your eyes were the clearest of blues.
they were beautiful.
bright glowing gems that seemed to pulse,
adorned with the longest lashes
that curled gently towards the sky.
with your eyes closed,
they'd be the asymptotes that
never reached your cheeks.
your eyes were what made me fall in love with you.
all i can remember now
are those brilliant crystalline eyes of yours.
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 12:13 PM UTC
it kills me
to know that you've turned to
those things.
you were getting better, you were.
you made a promise to me and to
yourself
that swore off those things
those things
that make you
giddy and glossy and
float and fall and
soar and sad and
dream and drunk
and make you not you.
i can't help you
no matter how much i want to or
how hard i try.
because in the end, it's you who will have to make the decision
you, who will have to control yourself
you, who will have to realize what you've become.
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 12:43 AM UTC
i was so sure
that you were gone from my mind forever.
i am angry at myself
for letting you back in
i am angry at myself
for falling for you
again
i should have learned from my mistakes
i should have learned that
we just weren't meant to be and that
even though our love was strong
the times where i was sad
outweighed the times where i was happy.
and i refuse to blame you, because it really
wasn't just your fault.
it was mine too.
and so i'm angry that i messed up
and i'm angry that you messed up
and i just wish that you would be gone from my mind now
but it doesn't seem like that's happening
anytime soon.
Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 2:31 AM UTC
love,
our story is
different.
it is not like
all of the other
stories that
fill up libraries
and occupy
the minds of
people on this
earth.
love,
our story is
beautiful.
it is not absolutely
flawless or
perfect
but yet,
its imperfections
are what makes
it different.
love,
our story is
unique.
it is not at all
cliche or
normal
but yet,
its craziness
is what makes
it beautiful.
love,
our story is
ours.
it is not, will not
be anyone
else's
and still
its characters
are what makes
it *different,
beautiful,
unique,
and* ours.
and love,
i love
our story.
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 3:58 PM UTC
my heart feels like it's been bound
by twine
thinning, fraying, splitting, cutting
the soft metronome of my pulse feels
heavier and heavier
each thud thunders in my body and i
start to drown, simply because
the twine is choking my heart so tightly
taking away my breath
and forming it into tears
all because of him
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 2:21 AM UTC
why do we still do it
when we know nothing good comes out of it?
you should do it now
but i don't want toooooooo
get it over with
i'll do it laterrrrrrrrr
don't push it back another hour, another day
i'll find time to do ittttttttt
and eventually, we all just become addicted to it
and those who can quit by themselves,
are the ones who are truly talented.
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 9:29 PM UTC
why is it that
you still plague my mind
even thought i'm sure that
i've erased you?
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 3:53 PM UTC
she whispers. "hey."
"hm?"
"you're my boulder."
he chuckles. "what?"
"you're my boulder. you're
stronger than a rock. you're
the one who keeps me
from losing myself. you're
the one who keeps me
grounded. you are my boulder."
he grimaces. "but if i'm a boulder
then i'd crush you...i would
hurt you."
she laughs quietly. "well then, you're
a gentle boulder. soft and fluffy and
all that stuff."
he stifles a laugh. "so do i just have
a bunch of fluffy green moss
growing on me?"
she nods. "you're
my big, gentle, sweet, moss-covered
boulder."
he smirks. "well...
then i guess you're
my pebble."
she looks into his eyes. "how so?"
"you're my pebble. you're
small but not easy to break. you're
seemingly fragile but you're
stronger than you look. you're
part of me and you're
the one who can either break me
or make me whole. you are my pebble."
she smiles
and he wraps his soft green sweatshirt
that he's wearing
around her
shoulders. "mine."
she murmurs. "my boulder."
he whispers. "my pebble."
and finally,
both of them
are found
as they gaze at the stars
and into each other's eyes.
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 10:53 AM UTC
A bright candlelight
dances, enough for
giving heat. It jerks
kaleidoscopically, like
music. Near oblivion,
phantoms quietly rollick.
Shadows trail up
vapid walls. Xylography
yet zigzags.
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 10:58 PM UTC
I’m a riddle in nine syllables,
A building with so many levels,
With two big windows, hiding secrets.
Adequate, presentable outside,
Labyrinthine, ramshackle inside.
Everyone becomes disillusioned.
Who’ll fix this piece of architecture?
Who will tend it, patch it up, love it?
Maybe someday, someone will. Who knows?
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC