How do I tell someone I love that they have to go home?
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 7:02 PM UTC
I hope you don't think that you're broken,
But if you do,
It's okay, because I'm broken too.
And even though our jagged edges might tend to hurt others,
Don't be afraid.
Broken pieces can't hurt each other,
But rather, they perfectly fit together.
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 2:36 PM UTC
Even the most tragic of things
can be beautiful,
if only seen
from a different perspective.
And although we are kept miles apart, the only thing keeping us connected
is the distance,
and well,
I think that's beautiful.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 9:06 PM UTC
Sometimes I wish that Time
would become enemies
with Winter,
Just so that the clock could freeze
as we lie together.
Intertwined.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 12:55 PM UTC
And as the rain fell towards those deadly pieces of rubber,
I was reminded that
sometimes something must die
in order to achieve peace.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC
If you could feel what I feel every time I see your face in a crowd,
You would learn to love yourself
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 11:22 PM UTC
Once upon a time love wasn't real.
The fairytales twist it, they shape it, they make it.
Once upon a time love was hidden behind doubt,
and he appeared one day and cleared all fear.
Once upon a time, I believed in fairytales again.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 10:46 PM UTC
One day you will meet a boy
and he will cause your fingertips to go numb with the thought of his laughter. Your eyes will fall every time they meet his,
as if his are a sea of rich green and yours never learned how to swim.
And as your lips draw nearer,
you will stall just to feel his breath on your cheek.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 10:21 PM UTC
My suicide attempt was not the typical sin,
It involved no knife, no rope, but ink upon my skin.
As the pen moved along, the tan turned to blue,
My pores opened up and the ink flowed through.
It wasn't as straightforward as most death wishes may seem,
Because it started as a hobby, not a dark and morbid dream.
Yet the more the words and drawings had come running down my arm,
The more people had warned me that the markers would do harm.
Or "warnings"- so they thought- but once the thoughts had reached my mind,
I realized it was the most painless and easy escape that i could find.
So day by day, my poisoned skin prayed for the kiss of Death,
And the doodles followed me up until my final breath.
c.m.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 1:56 PM UTC
My suicide attempt was not the typical sin,
It involved no knife, no rope, but ink upon my skin.
As the pen moved along, the tan turned to blue,
My pores opened up and the ink flowed through.
It wasn't as straightforward as most death wishes may seem,
Because it started as a hobby, not a dark and morbid dream.
Yet the more the words and drawings had come running down my arm,
The more people had warned me that the markers would do harm.
Or "warnings"- so they thought- but once the thoughts had reached my mind,
I realized it was the most painless and easy escape that i could find.
So day by day, my poisoned skin prayed for the kiss of Death,
And the doodles followed me up until my final breath.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 1:55 PM UTC