There is a sixteen year old drowning in my gut
I am holding his head down under water
He is me
It’s a sad fact that if you want to improve
You have to die
You have to **** yourself
He struggles mightily, though
And on days like this
He claws his way to the surface of my skin
All the old scars of the last five years
His mocking reminders that I am not free
Stand out in the cold winter air
So if teary eye or frowning mouth you see
I’m busy drowning my old self
Or is he drowning me?
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 12:53 AM UTC
You broke my little heart, yes,
But like a spoon cracking open crème brûlée
You exposed something beautiful
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 12:39 PM UTC
I'm trying
for your sake
to not fall in love with you
But isn't it better
to ask forgiveness than permission?
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 10:45 PM UTC
You left long ago
But your footprints still mar the
Dark trails of my heart
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 12:42 AM UTC
Is never returned
And I
I forgot your address
And what I should have written
Got lost in the mail
It's too late now
But I should like to give you
One last letter
Sealed with a kiss
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 3:49 PM UTC
Like watching spring's first bloom open,
You were something to behold.
I was visiting the Windy City;
You kept me from being cold.
Soon enough, I will forget your name;
Your rosebud lips, nonetheless,
And your swaying-boughs voice,
Will yet make my passions bold.
For you have melted through my indifference,
You have thawed the permafrost of my soul.
Though you likely will never settle its valley,
My heart yields to you a tribute of its firstfruits.
With your quiet warmth, you have loosed winter's grip
--you have set me free.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 1:08 PM UTC
Hearken ye and listen to the call of the
drums, two hearts pounding in unison as if
joined at the hips, and the lips, while the hormones
pump you through the processing station of
life, and love, and a white picket fence, and a house like a
dream, which is what this has been from the start:
One drum, beating
alone.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 1:07 PM UTC
Because it is impossible to reduce you to scientific words.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 5:25 PM UTC
Car que c'est impossible à vous simplifier aux mots scientifiques.
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 7:32 PM UTC
Light travels at
Three hundred million meters per second.
If I turned into a photon tonight
And flew away for nine or ten years,
I might escape the memories of you.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC