fuck like just hate life times coffee regret time better somebody drugs world heart thing fucking need know home little hitler type gone break trying gave morning way shit chasing birth mean war laugh make look beer problems untitled scream different hiding stay putting burnt number sea looking waves good pain cunts dew man town passion demise johnson girls lotion emotion head perfect bullshit bed far interested spirit pure anchor potion words hope boat missing streets phlebus train free red inside things wake lungs holy colors insert away set aren't poem soul poets self god diatribes nights politics forests demands
It's not about me and I'm not trying to make it that way
But I can't shake the feeling that I could have saved you but didn't
That I didn't try hard enough to save you from the substances
That you use as a crutch to walk over the eggshells that makeup your life
The broked shards or your glass heart
Transparent and true
And when you come down there is no where to hide
I see you
I see you truthfully and you can't run away from that
I'll be your crutch
Turn away from the bottle
Lean on me
Unlike your product
I'll never let you down
Where are the men
Those that stand up and admit their sin
Hiding behind leaves
Where are the men who are faithful those that are not cheaters
The ones that care more about growth in God than sneakers
Where are the men that have not been conditioned
Rape by their kin now they grown and switching
Oh its deep like a giant squid swimming
Where are the men that understand that there wounds need healing
The men that do right dictated by the direction of the Holy Spirit not there feelings
Where are the men that get married and stay
Those that raise there families mightily like Christ rising from the dead
The men that make decisions with their heads
And not the one between their legs
Where are the men who don't need kegs
Trying to balance life with crutches and wooden pegs
Where are the men that know what manhood is
The men that don't have multiple baby mother's and random kids..
Where are the men?
I look in the mirror and see one
The others are my friends
There are other real men that exist
Many grown boys
Like 17 year olds that look 25 but are kids
I love you so much.
Too much...that it hurts.
And sleepless nights like these, makes me want you more.
My love for you can stretch throughout the skies, beyond the galaxy, and if it's possible...even through the gates of heaven.
It's already cliché of me to say it.
But I'm trying my best to describe how I feel for you.
Words can't describe how I feel.
It's so hard for me to explain,I just love you.
I love you so much that I even surprised myself.
Each day when I'm with you, I question myself...
"Do I really love you? Or is this just a phase?"
Your smile, how monotone you are, your sarcastic personality, and how humorous you are...tenders my heart.
Your hugs are so warm.
Your kisses are absolutely breathtaking.
you've changed my thoughts about love.
I used to see couples as fools of society,
now you've turned me into one:A fool.
You are so beautiful.
You are divine.
And I can't believe that you are mine.
I've tried to get over you.
But you are like a wound that can never be healed.
And I love you even more that you fight back;
each time I try to push you away.
I push you away because I'm horrible.
I feel that I don't deserve you.
You are too good for me, my angel.
But one thing that you can never understand...
is how much I love you so.
Some things in life cannot be done.
No matter if you tried once?twice? Or maybe for the hundredth time.
And within those tries,
Within that stress?
My mind keeps trying and trying to push the conception of happiness.
And that's just a mistake that I'm making so far: trying.
Let myself free and flow within my seconds, my minutes, my hours, my days, my months, my life.
That should be the solution right?
Trying to catch happiness, is like trying to catch a fragile butterfly with your bare hands.
You'll just kill it.
Such as the feelings I have for you.
Each time you smile, it kills me.
Frowning is all that I have to give to you.
You were a complicated art that I just wanted to finish sculpting.
But I guess our relationship was too weak to mold together.
I'm sorry. I'll admit it.
I gave up.
And let people persuade me not to,
but no doubt, can I change my mind.
Words are easily spoken.
But it's the meaning that counts.
And you may say you love me.
But how could you love such a complicated, pitiful person?
Are you sure you do? Or can it really be just out of pity?
And look at me once again,
tell me if you really do so.
Or did you choose me because I was easy?
Only pathetic fools are the easiest.
And I'm not.
And you hurt me.
And this, cannot be explained. Because I'm the only person who can understand.
And this angers me.
Because we, and I, are an unfinished business.
Thinspiration kills girls like me;
ACTUAL girls who struggles to GAIN weight.
Proteins, fatty food, healthy food, whatever food,
Because it's not good.
It doesn't work.
All it does is ruin my mood.
With how society does not accept me.
Who thinks I need help.
Who doesn't know, that it's just in my genes.
I've been thin since I was a little girl.
I've been thin since forever.
And some may say that it's better than being considered overweight.
It makes no difference at all if people make false accusation,
If people make dumb assumptions, due to how the media is degrading their mentality.
