crimewavves - Hello Poetry

did someone tell you to treat me differently was it a conscious decision because it's 5:39 in the morning and i'm struggling to understand i'm prying my eyelids open just to write this down to get it off my chest and even worse, what gave you the right to suddenly treat me like dirt? not even an employee, not even a person you treat me like dirt yet you treat everyone else the same as you used to treat me. what changed? who said something to you? what did they say? it effects me more than you know. to be singled out in such a way. because i'm in love with my manager and i'm not sure what to do. please help my find the words to say.

0

Aug 4, 2014

Aug 4, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC

damaged goods

did someone tell you to treat me differently was it a conscious decision because it's 5:39 in the morning and i'm struggling to understand i'm prying my eyelids open just to write this down to get it off my chest and even worse, what gave you the right to suddenly treat me like dirt? not even an employee, not even a person you treat me like dirt yet you treat everyone else the same as you used to treat me. what changed? who said something to you? what did they say? it effects me more than you know. to be singled out in such a way. because i'm in love with my manager and i'm not sure what to do. please help my find the words to say.

1

You cut your foot on the floor of the laundry room, We dressed your wound in kisses. You pointed to a path that led to wildflowers and tall grass And shattered beer bottles like stained glass littering the ground, It was overgrown Like his hair in the summer. Something about cruise control and two left feet, And second hand smoke from the passenger seat And drowning the butterflies in our stomachs with seltzer water, Because it burns like gasoline. I'm sorry I'm not everything my first impression made me out to be. I am a flower growing through the crack in the sidewalk but not as beautiful as the roses he got me. Holding secrets deep like salt in wounds, Or caskets filled with forever sleep, Because I didn't want to hurt you and you didn't want to hurt me.

0

Jul 6, 2014

Jul 6, 2014 at 12:24 AM UTC

flower

You cut your foot on the floor of the laundry room, We dressed your wound in kisses. You pointed to a path that led to wildflowers and tall grass And shattered beer bottles like stained glass littering the ground, It was overgrown Like his hair in the summer. Something about cruise control and two left feet, And second hand smoke from the passenger seat And drowning the butterflies in our stomachs with seltzer water, Because it burns like gasoline. I'm sorry I'm not everything my first impression made me out to be. I am a flower growing through the crack in the sidewalk but not as beautiful as the roses he got me. Holding secrets deep like salt in wounds, Or caskets filled with forever sleep, Because I didn't want to hurt you and you didn't want to hurt me.

15

once again my head is buried in the sand, and all the cigarettes i smoked and all the hearts i broke had you feeding the whole pack to me out of the palm of your hand. it was a stroke of luck that i lucked out, clucked out like a chicken without a head, no direction where to go and using my feet to guide me instead. and it was a stroke of genius that struck me out, we twisted words we crossed arms we bit tongues until bloOD WAS RUNNING DOWN THE SIDES of our chins like a mudslide and the hairs on our skin prickled up with anxiety when we realized that this mortality is more/less a gift than a blessing, so i'm done second guessing everything that i see. i'm relapsing back into hiccups and cigarettes and you're relapsing back into me. how am i to trust my eyes when the foundation of everything i once believed is now a pile of dirt? twenty seven seconds left on the microwave and you took them for granted just like the garden you planted to try to feel alive and alert, but what would you with twenty seven seconds on your death bed screaming happy crying hurt sending fists and laughter bouncing off walls

0

May 23, 2014

May 23, 2014 at 4:20 PM UTC

small talk

once again my head is buried in the sand, and all the cigarettes i smoked and all the hearts i broke had you feeding the whole pack to me out of the palm of your hand. it was a stroke of luck that i lucked out, clucked out like a chicken without a head, no direction where to go and using my feet to guide me instead. and it was a stroke of genius that struck me out, we twisted words we crossed arms we bit tongues until bloOD WAS RUNNING DOWN THE SIDES of our chins like a mudslide and the hairs on our skin prickled up with anxiety when we realized that this mortality is more/less a gift than a blessing, so i'm done second guessing everything that i see. i'm relapsing back into hiccups and cigarettes and you're relapsing back into me. how am i to trust my eyes when the foundation of everything i once believed is now a pile of dirt? twenty seven seconds left on the microwave and you took them for granted just like the garden you planted to try to feel alive and alert, but what would you with twenty seven seconds on your death bed screaming happy crying hurt sending fists and laughter bouncing off walls

19

after all these years, you're still chugging the bottle to the bottom but what you don't know is, the bottle is a bottomless abyss. and no one is waiting on the other side for you. your candied cancer lips closing in on my throat, your hands so elusive like smoke in my brain, like death in your touch you held me and it felt like the return of a long lost friend i made you coffee i made you think i made you late for work. i was the only thing you had and you we're the only thing that never loved me back. so how many more poems do i have to write before you let me in? how many scars do i have to slice open again until i have the heart to taste you?

0

May 2, 2014

May 2, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC

for --

after all these years, you're still chugging the bottle to the bottom but what you don't know is, the bottle is a bottomless abyss. and no one is waiting on the other side for you. your candied cancer lips closing in on my throat, your hands so elusive like smoke in my brain, like death in your touch you held me and it felt like the return of a long lost friend i made you coffee i made you think i made you late for work. i was the only thing you had and you we're the only thing that never loved me back. so how many more poems do i have to write before you let me in? how many scars do i have to slice open again until i have the heart to taste you?

20

We preserve flowers after we've cut them from their roots because we want to prolong their beauty. But isn't that what we do to our dead loved ones as well?

