she begged for god
but god left a long time ago.
i could understand
where she saw hope,
but the light she saw
was just the spark of a lighter.
another day passed,
another moon risen.
we paint our faces like
babylonian ******
and step out into the streets
to drown our troubles
in ***** and older men.
we lie to our parents
when we come home,
but we are still little girls
who smell like cigarette smoke
and ***
her room is filled
with dead artist on her wall,
records in the corner,
a forgotten guitar
she often glances at before meeting
me under a streetlamp.
we quote jim morrison
and sing amy winehouse
as whiskey slides down our throats
and burns our chests.
the men we drink with say
we remind them of their daughters
but by the end of the night
the liquor in them draws them to our
'old souls'.
and now you watch her
from the other side of the bar,
the eye contact holding
a lust and desire
only eros could create.
as you swig back
the amber liquid
in your glass,
only one thought suffocates
all others;
you'll have her begging for god tonight.
Jun 17, 2019
Jun 17, 2019 at 9:31 PM UTC
one day we will all be forgotten
and no one will remember the way your eyelashes
fluttered in the moments you retained conciousness.
they will not remember
my melancholy eyes as you spoke words
that sounded like waves crashing through my ears.
they will not remember
the sight of your hand enfolded into mine
with our innocence being the main focus of the image.
one day i will no longer
remember who you were or what you meant to me.
however,
i currently have no plans of forgetting you
any time soon.
Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 12:22 PM UTC
i'd say i'd want to die,
but i am not living,
only existing.
going day by day,
the same routine over and over,
slowly being filled with hatred
for those who have stolen your
love and freedom away from you.
'i hate you! i hate you! i hate you!'
you wish to scream, but
suppress it all in a look they
cannot read.
**** it, i'll cry.
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 10:07 PM UTC
this room may be filled with color,
but all i see is grey.
this world may be filled with light,
but i am shrouded in darkness.
this face may replicate a smile,
but the heart holds a longing
for youth, freedom, love,
overshadowed by a depression
i cannot overcome.
i spend my waking days
growing weary, sleeping until
my headaches have passed,
eating until i become so full
i can ***** out my feelings.
and yet, i have not let a tear fall
because i am waiting for the day you'll wipe them away.
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 9:59 PM UTC
i cannot write.
i cannot think.
i cannot sleep.
i can only work work work work work
until i drop dead.
i read your poetry every day
searching for myself
in every syllable.
but it's all about me!
i
i
i
ineedsleep.
i
i
i
iamamess.
just like this poem i think i am good at writing.
(amessamessamess)
i
i
i
iwouldtakeasleepingpillbut
it would only result in a mess.
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
dear mom,
there are so many things i would
like you to know, but i fear your
judgment. there are so many
times that you've ruined for me.
there are so many memories you
have taken away from me. yet i
still love you.
what makes you so different from
a toxic lover? what separates this
heartbreak from the one before?
what satisfaction do you get from
taking my friendships away, my
family away? why must you break
my heart worse than anyone else?
love, bailey.
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 12:14 PM UTC
sometimes i need to sleep,
and my words will get misspelled,
and my head with get wavy,
and my music will surround me.
i'll get this high that i've never felt,
and it lets me live, momentarily.
it gives me meaning to my life.
the separate reality that is sleep deprivation
that makes me see spots in my vision,
and makes me stumble,
and makes me appreciate the music distracting me
from the problems of my day.
the sleepy texts i send before my eyes close for a few hours,
knowing i'd have to be awake sooner or later.
i find myself taking naps that i call rest
because no one cares enough to see the bags under my eyes.
or how puffy and red they are.
or the scars on my body growing more and more prominent.
or the way my smile seems forced.
no one sees me.
and i think that's okay.
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC
you say you know me,
but do you know how i feel when i see you?
do you know the pains i get?
do you know the guilt that brews in my gut?
you say you know me,
but do you know what i look like at 2 a.m.
as i cry into my dingy white pillow? do you
know what i look like with dried tears on my face?
do you know the long walk i take to the
bathroom as i search my mother's medicine cabinet
for a pill or razor that'll release the pain you bottled
up inside me? do you know why i'm an alcoholic at fourteen?
you don't. because you don't know me.
and i don't think i know you, anymore.
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 11:30 PM UTC
fire.
a burning flame,
full of wrath and hatred,
holding grudges against people
who loved you the most.
water.
flooding water pouring through streets,
pouring down cheeks,
as you curled yourself into a ball,
reassuring yourself you’d be okay.
air.
a calm, sweet wind,
moved trees and sent the scent
of flowers to your lungs,
calming you as you took
a long, slow breath.
earth
the cool, soft earth
that you dig your nails in,
holding on tighter than imagined,
and you wondered,
how could you lose yourself?
Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 12:39 PM UTC