I am being asked for a bio
a short one, perhaps, considering
my fleeting days
what is a nice way to put
my life has not started yet
and that all my dreams and demons
are still locked inside my closets?
and as I walked off the high school
a hell with company, a heaven without wishes
everything translated into fears
but an abundance of sparks, could-bes,
and a ground for love
I felt dead in a moment
alive in the next.
I had to end on a positive note
For I am returning
tomorrow morning.
Oct 20, 2020
Oct 20, 2020 at 7:32 AM UTC
I would like to look at the moon until it reflects your face
I would like to die, and sit calmly for you to join me
I would like to be dramatic and be sad and be mad
And I would like, above all, for you to love me.
Oct 16, 2020
Oct 16, 2020 at 7:11 AM UTC
pinpricks of light
sad, right, 3am, night
told my mother
well, lied, actually
don't be a bother
comma splices
for thoughts, instead
a mess for a head
and sometime, soon, dead.
Oct 2, 2020
Oct 2, 2020 at 4:13 AM UTC
He's looking
again
continuously
Move, why don't you
you're ruining my view
with that plaid shirt
belly pushed out
absolutely disgusting smile
I can't look away
Sep 17, 2020
Sep 17, 2020 at 4:31 AM UTC
I waited for you by the swing
The oldest among the young
And I think
I am ashamed of my youth
My feet covered the clouds
All the way up, eyes closed
wrangling hands
This is what freedom means
Being mortified
Chasing it nonetheless
Shutting out the world
Pinpointing it to my feet
Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 8:48 AM UTC
I live
for the silence
in the wild
the order
amidst the chaos
a beat of truth
when everyone
knows something
about life
understanding
it's brittle
but warm
Sep 6, 2020
Sep 6, 2020 at 10:19 PM UTC
I am in stitches
watching these *******
laughing at my bruises
my life has been
flinches
at clowns
flushes
at men
no longer
can I differ
Sep 6, 2020
Sep 6, 2020 at 10:18 PM UTC
When I was a girl in the city
I thought the world had a limit
Bikes and cars and planes
and astronauts, maybe
But I never really thought to
look for the stars
Aug 24, 2020
Aug 24, 2020 at 6:36 AM UTC
Being young
is
Music not being loud enough
to hide what your mother is saying about you to a stranger
Outside the locked door
Aug 4, 2020
Aug 4, 2020 at 7:22 AM UTC
I feel my heartbeat
In the thrum of your fingertips
Against my chin
I feel my ascending breath
In the brush of your lips
Drawing things out of me
It's hope, that you will love me.
It's worse, when I don't know what to say
It's an end, of some sort, of an hopeless kingdom of uncertainty
And it's a start
just one of the countless
to come.
Aug 3, 2020
Aug 3, 2020 at 10:07 AM UTC