everything is black and white
i can see the curve of your spine
the rise and fall of your chest
as the city below buzzes
we're stuck in a room with no door
on a street with no lights at midnight
the sky is clouding over
is this where we part?
steam rises from every cup in time
the smoke escapes from my lungs
curling into the air above me
i can feel your heartbeat in sync with mine
my bones are straining
under the weight of what's to come
were we not beautiful?
were we not true?
you're waking up
i can feel the bed below me sink and strain
your eyes are the colour of the ocean after a storm
"i could drown in those eyes"
we have everything to say to each other
but no ways to say it
we surround ourselves with people
who are already broken
a firework will rise, up, up, up
and crash in a wave of heat and colour
you were my magnificent everything
"we were never the type to do things halfway"
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 7:31 AM UTC
if my eyes could tell a story,
it would be about how it wore glasses,
how love used to be blurry until you came along,
you were like the last snowflake during winter
and the first flower that bloomed in spring.
my eyes liked to tell me a story
about how you were the shore and i, the waves,
about the origin of the stars
and how your eyes were to blame
if my lips could tell a story
they’d tell you that they longed to be pressed to yours
blow stars down my throat,
bring me back to life
take me to a place that feels like home
wrapped in your arms as the morning sun
poured across our skin
if my knees could tell a story,
they’d tell you about how they would quiver
every time your voice echoes through the room
and latches onto my soul,
they describe the feeling of the rough, cold ground
as i fall on them, accidentally bruising myself,
hopelessly losing my mind,
begging for your hands, positioned on my back,
pulling me towards you like gravity streaming on us
if my hands could tell a story
they’d trace the outline of your lips and your eyes
i was never good at maths
but i could count
the spaces between your ribs,
my fragile hands trailing down every inch of you,
planting seeds down your spine that will, grow, rise,
into flowers almost as lovely as your smile
if my veins could tell a story
it’d tell you how you drove your love into them,
aiming for my arteries,
how you were a galaxy to me,
leaving stardust and moonbeams
flowing through my body
you were never mine, but i wish you were
my veins told me a story of how they were lonely
and how they wanted to carry you, back to my heart
because they knew that that was where you belong
if my heart could tell a story
it would be one of hope, one of longing
two hearts beat in sync,
trapped beneath the weight of the world
you are everything I want
you are the poem I cannot finish, I don’t even know where to start
you are the exit wound, biting through skin
a hole in my chest where my happiness sinks into
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 7:19 AM UTC
you were summer, no
you were the thunderstorms in summer
that lit up the sky like waves, rolling
like trees, forked towards the ground with purpose
you shook my bones, hammered at my heart
you terrified me
inching towards me every second,
you got closer and closer
until you were upon me like the sadness i feel
when i'm drunk and alone and without you
in the early hours of the morning,
when sleep feels as if it will never come
and my skin sticks to the sheets that encompass me
keeping me down, attempting to keep me
grounded to this earth
i think too much, i think too much about you
this is a note, this is a letter, this is a poem
asking, pleading, with you to come home
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 8:48 AM UTC
//
the air turns from icy, to being on the furge of suffocating
the flowers are opening, sun warming their petals
the birds are singing at the break of day
the sky is blue, a clear window to the invisble stars above
you breathe in and it's almost too much
and so it's spring, and you're in love with the idea of love
you move to a new city, a city that never sleeps
steam rising from coffee cups simultaniously
as lungs ache and hearts desire a soul
who they don't even know exists
you kiss a boy that tastes like mint and friday nights
you take him home and let him rough you up
waking to white sheets, soft skin
as the sun cast shadows over the room as it rises
and he becomes a stability you didn't know you needed
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 5:26 AM UTC
draw me a path,
that leads me straight to you
paint the moon
into the sky, so i can see
the road ahead of me
i long to feel your fingertips
ghost on my skin,
reminding me this is real
my hands clasp on sheets
as i try desperately to sleep
while nightmares threaten to take over
the stars and moon will align,
a thin tread will always lead me back to you
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 8:09 AM UTC
You're sixteen years old, and you know
how to write an essay in under an hour. You know
how many paragraphs you will need, and what part of a text you need to
rip apart,
just so you can
put it back together like you want (need) it to be.
You've been alive for sixteen years and
you've smoked everything your parents
told you not to,
you've felt the ache in your lungs and
the burn at the back of your throat,
you've woken up in pain and felt regret
and you've made it passed that (mostly).
You're sixteen years old and you know why half the world
is starving, but you don't know why you're not
allowed to give them food, you don't know why
your parents wont let you race
across the world to (attempt to) save a starving child.
You've been alive for sixteen years and you know
what it feels like to be left at the supermarket while your mother
rushes of to get 'another type of pasta'
or 'just one more piece of fruit',
you learnt (learning) pretty early
what being alone
felt like.
You're sixteen years old and you've memorized
more songs than you probably should have
and you fell in love
with the idea of love before
you had even truly
felt it for yourself. One day, you promise,
you will escape (be at peace with) this body
you have been so unwillingly trapped in,
you will visit cities you didn't even know existed
and watching sunrises with a stranger that you love,
you will tear them apart,
pin them down,
forcing your love into their dying lungs.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 2:55 AM UTC
i tried to write about how
the flowers craved the warmth
from the sun,
but somehow i ended up
writing about
you
to me, the world doesn't
spin in your absence,
and when you leave
the sky becomes just a
little bit darker
your voice would, always,
be my favorite soundtrack
i hope you never fall,
you never feel pain
you are an addiction,
i'm afraid too much of you
would be an
unhealthy overdose
i hope you never think of me
as much as i think
about waking up
next to you at 3am
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 4:12 AM UTC
don't fall in love
with me, i whisper
into the crooked spaces
of your ribs
i say, oh, darling
you can do so much better
then throwing your weighed down body
into the murky sea below this bridge
i hug you tight, while i
wrap chains around your body
tugging on your hand
as i gently pull you
towards the sea
one day you'll be drowning
and forget what it felt like to breathe
all you will be thinking about is me
and how i ruined you
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 4:00 AM UTC
i could almost taste the stars, so distant, but so bright
looking down on us as we worked at rebuilding our life
your heart is heavy, blood weighed down by regret and a burning rage
theres blood on your hands, theres a gun cold and hard in my hand
you said we needed more time, i said we needed another plan
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 3:45 AM UTC
you stir when the light from the hallway sweeps over your eyelids
and he’s there, and you pull the cover back so he can take up the space behind you
there’s a press of soft skin to the back of your neck and a mumbled goodnight
and this is okay, because you do this, it works
you ignore the smell of a strangers perfume and the whiskey mumbling his words
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 3:43 AM UTC