BrokenAndLostSoul
Hi! I'm a sophmore at a high school for performing arts. If you want to talk poetry, lets talk! / / “I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.” -Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
Leave me for good.
Two years and you say you'll come back.
I can't wait two years for a prince that will never come.
Can't someone hold me and comfort me?
I want nothing more than to be wrapped in someones arms.
I want nothing more than to be loved by someone who won't leave.
It's all too much to ask.
Being human is to be greedy.
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 9:22 PM UTC
Screaming soundless screams
The only things that's real
is what you cannot see
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 7:24 PM UTC
You are slowly losing yourself,
But you don't see it,
I don't want to watch you fall apart,
But you just won't listen,
Every day it gets worse,
You won't let me help you,
Blocking me out,
When you realise,
I'll be gone.
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 7:03 PM UTC
I placed the roses you gave me
in a vase on my bedside
unaware of the pistol
you placed in my mouth
until I pricked my tongue
on a thorn.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 12:07 PM UTC
I can't stand it a second longer.
I am supposed to love you.
So why are we fighting?
I am willing to stop.
I am willing to give up my argument.
I will pull the white flag.
Just please don't say goodbye.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 12:04 PM UTC
Break my heart
Shatter my bones
And blow away the ashes
Then hug her
Smile with her
Laugh with her
Do you not remember?
Remember the promise you made me
Your promise to fix me
You've seen me at my best
At my worst
You know what this does to me
And yet you still do it.
I noticed your hugs getting shorter
The distance growing larger
We've grown apart
Do you no longer mean it?
Do your I love yous
And your I think you're beautifuls
Do they mean nothing to you?
Because I still mean it.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 12:00 PM UTC
compilations of cold coffee cups,
dancing about in my candle-stained room
to French music from the 50's, today,
contrasting with the cacophony of construction
four stories beneath, below,
the day is blush.
rain as rosewater, fossilizes into flakes on the cheekbones, the lashes.
a quick reading of Kerouac reminds one to
believe in the 'holy contour of life,' whatever 'holy' means,
if it exists at all,
whether America is overrated,
whether i rather play in puddles of Scotland
or some foreign place,
how delightful it sounds, as Edith Piaf's
voice trances my loveless memory.
i'm cold. but we have to be.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 11:54 AM UTC
You cannot conceive,
The emotions weaved in me.
Separated yet entwined.
All unconfined.
I am never me,
I am always she.
"Be yourself" they say.
But I am like a cabaret.
Full of other girls,
But none of them me.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 11:40 AM UTC
There is a place known to some called the Haunted House.
Please, fear this place.
You aren't safe there, you're weaker.
Run run run.
Please don't stop.
Please don't look back.
Run run run.
Escape the Haunted House.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 11:36 AM UTC