Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
alyce-marie
alyce-marie
I think half-thoughts
0
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 10:25 AM UTC
Untitled
slow to adjust I’m losing touch With everything.
0
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 10:24 AM UTC
Untitled
Everyone is someone new for me to run away with mentally or physically. All of my suitcases Filled with baggage I try to forget to bring them Yet my hands always ache from gripping the handles. There are maps and magazines I wish I could jump into I'm chained to poor mental health Poor decision making And a desire for the room to stop spinning Long enough for my thoughts to take shape clearly. Casual *** and let-downs strengthen my mental block. No one can reach me.
0
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 12:41 PM UTC
My Only Friends are Lovers too
You hang out in art galleries. I try to balance my anxiety Too many things to worry about... I'll write you off one by one Till you are no longer on my mind Too bad I can't ******* write! My hands hold negative energy I try to hide them, cover them up None of it correlates.
0
Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 11:15 PM UTC
Can't Write
I am going crazy I am going crazy Sands slip through my brain and scrape I tense and twist The feeling still lingers Pushing me I'm run over by a speeding city bus The stench of sadness Collects on my clothes Weakness holds me down and back There's a subtle aching tone A call to end it all Getting even louder
0
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 1:26 PM UTC
I Am Going Crazy
pretending to have something to complain about. what a sad existence. words spilling over like something beautiful. poets who use periods a lot. not distract him from his thoughts meandering happens and happenings misguided spins to music calm yourself and breathe living air tell me what it took for a while, that was exactly what you wanted a wrong description of the past
0
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 1:23 PM UTC
Wrong Description of the Past
Start Theorizing My life, Is lost out beyond space. Start Perfering Thicker Guidelines upon my thoughts To develop myself You Are A sexist/classist Waste of space (I want you to go away forever)
0
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 2:31 AM UTC
Spontané, la Pratique, étrange
4am 4am 4am…. Leftover stonedness Lonely memories I can’t figure out what I miss. Think it’s the calm comfort of tuning out Even though the tuning out slowly murdered me Drift beyond Drift away from everyone I fear people. Sometimes I feel like everyone else disappears in the world Or that they can’t touch me Like I’ve never been touched. I don’t think I’ve ever been touched. The computer glows and I have to be quiet. My mother is sleeping in the other room. She’s stressed and hurting Guilt notifies me that I haven’t helped her enough. I don’t know if I feel like dying but I feel like becoming mute. If I can learn to ignore everyone, I can ignore pain and let down expectations Sweetie eyes and a tall lean lover. Dark expression knowing my soul Loving and ********** Soul to soul Skin to skin Breathe with every breath.
0
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 7:16 PM UTC
Mind Meanderings
Swallow my self-loathing and let it fill me up with shame. I'll never be what I want to be, And all hope is hollow. Abstracted, I'll watch you live my life and contemplate whether it's all worthwhile… The constant misery of being lost in a world of grey, with all the colors slipping so fast and easily from my fingers. The constant realization that the good in this world is too slight And that we're all numbing ourselves from the truth with lies and shiny pictures The constant shadow of wonderful days at my heels, growing further and further away each instant until This unnatural, cruel, teasing sun is behind me, and it left with those shadows. So now, I face nothing to live for.
0
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 6:59 PM UTC
Abstracted
Is he easily moved? Truly? Or am I too smart for him? I would hope so...that would make me smirk delightfully. Maybe I ...affect him? I would hope so. I would. He looks at his world and I look at mine, I try to see his I would hope he'd try to see mine Sometimes he needs a muffle. I can only dream Maybe his dreams will join mine and together we'll make fire my air would feed his fire he would burn me up but I would let him.
0
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 6:57 PM UTC
The Boy with the Reshapable face