It wasn't love but you ****** it up anyway
Struck a chord in my heart for the leeway
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 6:45 PM UTC
It must be a tricky business
it lingers, hovers stealthily
an invisible silence
a swift inhabitation
the soul awaits
to startle the body
In a wordless voice
it moves from room to room
turning lights on
spends a lifetime
ever longing
to be known
and heard.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 10:39 PM UTC
the vibration of your voice
makes me feel warm
the weight of your bones
makes me feel at home
c.b
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 10:39 PM UTC
*Pull me closer at night
I'm in love with the Darkness*
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
*sometimes i think about
a mild and bleak morning
peeking through the curtains
and laying its light rays down
spreading across the white sheets
in which we lay; like two halves
entwined in a silent reunion
that surpasses the dark night
and flowers like the rising sun*
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 3:11 PM UTC
04.35 am
Bon Iver is playing quietly
For Emma is set on repeat
I'm hiding under the covers
Music is my sleeping pill
Tonight my mouth refuse to swallow it
So awake I lay
With the drapes drawn
Hoping to finally get some rest
Bon Iver is playing:
'For all you're lies,
You're still very loveable.'
While I pretend that
For Emma is my song
04.53 am
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 11:19 PM UTC
i like those pretty lines
on your face
those little creases
with each frown
with every squint
your puckered lips
and eyebrow-raises
those permanent folds
that etch your happiness
across the canvas
that is your face
those delicate grooves
that tell me you've been
happy a few
and sad once too many
i like those pretty lines
and that they're here to stay
and my dear,
i hope that i'll add
to those around your mouth
some day
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC
you sent me a love letter, a message in a bottle
but when i cracked it open i cut up my hands.
i guess i’m the same way;
i wrote you a love song
but i forgot i didn’t know how to sing,
so i yelled the words at your window like
i was flinging pebbles and you told me to put down
my boombox because i was going to wake up
the whole **** neighborhood
with my teenage angst,
my painfully naive i love you-s.
i think my heart is too loud for suburb lawns
and white picket fences.
and i guess that’s the trouble with us;
we were always
controlled chaos, a dormant volcano
and all the kids counted down to the eruption
like they were waiting for the other shoe to drop
and numbered their calendars for a date
that should’ve been on a unmarked grave.
and we’ve just got short fuses,
kisses and bruises
because when someone is the pin to your grenade
when someone is the oil spill to your wildfire
you’ve always got to be wary of explosions.
and we were always going to ***** each other over,
we were always going to
burn too bright, burn out too fast.
because i was just a pretty girl in a sundress,
and this is just a memory you’ve been trying to repress
hand clenched in the fabric of us,
so determined to not let the inevitable happen on schedule.
and i love you so i’ll ruin you, it’s inevitable
and i love you so you’ll leave, it’s inevitable
and i love you so it’s not going to work out like i want it to.
it’s just... inevitable.
there’s no avoiding it the future unless
you take your own away.
sometimes i have to remind myself five times a day
that destruction, that implosion,
that falling apart isn’t as poetic as i think it is.
and now, i’m biting my tongue to keep from saying
baby, bring home the wreckage
maybe there’s still something there for us to salvage
and if we're a sinking ship, i'll go down with you
and if we’re doomed, i’ll be ****** with you.
because i’m still thinking there’s an off chance,
because i’m still thinking that maybe if you still...
i’m still thinking that all this time
i was just wishing on the wrong star and there’s still a chance,
there’s still wishes to waste
and coins to throw in the fountain
and eyelashes to count on.
but you know somebody once told me
that the stars aren’t really there, we’re just seeing
footprints of where they used to be.
we’re always looking a galactic graveyard, a sky littered
with the star-studded remains of supernovas.
always thought you were more of a black hole than a star,
but maybe there’s some truth to every cliche;
i see everywhere you used to be clearly,
i can see your presence in every absence.
because i miss you terribly
and i know i’m not supposed to.
but i still wonder what you’re thinking about sometimes.
i still wonder about the stars
you’re looking at sometimes.
i still wonder if we see
the same constellations
anymore.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 11:17 PM UTC
*3am is an awful place to be, it is not a time, but rather a place.
A despicable destination riddled with heartbreak and despair.
I do not wish 3am on my foremost enemies.*
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 8:47 PM UTC