Use common sense. Does it even exist?
Because girls like me, still exist.
I love food.
I love to eat.
But I just struggle to gain atleast a pound or two.
It may be a dream to some girls, but it is a nightmare for me.
Hoping, in the future that my metabolism would slow down,
such as I have wished, even way back in middle school.
It's overrated to say that we're all beautiful,
I know we are. But do we actually mean it?
Because each day,
random strangers stick their noses in my life,
trying to change how I live, how I "eat", how I need to eat.
So stop with the assumptions,
we're all corrupt.
And each night,
I pray that tomorrow, things would change.
We need to change. We're just a bunch of snoopy assholes.
Stop focusing on others. Stop desiring others. Focus and desire YOURSELF.
You are a tragedy.
As I sit here with despair,
As I sit here with regrets.
All I could think about is you.
How horrendous you are,
How much of a fool you pulled out on me.
Playing tricks like how a magician would.
And here I am, sitting, like a beaten doll,
thinking of how we ever could...be us?
Fantasizing such a silly thing,
Thinking and thinking each day,
"How can I get better for you?"
Clear as crystal water,
your treatment reveals that I would never be good enough for you.
No beauty you see, No radiance, No heart, No warmth.
I see myself as a beast,
no need to tell me that I am the least.
If I am, stop trying to find me,
like I am a valuable possession you have just lost.
You abusive cynical man.
A careless thief who stole my heart,
who just ended up breaking it.
A collector who realized I was not valuable enough to keep.
A vendor who sold me for cheap.
Lies! Lies! Lies!
Is all I feel and see with your touch and actions.
Each time I see your face...
Who could care less about me.
Who couldn't take care of anyone, honestly.
And this is why I think, you're a tragedy.
Curb-stomping pumpkins, and smashing jack o'lanterns
Fall's my favorite season but shit October's doggie days for me
Stagnant rivers, and pockets full of leaves
I try to run a little faster just to escape these things catching up to me
Big furrys and little monsters at my knees
I need to feed on something sweet
So give me your neck girl,
I need your flesh, give me your blood, your best
Give me your glitter, your neon breasts
Oh, get me the hell out of this monsters nest
Adrenaline pumped into me, I feel every blood platelet intimately rushing through me.
Radioactively synthesized, authenticity arise
Don't wait on me babe, I'm just trying to synchronize
Worry about me, and I'll let the tension build
Till I get the attention fill I need, babe.
Raid my mind with all your battleships and detremental cerebral
Break me down until you find something worth keeping
I've bartered the black market selling love for lust, and my dreams for less
I barter for pleasures, but I always want more
I've lived a shallow life, assured
I've become a monster, and a whore, all while trying be something
So much more
Now I follow with the beasts boohoo
It's freezing in your bedroom
And I just wanna dream this bright day
straight into its darker face
I'm all wrapped up in your limbs
But I'm still shaking
You've got your hands on my thighs
I wish I could feel the warm
blood that drips all down the insides of them
But I'm ignoring every
sign that you slip in through my lips
You're pleading for my
attention at the climax of your affection
You keep digging your
nails into my shoulder blades
I know what you're thinking
Maybe a little pain will bring
my eyes up to meet yours
But I'm still looking down at your hips
And I could feel you starting to melt
Into the empty stream of my apathy
You're whispering every poetic word
you ever thought you heard straight
into my ear drums
I'm still not listening
An other night home alone
Lying next to each other
But hardly together
I shut the lights out an hour ago
But your skins still crawling
You're nestling me in the bend of your elbows
But I'm just trying to sleep
I wanna pray to your eyelashes every night
Like you do to mine
But I just don't believe in you
I don't believe in anything
And I'll still kneel for you
But that doesn't mean anything
It's all still so much nothing
erasure poems write me from prison. I read them aloud in front of the mirror in my mother’s bathroom. a terrible mirror. I don’t know how my mother does it. she must have a good idea how she really looks.
I can’t tell if I’ve been thinking of my father all the time or if I’ve become lax in my selection. I am trying to reach him about the car. on paper, it’s totaled. the dog in the backseat surprised me. very solemnly I was informed the dog seemed pretty beat up before.
my brother says it’s part of his condition that he can only explain himself from the waist down. he says he feels horrible in the back of his head and wants me to take a look. he says I don’t know what darkness is. before I can play doctor he remembers he has a story he wants me to write. the outline of the story is off site. in the opening scene brother recalls that a young man is blowing dust from a human skull made of plastic because it’s all the narrator can afford.