andtrees - Hello Poetry

I thought the sun would still be here when I got back. Oh how wrong I was, How cold I have become.

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Oct 19, 2010

Oct 19, 2010 at 2:20 PM UTC

I thought the sun would still be here when I got back. Oh how wrong I was, How cold I have become.

Remembering the exact way his hand fit into hers. Every ridge of his finger prints, like papier-mâché mountains. It was all held together with glue, meant to be washed away with the rain. And she said, "I don't know if it's me." She said, " I don't know if it's me." She said, "I don't know if it's me, or you."

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Sep 10, 2010

Sep 10, 2010 at 8:22 PM UTC

Breathing In

Remembering the exact way his hand fit into hers. Every ridge of his finger prints, like papier-mâché mountains. It was all held together with glue, meant to be washed away with the rain. And she said, "I don't know if it's me." She said, " I don't know if it's me." She said, "I don't know if it's me, or you."

6

An uneventful car ride from the misty foothills to the flat highways of the city. Not a word passed between the two other travelers and I. Silent infection spreading through organs. Unknowing. Pallid skin, sunken eyes. Something's not right with this picture. We arrived at the hospital before the muggy heat had warmed the sidewalk. A building too tall and too clean to be holding any good news inside its walls. You walked through the doors with a heavy air of confidence, head up and shoulders squared. After every vial of blood tested, every swelling ***** inspected, every heart beat recorded, and question asked- that air remained the same, while mine was quickly disappearing. I would gladly trade places with you in a heart beat. Hell, I'd even give my heart to you.

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Aug 31, 2010

Aug 31, 2010 at 7:23 AM UTC

Fermentation

An uneventful car ride from the misty foothills to the flat highways of the city. Not a word passed between the two other travelers and I. Silent infection spreading through organs. Unknowing. Pallid skin, sunken eyes. Something's not right with this picture. We arrived at the hospital before the muggy heat had warmed the sidewalk. A building too tall and too clean to be holding any good news inside its walls. You walked through the doors with a heavy air of confidence, head up and shoulders squared. After every vial of blood tested, every swelling ***** inspected, every heart beat recorded, and question asked- that air remained the same, while mine was quickly disappearing. I would gladly trade places with you in a heart beat. Hell, I'd even give my heart to you.

7

Empty voices in the backdrop circle around my personal space. In my head a song plays on repeat, reminding me forever of this moment. How could you do that to me? Remembering when we set up a tent in your garage, turned off the lights and listened to the rain on the roof. Leaving me in an empty parking lot, water soaking my old cotton sweater. "We're friends, right?" How could you do that to me? Wanting to leave the resin coated walls of your bedroom, Yet having no one else to sleep with. How could you do that to me? You smell so clean.

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Aug 27, 2010

Aug 27, 2010 at 10:10 PM UTC

Orbiter

Empty voices in the backdrop circle around my personal space. In my head a song plays on repeat, reminding me forever of this moment. How could you do that to me? Remembering when we set up a tent in your garage, turned off the lights and listened to the rain on the roof. Leaving me in an empty parking lot, water soaking my old cotton sweater. "We're friends, right?" How could you do that to me? Wanting to leave the resin coated walls of your bedroom, Yet having no one else to sleep with. How could you do that to me? You smell so clean.

12

Choking on the silence in a crowded room she peels off the grey sweater in small, calculated movements. Eyes roam her open back, bouncing on every rib bone, rolling down her visible spine. She'll hid the best she can. Behind her hair. In her dress. Slowly sinking in her chair. Between the whispers and laughter from all around her ears strain to hear the one voice she needs.

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Aug 20, 2010

Aug 20, 2010 at 8:24 PM UTC

Encounter Pt. 2

Choking on the silence in a crowded room she peels off the grey sweater in small, calculated movements. Eyes roam her open back, bouncing on every rib bone, rolling down her visible spine. She'll hid the best she can. Behind her hair. In her dress. Slowly sinking in her chair. Between the whispers and laughter from all around her ears strain to hear the one voice she needs.

8