering around an abandoned refugee camp for my sustenance.
It's probably too late to write to you,
And I'm probably too old to be writing to you anyway,
But those two things aren't stopping me...
I usually love the Christmas season.
The snow gallantly falls to the ground,
Icicles hang from the frozen trees and threaten to fall any moment,
Christmas music is blaring from every single radio station on the air,
Houses on the street are all decked out in sensible, yet dazzling, lights that accentuate every little feature of the house.
People are nicer...
Everyone is in a much better mood.
The Christmas season is supposedly the best season of the year.
Apparently, you bring people joy.
Now, I don't want to burden you with questions...
I don't really care about the mechanics behind your ostracized, flying deer that have enchanted the world.
I don't really care why you wear a red suit.
I don't really care what your wife's name is.
I don't even care about how you can possibly deliver presents to millions of children all throughout the world...
I just want to know why you have forgotten me.
Why is my holiday season full of dread, procrastination, and fear
Instead of joy, peace, and love?
Why does every other boy and girl get to love every minute from now until Christmas?
Did you just forget me?
Did your reindeer just skip over my house?
Did I not show up on your radar?
All of these things make me wonder if you're even real...
If you are real,
Then my parents wouldn't have neglected me left and right.
People would remember that I am not my sister.
I would have the drive to wake up in the morning.
I would actually want to accomplish daily tasks...
I'm not sure if you're real or not,
But I'm still going to ask for something for Christmas...
I don't want anything you can wrap,
Nor do I want any super expensive item...
I just want to find love.
Because right now,
The two of us are playing hide and seek,
And Love is kicking my butt...
So if you do exist, Santa,
Then please, please, please,
Grant my Christmas wish.
love like just know time feel way pain world heart think eyes day oh night away things words say need left thoughts mind life sun want good inside body lost new true damn light make head beautiful stop free hands right small hard loves today little fuck morning thought sweet moment times bed tell dreams long white truth thing song really skin slowly start deep woods silence lies look better lay sleep realize fall sky memories far gone green breath held room dark doesn't hold dream run thank end past dead open begin knew tears yeah hear cause air blood earth self beauty real days finally care big cool north 10w turn walk lips kiss dawn remember sound making hair fingers felt door water woman black outside large she's let's tiny window face bit speak play slow god teeth smell wish heard rain tired silver great bring wants low there's won't soul got tongue live arms red house close girl years letting note music universe man soon clean trees wood thinks post stolen you've gray clouds home ones hot soft wet hate desire warm trying mom comes longer sea thinking darkness hand shore leaves broken glow fool second knows rock read cold stare feels took father sing bag release crazy stone mouth wake forever dust watch came wanted stand help use place needs brings suppose believe laugh shit seen having ways leave weight perfect stars drive miss higher high ocean feeling memory makes present view page bear wash loss snow hell aware constant magic