0

Apr 30, 2014

Apr 30, 2014 at 10:38 PM UTC

connection

We preserve flowers after we've cut them from their roots because we want to prolong their beauty. But isn't that what we do to our dead loved ones as well?

2

sharp eyes, sharp tongue, sharp nails, sharp shoulders. it's a wonder how you are not bleeding out on the floor. you said it was rare to see the roots of my hair. (well that's because it falls out when i dye it) but little do you know, i'm still dying inside. i just wore masks to hide it. so i use my life to give birth to symbols and those symbols are pregnant with a plethora of words that nestle themselves into cocoons in my dreams, to hatch the next day with elegant wings. my limbs are not rungs on the latter out of your personal hell. you know i slack off and slouch against the sofa and the couch when i sit and smoke and i wake up. we set ourselves up for failure and we sell ourselves short. i wanted to just be a friend of the sort, not bathing in your shadow. i resort to failure. failure is easier than anything else, i don't care about myself. it's easier to condemn yourself to your doom than to be consumed by success. there's an undertow in life and that's why it's so hard to swim back to shore, i'm sure you know.

0

Apr 30, 2014

Apr 30, 2014 at 9:45 PM UTC

can you keep a secret

sharp eyes, sharp tongue, sharp nails, sharp shoulders. it's a wonder how you are not bleeding out on the floor. you said it was rare to see the roots of my hair. (well that's because it falls out when i dye it) but little do you know, i'm still dying inside. i just wore masks to hide it. so i use my life to give birth to symbols and those symbols are pregnant with a plethora of words that nestle themselves into cocoons in my dreams, to hatch the next day with elegant wings. my limbs are not rungs on the latter out of your personal hell. you know i slack off and slouch against the sofa and the couch when i sit and smoke and i wake up. we set ourselves up for failure and we sell ourselves short. i wanted to just be a friend of the sort, not bathing in your shadow. i resort to failure. failure is easier than anything else, i don't care about myself. it's easier to condemn yourself to your doom than to be consumed by success. there's an undertow in life and that's why it's so hard to swim back to shore, i'm sure you know.

26

i want to be known as the girl who furled her pointed mint green shoes into the blue lake. i never wanted to go down in history as the girl who traded her soulmate for a lover. i wanted him to think of my soft face and commend me for getting high and making art. he had a sweet heart, i had nowhere to go. he i had smooth legs with miles to go, he had a smooth voice and handsome lips. always wanted to be somebody, never wanted this. we started with clean palms and dirt under nails. you started with hallway hellos and breathing my air. but stares turned into wrecking something frail, and we ended ourselves by trying to care about a ship that had already sailed.

0

Apr 27, 2014

Apr 27, 2014 at 10:29 PM UTC

cycle

i want to be known as the girl who furled her pointed mint green shoes into the blue lake. i never wanted to go down in history as the girl who traded her soulmate for a lover. i wanted him to think of my soft face and commend me for getting high and making art. he had a sweet heart, i had nowhere to go. he i had smooth legs with miles to go, he had a smooth voice and handsome lips. always wanted to be somebody, never wanted this. we started with clean palms and dirt under nails. you started with hallway hellos and breathing my air. but stares turned into wrecking something frail, and we ended ourselves by trying to care about a ship that had already sailed.

15

i identify as the blood stains on your sheets the holes we ripped in the edge of your bed i identify with the deadbeats in the streets and the clouds of smoking dancing over your head. i fell in the forest with no one around to hear me so the question begs, did i really fall? i'm stuck between a rock and a hard place, i've been everywhere but i'm going nowhere at all. you reeled me in with your thin feelings and your brown eyes and your white lies. you wore against my bones when all along i've known, you bore your plan inside me this whole time. you've wasted plenty of mine, and you made your scars plenty deep, but have the nerve to ask me why i'm not fine, you haunt me in my sleep.

0

Apr 26, 2014

Apr 26, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC

to whom it may concern

i identify as the blood stains on your sheets the holes we ripped in the edge of your bed i identify with the deadbeats in the streets and the clouds of smoking dancing over your head. i fell in the forest with no one around to hear me so the question begs, did i really fall? i'm stuck between a rock and a hard place, i've been everywhere but i'm going nowhere at all. you reeled me in with your thin feelings and your brown eyes and your white lies. you wore against my bones when all along i've known, you bore your plan inside me this whole time. you've wasted plenty of mine, and you made your scars plenty deep, but have the nerve to ask me why i'm not fine, you haunt me in my sleep.

16

you said with a salty tongue and gravestone teeth that i have lost your loyalty. you looked at me with starry eyes of moonpie size that i have looked like i've been doing ****** since we've been together but i haven't touched a thing except your poison apple heart.

0

Apr 26, 2014

Apr 26, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC

****** eyes

you said with a salty tongue and gravestone teeth that i have lost your loyalty. you looked at me with starry eyes of moonpie size that i have looked like i've been doing ****** since we've been together but i haven't touched a thing except your poison apple heart.

14

you're a cadaver dog you're a singing dove with its vocal cords cut you're a get away car you're an invisible scar but you keep cutting deep like an ocean, like the undertow and i feel your hips shift in your stride when you turn your face to the sky and your lips kiss air whenever you walk by and you don't care.

0

Apr 24, 2014

Apr 24, 2014 at 11:18 PM UTC

;

you're a cadaver dog you're a singing dove with its vocal cords cut you're a get away car you're an invisible scar but you keep cutting deep like an ocean, like the undertow and i feel your hips shift in your stride when you turn your face to the sky and your lips kiss air whenever you walk by and you don't care.

12