The blowing wind tells you to be calm...
It tells you to be generous with the hard work...
And tells you to be strong all the way...
crisp from the core
cut in half and a bore.
I want some more sand!
I'm tired of cement beneath
the slabs of meat I call feet,
the movement doesn't beat
it fuels it.
on my way uphill, the stretch
is between my thighs. Sweat!
this weather is no good for fancy clothes,
I've got pit stains up these hills.
I'd say I'm looking on the bright side, but
it's more of a stare, or perhaps it's the light
that's stalking me, because I can't seem to
this soul is melting through this flesh which
can't let go of winters breath, what once was
afraid to freeze to death wants nothing more
than a cloud or four, to shade their skin from
the heat begins.
Summer is no enemy,
Winter is no friend,
all I want is Fall again!
The spring is here,
my nose is nose,
the seeping of color shall spread
down and all places around,
it'll push and shove as
my body is covered
in the guilt of not taking
the time to properly supply myself
with sun screen.
Take my hand
Hold it tight
Things will be alright
I am scared
You were right
Always were in sight
Quick as day
Soon this view
Will fade away
I'll be alone
My price to pay
Far from home
Nothing to say
Cost of breath
Weight of soul
A world beyond
My own control
A once clear mind
Too quickly full
Take my hand
Guide me through
Help me learn
What to do
My growing up
I pray I'll be
As brave as you
Day 9 of my A Poem A Day project. Written 5/22/2013.
You probably understand. Or maybe you don't, after all. Either way, it is jumping around inside me and if I don't let it out soon all my carbonation will fizz up and run over the side of my glass and I don't want to waste all that sweetness.
I want to kiss you underwater.
I want that kiss to be the only thing keeping us alive. Down there we are foreigners, aliens. Grasping, I want to feel your flesh in stark contrast to the smooth wetness all around me, like a secret.
All that life where we cannot live. Exotic, forbidden, so lovely. I am sick with love.
nah, Im not cold
Im just numb from all these lies
and all these fucking guys.
But Thank you
Now I can kiss you
and not miss you
I can fuck you
and yet touch you
I have to say, it feels kinda great not giving a fuck per se
So dont blame me for being a "cold bitch",
I just learned how to be a chick with a dick.
Strange, they call me
Strange I stay
Strangeness from which I don't stray
Until strange is my norm each day
True love's loving me this way
Day's a bore?
Well there's no need
Come along, be strange with me!
Give laughter in times of crying
To the world, let this be my offering
Strange, they call me
That's just fine
Just means there's depth within my mind
Amongst the spares, I'm a rare find
Strangeness being one of a kind
Strange, they say
It's plain to see
Strange people litter history
We've been, we are, and probably will be
Why not come be strange with me
I can still feel your memories crawling,
up and over the creases in my skin,
collecting my scars like leaves—
I think they found a way to burrow through my pores.
Sometimes I can feel them gnawing away at that soft grey thing we call a brain,
until I can't remember the strange order of those letters we call our names.
So you see,
it wan't my fault—
when you asked me the time I told you I loved you.
I was never any good at writing love poems, darling—
in the same way I was never any good at loving the right things.
Like a kid with 26 cavities loves candy,
each time you bit my neck I fell in love with the bruises.
Sometimes I still press my fingers against my collarbones
trying to re-create your violet imprints.
Say my name one more time.
It always sounded scarlet on your tongue.
Cast your fishhook words at my shins—
until I can feel the syllables sinking through my skin—
until I can feel myself limping forward again.
they call me unstable,
like a half-brokes table.
And I keep trying to slip things under the broken leg
but nothing seems to hold me up.
It's been 7 months and I still shake each times someone tries to lean on me—
I used to be someone people could lean on.
Summer is coming fast and i'm still to faded from the winter to greet it with open arms.
I've fallen in love with the cold and I'm not ready for the too-bright sun to kiss my pale shoulders.
