Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
_wisteria
_wisteria
21/F/Outer Space I don't go to therapy. I write.
i google it at 3am because lightless blue shadowed rooms can cover secrets and lies. and the glance up, look away quickly and blink blink blink like it never happened, can hide behind my eyelids for now. because tainted thoughts don’t qualify for pity and wake up headache stare into space isn’t a question of how are you, it’s why are you this way? i don’t know, i say. i’m sorry, i say. that my brain clutter is too much of not the right stuff and my eyes don’t look dreamy like you imagined they would be. dripping caramel swirls and covered with a golden starry sky. that all i have are unsteady hands and undecided eyes and uncertain everythings. and because yes, i live in oblivion but that doesn’t mean i enjoy it. or that i like staring at the shine bright white between us or the dot dot dot of our thoughts . . . willing the what ifs and if onlys to come true because the clouds move faster than i do. hot glue face to window until you say my name soft on the edge of your lips because what would happen if i hung by anything more than a thread i google it at 3am because how else am i supposed to know. my blood is floating with question marked uncertainties and blurry,, blurry vision.
0
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 1:04 PM UTC
i google it at 3am
tense tense ten, days left the strain of a rope-wrapped-hand weakening until the lights flash like first class grins do... do you remember carol of the bells echoing off the walls, the repetitions don't sound like chords anymore but mutter, sigh, and oh no i have so much to be sorry for do you remember when she because the sun is setting at 4:43pm and the warmth is leaving the world too quickly now. dewy-eyed, no it's fine. everyone is happy, right? do you remember when she laughed? at peppermint tear drop petals silver shine bright ornaments red and white mix like the night on the bathroom floor remembering, remembering, remembering. the clock always tick-tocks the same when she yelled, cooked, danced with love until anticipation replaces grief and family connections are dis connected, confrontations, confusion remember when she used to smirk? no. this is how it is now...
0
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 12:57 PM UTC
from the end of the year
their genesis was hollow, like thrown stones that don’t skip. just fall through the water’s surface drop 10 feet down on the east side of the lake, never to be seen again. they took the lie and tried to make it real. went to please stay and i’m scared and all the hyperreal places where people go to be saved. but then smoke fills the room and the fire escape shuts and that bright yellow love is burnt with all the things you thought but never said.
0
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 11:28 PM UTC
skipping stones
"do you think you truly know me?" i hear you ask through the thick air surrounding us. and i’m scared to say that, to me, you are that small space in time before the *** boils over the last cherry is picked the first raindrop drips from the sky. you’re the suspension that could be lived in always hoping for perfection because once occurring, the what could have been is broken and that’s when i’m scared we’ll crack. eggshell on tile floor and brittle dried clay we wouldn’t be sharp glass but a plaster wall with a single tear through the middle. and i’m scared to tell you that when i saw the way the cement under the bridge turned brown from the ruin of the rain, the iron bleeding, i thought of you.
0
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 1:37 AM UTC
rusted
a bewildered face, a blurry cloud in the sky, i’m turning in circles and every second i see something else collapse. like the lungs behind our ribs, we can’t breathe when the air is so thick. our bodies shrinking, lungs suffocating, i don’t think you have room for me,, anymore.
0
Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 2:03 AM UTC
blurry
how maybe it’s strange that always we are surrounded by the stars yet rarely do we actually look yet rarely can we actually see anything more than dim sparkles in navy blue like glitter spilled on jeans and. the moments i’ve taken to stare for a minute get stuck in my mind like permanent hot glue or gorilla glue or whatever that stuff is called. and memories don’t leave, sometimes they say “hey do you remember me?” laying on the trampoline when i was supposed to map the constellations but i don’t think i cared. there was so much to look at. by the big loud lake at night, the brightest they’ve been. by the less big less loud lake at night when no one wanted the day to end. holding on to small time. sometimes the stars stare back. 3:00 am cold driveway pavement and shivers and you and you and you and the time they danced for us. the night said ‘here watch i made this for you.. while they sleep you are here wondering what is next? what is next?’
0
Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 1:57 AM UTC
it’s 2:12 am and all i can think about are the stars.
i think i want to stop killing myself. stop thinking this is an okay way to live. you know, i’ve accepted the growls and hatred and dark cloud sky dumped into my brain each day, i’ve accepted it as life. the storm blanket is comfort now, safety instead of vulnerability. maybe it’s easier to live without trying so hard. i want to realize it’s been four ******* years. sometimes i pretend to wonder why i’m not okay. my fingers type out words about me being confused, why is everyone else okay and i’m just always not. as if i don’t know what i put my own body through each day. is this what makes us the most advanced species there is? the self doubt, the ability to harm ourselves against all evolutionary instinct, the need to hate ourselves? is that really what makes us special?
0
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 7:58 PM UTC
01 (stream of conscience)
leonardo, michelangelo, bramante i’m drowning in my chair in the back of this art history class that has an unfortunate association with you in my stupid brain and the way the high renaissance style reminds me of my life when you         (when you, cared) i painted the walls in shot color the pinks and dark reds shined through my cheeks, did you know how much i cared? or that raphael left perugino out of his most famous painting hanging on the walls of the vatican and now his memory is fading like i wish you would. i excavate my brain every day trying to find the reason why why i care so ******* much. why you could **** and bury your feelings with ease like they were never real were you even real? or did i dream up your laugh while sitting in the corner of my room, combining feathered pillows and laundry beads with wax from my favorite candle and there you are born in my brain like an invasive species choking my veins gasping for air as we watched the stars in your driveway or maybe it was pompeii. it felt like standing in ruins i watched the things our brains can’t say cut through the stone falling around our bodies. did you notice everything we destroyed? i could have flooded the colosseum with the tears i held back i wish you cared i wish you knew that i write poetry about the things you love because you said you’d make me love it too                               but i learned without you
0
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 7:55 PM UTC
a portrait of you
Red screamed to Sky— “Why can’t I be Gold, who is cherished, jackpot, a bull’s-eye. Honey glazed fields and caramel skies eaten up like a succulent mango. Gold gets to fill the pots on the end of rainbows, while I am merely a member on the spectrum. Gold is a craving, desire, a thirst, but I am     hardly     much. Rust, decay, a rotting radish, I weep from their bodies, defective. I’m the polluted breath on their polluted tongues, I scorch their skin and blast their wicked hearts out.” Sky whispered back— “I look down on the globe and there are no distinct, dazzling metallic Yellows, but I see you, Red, in the rose bouquets and apple trees, in blushed cheeks, and soft kisses. Red, you are dewy strawberries and strawberry bushes with ladybugs dancing on half eaten leaves. A woven picnic blanket, checkered in line with the adoring couple and their glimmering hearts and their freckled faces, rain boot hit puddle, bitten lips, lip bite cherry, sip wine in scarlet dress, spicy pepper, firework— You are Red.
0
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 3:48 PM UTC
Red screamed