How do you go about
telling someone that your dinner
consisted of nothing more
than a handful of sleeping pills?
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 10:03 PM UTC
I used to tell myself that I could put you out of my brain without a second thought, to make room for things more “important”, as though you can be compared to last week’s AP history test answers.
Now, I can’t sleep without 10 mg of Melatonin coursing through my veins, following the same path that your touch once took. I wash dishes once, twice, three times, scrubbing harder and harder every time your name passes through my head. All it takes is to hear one syllable of your name; “Did you lock the car?”, “Pay the meter fee!”, and I am gripping the nearest surface with white knuckles.
When I sit in the library, I sometimes allow myself to watch your boney hands through a crack in the office. They are long and thin, with a slight purple tint. They wring with stress that you are now so used too, I bet you don’t even notice it anymore. They move swiftly, as though they have minds of their own. Sometimes, they will hover over an object, a slight uncertainty visible to those who take time to notice. Then they are back to the wringing. How do I know they are yours? Good god, how I wish I could forget.
-I couldn’t go any longer without writing about you
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 8:53 PM UTC
Off limits to the public;
slightly different.
More prominent parts
remain fenced off.
Rusted gate,
sanctuary within a sanctuary
It will strangle everything.
An immigrant,
a dump,
a wasteland with needles.
Soulless.
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 10:18 PM UTC
Too fall in love and not be ready,
is the easiest way to **** someone
from the inside out
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
~
*All the poems I write
are* just the beginning
and end
of every thought
I've ever had about you.
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 9:34 PM UTC
Loving you
Was a lot like smoking
I knew it was bad for me
But I did it anyways
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 10:31 PM UTC
Why does it matter anyway
If at the end of the day,
I'm not okay
This isn't the first time
Is it such a crime?
To be going through a hard time
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 10:47 PM UTC
In ten years, I believe my life will be great.
And every day that passes, I add on to it,
Memories swirling through my head.
Dreams of mine are sweet and simple
Elegant, in their own exquisite way
And I treasure them dearly
Dreaming of beautiful times to come.
In ten years from now, I'll be in love;
Not with just anyone, but he will be my
S o u l m a t e
In every shape and form; he'll protect me.
Dreams do come true; I'll prove it.
Everything will be okay, ten years from now.
most people read from left to right, not up and down.
read me from left to right, you'll understand what I really say;
read me up and down, you'll understand what I actually mean.
people are deeper than they are given credit for.
remember that.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 10:42 PM UTC
it feels like you are too much,
and I haven’t decided if that’s good or bad
my mind is so full of you
it feels as though I must hold my skull together
with nails and plates of bitterness and anger.
there is no such thing as a new sky
nitrogen and oxygen react to paint the same colors every time.
that is the stability of science
and the doom of a heart that has been broken.
there is no new love.
uniqueness is addiction.
am I allowed to be afraid now? this late in the day?
who would grant me permission,
the flash of lightning that stops my heart
the same way your gaze does?
you’ve replaced my blood
it is now you who decides
how much oxygen reaches the tips of my fingers
and the back of my neck
and everywhere else your touch could grace.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 10:41 PM UTC
I was staring at the wall in choir today,
and I realized that people are like orchestra’s.
You can’t know someone completely
by simply listening to them once.
You have to listen a thousand times,
pick out every instrument individually.
And once you do that,
you have to memorize every single cue, note,
and crescendo.
I want to know what his orchestra sounds like.
I want to hear the cello, the clarinet, and the violin
floating along in clippets.
The sound of brass, string, and percussion
all combining in perfect harmony.
The problem is, how can I listen to an orchestra,
when I am too scared to enter the theater?
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC