How am I going to put you into words without making a mess?
I am a mess
This pencil is a kinked hose and my garden is dying by the second
This paper is a safe and I forgot the combination
This music makes no sound and this silence is too loud
Am i screaming loud enough for you?
Can you hear me over your own problems and your white lie whispers?
Can you taste me over the bitterness of your own tongue?
I need to lay down because I can't stand to see you.
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 2:49 AM UTC
I imagine other stomachs
are full of gardens with flowers
but mostly butterflies
i think i forgot to cover up the holes
when i planted my seeds
because all thats left now is hollow
like an old log
maybe that's why i eat to much
but also too little
and try to fill the hole up
to make the plants grow
and bring the butterflies in
what i don't know is that
my stomach will grow a rose bush
the thorns will *****
and my stomach will bleed
for hollowness again
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 7:03 PM UTC
he was an unswept floor
she was unsolved rubik's cube
he taught her to write poetry
she taught him to love
she said that love was a butterfly
he'd never even been in a cocoon
he said that words were twelve story buildings
she was afraid of heights
he was a creaky old cabin
she was an unfinished jigsaw puzzle
but he had the missing piece, lost in the dust behind his rickety counters
and she was a fixer upper, looking for a renovation
they were red stripes with orange plaid
they were mismatched socks
both so different
both so lost
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 9:35 PM UTC
I am holding on to your words like breaths of air
and it's not right to suffocate myself like this
replaying you like an old tape that skips
broken memories to match the shards of glass inside
on which I've cut myself too many times
lyrics that mean nothing but memories
a beat that makes the pit in my stomach grow
louder than the colours on your bedroom wall
and I can paint with them all.
paint the awkward hugs goodbye
the chance encounters on the street that we were never lucky enough to have
I can paint over the population sign
but you'll always inhabit my mind
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 1:06 AM UTC
Plucked into a room with multiple doors
They tell us to keep them all open
pick one door
They tell us
pick it now
In a sea of desperation
we see each door as an exit only
As if once a door is picked
there are no do overs
We can change our minds
but can we change our paths?
Because maybe the house
was made for us to explore
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 12:45 AM UTC
one slight motion
held the end of happiness
the beginning of lonely nights
and hungover mornings
in one slight motion
i could feel everything
c
r
u
m
b
l
e
around me like towers
and i knew i never should have built them that high
because the impact was stronger
than the wave goodbye
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 1:03 AM UTC
*it's the darkness
and the dead of the night
that make my mind open up
when the city lies down
taking midnight strolls down memory lane
and the circles under my eyes
start to match the nighttime sky*
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 11:18 PM UTC
Your voice rings in my ear like a perfect pitch
your words dance across my mind like notes
If you are music
then I am a musician
and our love is a composition
Every note speaks
Every rest makes them listen closer
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 4:09 PM UTC
A flash of colour and hope
vanishes
around the corner,
as I paint over the population sign.
You'll always inhabit my mind.
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 3:45 PM UTC
The threads and colours embody all that i want, wrapped loosely around me in a warm hug, slightly too large. I get carried away by the coziness and the smell of it all, the memories within the stitches.
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 3:39 PM UTC