There is hate in your love,
and there is violence in your peace.
Who can we trust,
if no longer the police?
There is corruption in your money,
you flaten forests for green paper.
You destroy habitats for land,
yet you claim you will be our savior?
The government pretends to care,
but they just want our income.
when will America wake up?
all we need is a little momentum.
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 2:27 AM UTC
They say the good die young and that used to scare me but now it just kind of makes me stop and think, and in a year or two, it might just make me smile.
I stopped being good a long time ago.
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 1:20 AM UTC
Maybe if I drink, I won't remember what I've done - or maybe I'm more frightened by what I haven't done - and I'll start to forget. But ignorance is not bliss, and now I'm drinking to forget why I wanted not to remember what I've done or what I haven't done and now I'm stuck remembering what it is I tried so hard to forget.
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 1:18 AM UTC
I am wood
You are fire
-scratch that-
You are an exuberant inferno.
There was no doubt in my mind that when I first saw you, I felt the sparks.
When you aproached me, I felt warm, and whenever we talked, I could feel the electricty -scratch that- I could feel the flames.
Then you left, but I was far from help. You set me on fire and then you were gone.
You destroy everyone you meet, leaving nothing but ash and ruin in your path.
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 12:44 AM UTC
Soft lips
that stung like alcohol when we kissed.
Blonde hair
almost as vibrant as your smile.
Pale skin
pulling me closer, begging to be touched.
Blue shirt
I told you it brought out the color in your eyes.
Dark room
truth is I couldn't see your eyes in that basement light.
Hard floor
the truth is I just want you to hold me.
Intoxicating
you make me feel dizzy and I want to walk straight again.
Intoxicated
you make me say things I usually won't, you make me do things I usually don't.
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 3:37 PM UTC
Crooked nose
Shy smirk
Freckles
Thousands of them
Eye lashes
Eyes
Blue eyes
Or were they green
They were beautiful
Lips
God I want to kiss them
Collar bones
Pale skin
Birth marks
Secret birth marks
Scars
Laugh
I wanna fill my head with that laugh
White teeth
You
You
You
Perfect
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 1:25 AM UTC
The past, the present, the future.
What I've done, what I'm doing, what I will do.
The old me is not the same as the me I am today. I broke bones and I broke hearts but that's okay.
Now it's the present, time to reflect on who we were. Just don't look back for too long or the memories will burn.
I know I did wrong but next time I'll do right. Next time I won't leave you alone in the night.
Next time will be different, "I'll save you," I said. But when is the next time, if you're already dead.
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 1:13 AM UTC
Love will **** you
It'll bend you, break you, throw you around.
It's like a tsunami:
consuming, powerful, inescapable.
You and tsunamis are pretty similar.
When I saw you I felt you in the deepest parts of my being, smashing around and displacing my insides.
And when you left, you took away parts of me I can never retrieve. Like a wave returning to the sea, taking with it all in it's path.
You and tsunamis aten't that different after all.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 7:12 PM UTC
Art is what happens when you let go of the fear that comes from ditching the status quo.
It doesn't have to be born on paper, or drawn with a pen. Art is a lifestyle, not a talent created by men.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
"Poetry rhymes"
that's what they said.
I tried it a hundred or more times
until my fingers were red.
I tried writing about you -
all the things we've been through.
I made memories into rhymes
but not once did you materialize.
Finally I realized that's not what it's about
poetry is something you can't breath without.
Poetry is making someone else feel
all the **** that you've endured.
No, poetry is not about rhyming
and of that I'm sure.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 4:39 PM UTC