Driving too fast on my way to get you because the sky is opening up into the Heavens, thinking that a sunset can make you fall back in love. I pick you up, but you've already haloed. My heart is telling me to grab your hand, my hand is telling me to take another drag of the cigarette we're sharing. Hiding beneath the cuffs of my jacket, sitting on the hood of my hatchback. Never knowing whether to fall into you, or fall apart. I look at you against the mauve sky and I can't remember the last time you weren't high.
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 4:41 PM UTC
"I promise to surprise you every single day, even if it's as small as picking you a flower from outside. I promise, I swear to god"
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 4:34 PM UTC
Maybe we need to forget each other - the sound of each other's voices, the way our skin feels pressed together, the faces we make when we throw our heads back in laughter. Maybe I'll meet you in the back seat of a car again one day and we can start all over as the people were before.
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 4:29 PM UTC
You are talking, you are crying
And wishing I was there
I am sitting, I am watching
And of the truth I am aware
But I am stuck inside this body
That cannot convince itself to care
There's a melancholy to the room
A blankness to his stare
Letting me know that he is not completely there
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 2:14 PM UTC
blue human clouds,
sweetheart,
all you do is rain
so many nights were worth leaving me
and you took them in your vein
you forget me again
and with the things you never say
i guess im to blame
for letting you drive me insane
dying just to smile
coming to the end of your lies
and you,
the end your insides
because pills, people, hearts
all subside
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 10:05 AM UTC
come on grey girl
let's go for a drive
we'll light up some cigarettes
shoot me up with your lies
come on green eyes
I know all you see is blue
I look at the night sky though
all I see is you
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 9:18 AM UTC
The air was thick with a reminiscent July sort of heat that crashed around us like ocean waves as we barreled through it. All that the world was, was laid there before my eyes, a pervade of red and green smeared through the corners of my eyes as I flew through it's tunnels of fresh pavement. I wasn't good at skating, neither was T, but she pretended to be. Each turn was a whole hearted attempt not to be taken victim by the tar I was trying to own. My head was half made up of the passed summer and half resisting my own momentum.
A Wonder Years song was repeating in my head and so I hummed along. I don't think T cared about anything, summer or falling, playing chance on the yellow line, her caramel hair violently dancing in the sunshine. She was a made up of collection of high school parties, anger never spoken, and a suspended drivers license tied together in a pair of ripped shorts and a purple tank top. Summer was compiled of nights spent in her truck looking for a place to be, weekends after school started felt like attempts just to relive past nights.
Slants of light cutting through the spaces between the leaves burned into the back of my tired irises, I hadn't slept in probably days, but I felt good in my caffeine induced euphoria. Minutes felt like hours in those moments that demanded nothing but sheer focus. Days that felt like they could never end, vivid in the corners of my mind.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 12:50 PM UTC
Dear, you are my sweetest forbidden day dream
Blue eyes starring up at me from pant seams
Just enough to pull my heart strings
You are the quick gazes stolen through guitar screams
Chills, you are simply seated next to me
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 12:48 PM UTC
and nobody gets those people who don't give a **** about anyone or anything. those people who burn others down without a second thought. chinaski, the man in all of bukowski's poems. it is those people who cared the most because all we want to be loved, so badly that sometimes we sustain from love itself. we need to be loved so badly. so badly that the fear of not being loved is greater than the need to be loved. to care is a disease that corrodes your bones if you use it too much. sometimes i burn other people just so i dont have to feel the sting first, i confess, but thats who youre turning me into, but who gives a **** one day ill change my name and write a book.
whatever. i used to be belligerent, but then all of my friends died. now im a fire build in the pervade of a never ending rainstorm. its my depression, but everyone calls me killer because i pass them cigarettes even though their boyfriends hate the smell.
i don't need you and you don't need me. you dont care about books, or poetry, or silence, or experience, or art. ive known that since the moment i met you, but i thought you wanted to know. ukulele girl and the basketball star. BUT thats just why youll never know me, youll never know my brain, youll never be able to think my thoughts.
IT IS SO ******* EASY TO LOVE ME
EVERYONE IS TOO LAZY TO LOVE ME
STEAL LIKE AN ARTIST, NICK, if you want to know someone you have to learn at least three of their muses for they make up most of the person you want to get to knowing. then if you really want to know them, better than they know themselves, learn three of their three muse's muses. thats why i gave you love is a dog from hell and grapes of wrath. bukowski loved hemingway.
thats why i go to all your stupid basketball games alone just to sit in the desolate student section because i want to take the time to understand the love of someone i love. people arent the same as me. they look at the world, and its too big to fit the whole picture in front of their faces, so they cant fathom it. but to me it seems easy. but thats just why love ever lasts.
no one wants to know their lovers three muses three muses. as if it is so hard to read a god ****** book. everyone is so greedy they want to gobble up the soul of the first thing they think is beautiful. they dont want to keep them like a cactus in their bedroom, they just snip them at the stem and put them on a shelf just to watch them as they rot.
because everyone thinks that to love is to own.
but when i read poetry i feel intoxicated. i will sit there and read a poem until its meaning is exhausted because, to me, it is so rich to experience a feeling so vividly. my heart quiets to a slow beat in my chest, just to hear the words quiet in my head. thats how love should always feel. it should be reading everyone of your lovers metaphorical books just so you can know them better. because knowing them makes you feel whole.
but if you want to leave then why dont you just go
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 1:23 PM UTC
*he had
eyes parallel to heart
at the same time
my own mind felt like
it was a day away
we were made of
green hope
like
waiting at
traffic lights
the mountains breathed
the rain whispered
we watched
and hoped*
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 2:52 PM UTC