Dead-Lock - Hello Poetry

I haven't been sleeping a lot lately The world's been awfully rough lately My decisions are a little Hasty Old friendships have long since rusted I'm not liked and I'm never trusted Yet I'm okay with being hated Then at least I know where I stand

0

Mar 21, 2017

Mar 21, 2017 at 2:55 PM UTC

Rash

I haven't been sleeping a lot lately The world's been awfully rough lately My decisions are a little Hasty Old friendships have long since rusted I'm not liked and I'm never trusted Yet I'm okay with being hated Then at least I know where I stand

8

The old habit returns sometimes It shows up at the door Maybe it expects a handshake Or a hug An "I miss you" as I fall back into it It entices me Waves around the pain and blood The 3 o'clock in the morning trips to the bathroom Were I had nothing better to do And no idea how I should really treat The temple of a body I have And the catacom that is my mind And how not to listen to its rotting words

0

Mar 10, 2017

Mar 10, 2017 at 5:30 AM UTC

Resurrection

The old habit returns sometimes It shows up at the door Maybe it expects a handshake Or a hug An "I miss you" as I fall back into it It entices me Waves around the pain and blood The 3 o'clock in the morning trips to the bathroom Were I had nothing better to do And no idea how I should really treat The temple of a body I have And the catacom that is my mind And how not to listen to its rotting words

13

"Woe is us of the 60s and 70s. Technology is ruining our lives. Millennials don't talk to eachother but to screens. Change is bad. Thomas Edison was a witch." Let us enjoy our commodities, Our youth, Our technologies, And our expression, As you do yours. Please.

0

Mar 9, 2017

Mar 9, 2017 at 7:48 AM UTC

Technophobe

"Woe is us of the 60s and 70s. Technology is ruining our lives. Millennials don't talk to eachother but to screens. Change is bad. Thomas Edison was a witch." Let us enjoy our commodities, Our youth, Our technologies, And our expression, As you do yours. Please.

11

My head is a tangled mass of string and wire They don't connect They don't lead into something greater I am full of yarn and old embroidery thread

0

Feb 20, 2017

Feb 20, 2017 at 1:36 AM UTC

Threaded

My head is a tangled mass of string and wire They don't connect They don't lead into something greater I am full of yarn and old embroidery thread

4

She used to write poems about slitting her wrists About monsters that did but did not exist About band aids and stained paper towels About grubby toilet seats and empty bowels And well, now She regret the scars Fishing line trails out of them Transparent until noticed Then tangled and messy Catching on hot sweaters in the summer On the eyes of friends Of her grandparents She found them to no longer be the uneven lines of art she loved She'd stick to colored pens

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Feb 20, 2017

Feb 20, 2017 at 1:32 AM UTC

Fishing Line

She used to write poems about slitting her wrists About monsters that did but did not exist About band aids and stained paper towels About grubby toilet seats and empty bowels And well, now She regret the scars Fishing line trails out of them Transparent until noticed Then tangled and messy Catching on hot sweaters in the summer On the eyes of friends Of her grandparents She found them to no longer be the uneven lines of art she loved She'd stick to colored pens

14

Stink bugs sit on the toilet seat Their fat bodies hide in the shadow cast by a bar of soap Thumping against the mirror, the light bulb Hiding in cabinets Waiting for me, dead on counters

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Feb 20, 2017

Feb 20, 2017 at 1:20 AM UTC

Metamorphosis

Stink bugs sit on the toilet seat Their fat bodies hide in the shadow cast by a bar of soap Thumping against the mirror, the light bulb Hiding in cabinets Waiting for me, dead on counters

5

I used to go to bed at eight, and wake up at six. I used to play hopscotch and leapfrog, and believe in magic tricks. I think I've changed. It's 2am The back of my phone is hot My eyes are burning and tired My mind is wired Tick

0

Feb 20, 2017

Feb 20, 2017 at 1:16 AM UTC

Change

I used to go to bed at eight, and wake up at six. I used to play hopscotch and leapfrog, and believe in magic tricks. I think I've changed. It's 2am The back of my phone is hot My eyes are burning and tired My mind is wired Tick

8

We are alone in our horror stories Silent as demons eat us alive Trapped in a leering land Dying to survive

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Jul 2, 2015

Jul 2, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC

We Who Walk Behind

We are alone in our horror stories Silent as demons eat us alive Trapped in a leering land Dying to survive

4

Ignore her lies Ignore her wrist Just pretend That she doesn't exist Watch as she falls It's not that hard She isn't the girl That you'd typically miss

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Jul 2, 2015

Jul 2, 2015 at 11:43 PM UTC

Oblivious

Ignore her lies Ignore her wrist Just pretend That she doesn't exist Watch as she falls It's not that hard She isn't the girl That you'd typically miss

8

The pain it creates cannot compare To the joy she knows that will soon be there It's worth the scars that will never heal For just a moment not to feel

0

Jul 2, 2015

Jul 2, 2015 at 11:29 PM UTC

The Empty Girl In an Empty Room

The pain it creates cannot compare To the joy she knows that will soon be there It's worth the scars that will never heal For just a moment not to feel

4