At 3 am
I have to wonder
Whether these are butterflies or bats in my stomach,
Keeping me awake,
The night is silent but my mind is racing.
All I wanted was to be
alone.
At 3 am
I have to wonder
Whether these thoughts that chew away at my brain,
Keeping me awake,
Are self destructive or self protective.
All I wanted was to be
alone.
At 3 am
I have to wonder
Whether these violent emotions, wildly swinging,
Keeping me awake,
Are out of my control or within my means.
All I wanted was to be
alone.
...
At 4 am
I have to wonder
Whether the thought of me
Kept you awake
And how I would give anything to be beside you
And not
alone.
Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 3:27 AM UTC
I appreciate it babe.
Oh you're worried?
I appreciate it.
I should stop drinking?
I appreciate the suggestion.
But I just don't care.
I don't care. I don't care at all. I don't ******* care. You can go now.
Get the **** out of here.
Unless..
You have more booze..?Will you get me more?We can talk then! I promise. You're the best. You're my favourite girl, you know that?
I love you so much.
I appreciate it babe.
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 5:28 PM UTC
I hope that when you think of me
It's a deep ache.
A gut wrenching sickness that ***** up in your throat.
An anxiousness that will never leave.
I can still smell the beer on your breath
and
I can still feel the dirt under your fingernails.
I hope you rot.
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
The dog is dead.
But we drag it by it's leash anyway,
down by the water,
through the park
and finally home,
to our bed.
The dog is dead.
But we pour our affections into it's fur.
We throw
our words,
our promises,
our love
at it, waiting for it's body to grow warm with life once again.
The dog is dead.
But only once it's started decaying, rotting, bloating
will we be
okay enough to bury it,
okay enough to wipe the dirt off our hands,
okay enough to walk away.
* I wrote this to try to express my feelings regarding a dieing relationship of mine. I didn't actually **** a pup. Pup love <3*
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 8:57 PM UTC
I am the Grave Digger.
Grave-maker.
The end is nigh.
Work the plot
til it's ******
Work the dirt
with my pickax.
This is just another day for me. Another dime. Another dead.
It's important to remember that
when all your tears have been shed
and you've had all the laughs
life gifted you with,
we are just
bone
and
flesh.
I am the Grave Digger.
Grave-maker.
Your end is nigh.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 3:22 PM UTC
I'll drink this
and you'll smoke that.
I'll stare
as you stroke the cat.
"What's worse,"
you inquire,
*"to love or be loved
by a liar?"*
Scratch my head,
chew my hair.
*"Why do you
even care?"*
Eyes spark,
you lean in close
*"Your opinion matters
the most."*
And with that,
you run off to bed.
I follow,
still scratching my head.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 11:38 PM UTC
*All I see is our breath in the cold air
swirling, disappearing.
I would gladly stay forever here.
Live for the rest of my existence in your arms.
Safe, protected.
Heated only by our sighs, we lay silent.
Comforted by the thought that in this moment, we are completely content, being
alone
together.
I watch the snow drift down and land silently, outside of your window.
In the disguise of darkness, of night, of cold
I rise and fall with your every breath.
I know you are all that I will ever need.*
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
****** knuckles
and whiskey on your breath.
"If you think this is bad, you should see the mail box."
and with that you begin to weave the tale
of how you defended love's honor.
I smile.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 1:23 AM UTC
Can I come to bed?
I don't feel right sleeping alone.
Some like to stretch out.
I'd prefer to be curled next to anyone.
It's not fake if we both pretend it's real.
You know you need this and
I know I need it too.
I promise I'll be good.
You promise nothing in return.
As long as we agree to agree,
no one will get hurt.
I can sing you to sleep,
if you don't listen.
I can love you,
if you don't look.
We searched for familiarity in pieces of one another.
I am too attached to your fissures now
to break this apart.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 12:00 PM UTC
mouth tastes of copper.
I wonder how much of it was real.
This song always reminded me of you.
The words aren't there.
Or are they just buried beneath the remains of another?
Decomposing with every day that goes by.
Nails long with memory.
Teeth yellowed with regret.
Pocket rockets have got me betting that you cared more than you ever wanted to admit.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 11:34 AM UTC