I miss the overcast days—
I used to believe you loved me too—
It's 6:26 am and I'm still thinking of you.
i have spent the last 3 hours
crying a river of glass
ripping my soul apart
as if it was paper.
you poked each shred of
pride i had left.
you pinned them into holes
and dug deeper into my lungs.
You swallow the only love i had left
from the debris in my chest,
and listen to the thumping of my heart beat.
You broke into my patrolled doors,
you breathed your white lies into heavy smoke
underneath my cheek.
You shot bullets of words
roaming inside my stomach
and kissed the soft lines of my lips.
You touched every single part of me,
from neck to the ankles of my legs.
I loved every minute you spent
hushing your cruel scent to my sleeves
I hated the way your eyes would roll
at my poetry,
You stole every bit of the lovely roses
i had painted inside my body,
you gave them to another.
you drowned inside my eyes
now you swim along the
waves of my arms.
"thank you, thank you
for loving me.
for i have not loved you."
Since I don't know if we'll ever meet again-
that we'll try to stay together
"I'll tell you someday."
Laughing and sticking your tongue out,
you were the most beautiful then.
When is that someday?
A link in the far distant future;
without any promise
Your back is growing fainter,
it's almost transparent now.
The fact that no matter how long my fingers were;
How much I grew;
How much I learned;
How much I matured-
that I could still not reach or touch you
or your standard;
I could do nothing
but slump to the floor,
Admit painful defeat-
The one who ran away-
It was no lie,
For I am
the true deceiver.
I say to the plaster
I just sit there
in a wooden, peeling
The Characters that I wrote then-
They don't dance for me anymore.
"Is that so?"
The poems that I scribbled-
on a napkin at a fast food restaurant,
Where are they now?
My memories and limits-
Are they gone?
"Why don't you figure out yourself?
Isn't the person,
who knows you best-
My light was gone.
My head wasn't thinking straight.
I let go.
What kind of excuses are these?
For being a coward,
For being a shallow person
who didn't see the world-
Sorry doesn't even take up half of it.
The beginning of the end,
when does that time come?
The promise that our naïve selves made together
You believed in those words.
For crushing your morals,
For mocking them,
For taking away your innocence-
I was upstairs doing science
I came down for a break
I had sixty seconds to eat a snack
So I fixed myself a shake.
I sipped for fifteen minutes
Then my mother said, "Alright.
It's time to go upstairs to work
or we're gonna have a fight
I looked up at the clock
and I said to mom, "Already?
I still have fifty seconds left
and I still want some spaghetti."
I went to my computer and
I played a fishing game.
I played for twenty minutes
till my mom called out my name
"It's time to go upstairs, my dear!
The day is near its end!"
I still had forty seconds, though
and emails left to send
I sat down on the piano bench
and played the whole book through.
My birds began to chirp and tweet
I clapped my hands and stomped my feet.
My mom began to scream and shout
"Get up, go work, or you'll be out!"
"I only played six songs you know!
I've thirty seconds left to go!"
I opened the door
and stepped quickly outside
I searched for ten minutes
for a good place to hide.
I heard some rustling
very nearby and
a short moment later,
my mom cried out, "WHY??"
"You're deliberately wasting!
Go on! Do your school!
You're driving me crazy!
I'm starting to drool!"
"Please mom, come on!
I thought you were smart.
I've got twenty seconds,
I think I'll do art!"
I got out my pencils,
crayons and paint
I scribbled on paper.
My mom, she felt faint.
"You're getting me mad!
My hair's turning grey!
My skin's turning purple!"
She started to say.
She collapsed on the floor
and screamed bloody murder.
I think everyone in the world
could have heard her.
"Why aren't you working?
I really don't know!
Waiting for you is like
watching grass grow!"
My painting of oranges,
roses and pears,
was super fantastic
but mom didn't care.
I cleaned up the brushes
and rinsed out my hair.
And all this I did
with ten seconds to spare!
I looked out the window,
the sky was pitch black.
The day, it was over,
there's no turning back.
My science, unfinished,
my math stayed undone.
My mother lay limp,
but at least I had fun!