A wild goose chase
At a faster pace
I thought it will be easy
I sound little crazy
Unfelt emotions
A tide in the ocean
A dropped pin
An Unavoidable sin
The Bell Jar and The Broken Wings
Will only make me cling
Too near too far
There is a shooting star
I wish upon it
No it is not a myth
This is not the end
Because you are just a friend
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 10:56 AM UTC
I could so easily
become a Hermit.
Push the World away,
shed obligation,
Never Truly touch
another Human.
But I am burdened
with Duty.
I am Cursed
to Care.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 10:52 AM UTC
I wanted bones.
I wanted stick thin wrists and jutting shoulder blades.
I wanted ribcage ladders leading to a faltering heart.
I wanted to die-
But I called it something else.
I called it perfect body.
I called it finally confident,
I called it happy and
They called it sick.
I challenged them with "willpower"
and they threw back "nine months to live if you keep this up."
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 3:31 PM UTC
I'm over the limit.
It's not okay for me to drive.
You see I've bit it.
I've bit the dust and I'm barely alive.
You see I'm intoxicated.
Drunk on your atmosphere.
A lot higher than I anticipated.
I can almost see you through the smoke but it's still not very clear.
I drink your tears and I'm addicted.
As if they're a life giving elixir.
And here I used to think mine would never fall,
But do you see the trails they burn?
My lungs yearn for your breath.
And my lips, oh they crave your skin.
Do you remember how I used to swim in your hair?
And take naps in your eyes?
Oh, babe, can we just take a moment?
Babe, can we just steal a moment and live in it?
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 3:41 PM UTC
I am writing because
I have this thing where I must always be moving.
My feet My hands My eyes.
Something.
I am writing here because I need some way of telling you how I feel.
A way to tell you why I wish for the things I long for.
I am writing here to tell you, Universe, God or anything in between…
That I am…Tired.
I am so tired of being tired.
I grow tired of the constant confusion of my purpose, my meaning.
“You’re beautiful”… but I don’t feel it.
“ You’re remarkable and intelligent” … but my body begs to differ.
I know I am not special when I ask why I cannot see the things others claim to see.
I can’t be the only one..
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC
Lay not your glass slippers
Upon the stairs
For I am too infatuated
With the stars
To chase a girl
Who runs from them.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 4:12 PM UTC
If i could just be
All of the things I pretend to be
Then every little thing
Would be just fine.
The "i" isn't capitalized.
purposely.
If it were... it would be a lie.
For i am not big and tall.
Truthfully i am
smaller than the chances of me
being all of the things i want to be.
and that's microscopic.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 4:05 PM UTC
1. Like smoke in my lungs, it is an acquired taste that I could not bring myself to quit. And now that I have, the flavor is unprecedentedly toxic.
2. Your name is merely a catalyst to my relapse. You turned your head away from it then, and I know you will turn your head away from it now.
3. To hear that beautiful arrangement of letters coming from my own lips only reminds me of the genuine smile on your face that you can only have when I am gone. And every time it makes me wonder if I truly mean it when I say I am happy for you.
4. I cannot reconcile what is with what could have been. Maybe if I was still yours and you were still mine, it would be endearing to say your name.
5. When it's 4 am and I am falling apart in my half empty bed, I cannot find the breath to utter your name between sobs.
6. I have spent too much time pretending that your absence has had no affect on me that I have not yet grieved. But, I could never pity myself without shouting your name into an empty void.
7. Maybe I am only idealizing you, but his name left a bitter taste and I have been craving yours on my lips.
8. I cannot say your name because I know that if you were to turn your head in recognition, I'd get lost in those blue eyes and fall for you all over again.
9. There is no logic behind how I inherited the right to say your name. Since you have left, this complacency is eating me alive and I am only left to wonder why someone so beautiful would have ever touched a soul like mine.
10. I cannot speak of your name any longer because it is no longer my privilege. It is hers to say now.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my ANNABEL LEE;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the side of the sea.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 2:33 PM UTC
Mirror, Mirror, on my wall,
I just want to be thin, pretty, and tall.
Mirror, Mirror, if I change my hair
Maybe someone will start to care.
Mirror, Mirror, If I starve myself,
at least I'll be beautiful, forget my health.
Mirror, Mirror, If I cut my wrist,
will I feel like I exist.
Mirror, Mirror, Don't you see?
what you show, is ruining me..
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC