it’s a quiet thing,
death is.
because no matter how loud you scream
how hard you cry
or if you slip away on your own
everyone around you grasping at your life
that falls like sand through their fingers
time moves on.
and i still can’t quite understand
how you can go from being everything
made up of stardust
and the remains of galaxies
to being nothing at all
and still life
moves on.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 6:37 PM UTC
Is it poetry?
Or the result of our hidden resentments?
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 5:06 PM UTC
I know you aren't worth crying for but I just can’t help myself. The same way I can’t help but notice the ever changing colour of your eyes in the sunlight
I don’t know why I can’t get you out of my head but what I do know is that I deserve better and you, you are not better.
You are poison .
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 8:35 PM UTC
lips so dry your crunchy words become combustible. my heart is made of fuel and my head gets heavy when i inhale the clouds in your beloved mind. bruised skin absorbs lies and that is why you never tell me that i look pretty covered in green. the edge of her smile cuts chasms deep enough to drown in when she cries out hidden onyx, but you still let her sleep on your side of the bed while i am gone. you beg me to leave, but no god can ever kiss my thoughts beautiful enough to love the man you have chosen to be. your heart ***** her poison like a love-sponge and i do not even care if you burn up in her veins. heaven is only an opportunity if you choose to be with boys with red velvet tongues and songs about forever
(k.w)
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC