I try writing
but all that comes to mind is you
your brown hair and your round nose
your thin legs and arms
your bright eyes
I can only think of the way I want to do everything with you
Everything on earth
I want to intently study how rain falls
I want to have lazy sundays
Where all we do is watch movies from the eighties
And drink warm tea and make forts of blankets and sheets
I want to watch the way the stars twinkle in the dead of night
From the top of my building
I want to slow dance with no music and only the rhythm of our hearts
I want to see the world with you
And dream with you
I just want to be with you
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 7:34 AM UTC
the power she felt from having an empty stomach
it was a power like no other
the beautiful dilated eyes
and bellies filled with water
the power she got from saying no to
the temptations of food
how beautiful her long boney fingers looked in the moonlight
she loved feeling so thin she could snap if she
fell
with great hunger came great power
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 4:19 AM UTC
tell me your hope and fears and dreams
no me your present past and future
tell me what you want and what you need
show me everything you love
and everything you hate
show me what is real
hear me
listen to unspoken words
written between the lines
im calling for help
im calling for you
hear me
can you hear me
whispering i love you
through the wind
no words but please hear me
listen for me
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 10:35 AM UTC
How are you?
the age old question
when we were younger we were trained to say
good thank you
how are you?
politely staring up
How are you?
the age old question
when we are teenagers we say
i'm fine
but how are you?
hiding our emotions
bottling them up
How are you?
the age old question
when we are grown we say
doing well
how are the kids?
But its all an illusion
none of us are really doing fine
none of us want to know how your kids are doing
and we are tired of polite silent stares
so i dare you
next time someone ask the age old question
How are you?
tell them truth
release your bottled up emotions and let them roam
and ponder
and then you will be free
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 7:40 AM UTC
fifteen is your first polaroid camera
fifteen is your poetry phase
and your journal phase
keep these poems
these journals
these ideas
because as much as you deny it they are all about someone
fifteen is the confusing dance of friendships
fifteen is the flaws your afraid of
and the person you dream of becoming
don't let your flaws eat you alive
become the person you are dreaming of
fifteen is goosebumps in class
fifteen is first love
and the first heart break
but everyone underestimates fifteen
when in reality fifteen is forever
fifteen is the first traces of alcohol on your lips
and the first fingers on your skin
fifteen is the late nights in the rain
fifteen lives in us always
fifteen is forever
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 7:03 AM UTC
He makes me write poems
Sometime sad
Sometimes happy
Because with him there are endless up and downs
Infinite possibilities
He makes me feel invisible
And as if I'm the stars in his eyes
He asks why I can not sleep
I tell him there is to much to think about
But he doesn't know I'm thinking of him
Him
I want him
All of him
His sad songs
His lonely songs
His cracking smile
And the ever eluding eyes whispering something I can not understand
I want to understand him
I want him to want this for me
I want him to realize I love him for his flaws
And his endless beauties
Loving him is like looking at the tail of a comet
Flashing hello and goodbye at the same time
Sparkling but then gone in an instant
Sometimes when he looks up at me
I believe for second the things that keep up untill 2:57 at night
Might not be real
He takes away my pain and sadness
Until I realize he will never be mine
The girl he wants is someone simple and beautiful
She does not stay up until 2:57 at night dreaming of his face
Or thinking of how lonely she is
She lives and loves
She loves him
And he loves her
-(e.h)
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
I sit in bed lying lonely
I realize there’s no one here to talk with
To laugh with
Or to cry with
Only the monsters in my head
To remind me I’m still human
I count the glow in the dark stars on my ceiling
For the hundredth time
And think to my self on the brink of sleep
There’s no one here to talk with
To laugh with
To cry with
Because you are the only one I want here next to me
To share these precious moments with
The moments that we all lay in bed
And look out on the passing cars and city lights
And feel so small
I want you here next to me when I take those last few blinks
My eyes so heavy
I want to see your blurry face starring into mine
And everything is a jumbled blur
And then my eyes close for the last time
But right before I fall asleep
I want to feel your fingers drawing pictures of us on my back
And then I wont be so lonely
-(e.h)
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
she went from two servings
to one
to none
hoping someone would notice
but no one did
-(e.h.)
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 10:31 AM UTC
He fell in love with the way she slightly parted her lips when she was almost asleep
But not quite
He fell in love with the way she wore large glasses for fun
And how she would bite her pinkie to hold in a laugh
The laugh in which he loved
He loved that she had three freckles in a triangle below her left eye
And the way she tilted her head when she was thinking about very important things
He fell in love with her eyes and the way they longed for him
He loved being wanted
He fell in love with the pitter-patter of her feet on their bedroom floor
Because that meant she was thinking too much and he could hold her
And make her fell okay for just a night
He loved being wanted
He loved her for everything she was and everything she was not
He was falling out of love with the drool on her pillow
He thought it was silly she wore large glasses for no reason
And how she always had bite marks on her pinkies
He began to find her laugh very loud too loud and always ringing in his ears
He was falling out of love with the three freckles beneath her left eye
Or was it her right eye?
And he defiantly did not love the way her head was cocked when trying to decide between one ply or two
Or the way she always was looking at him
He hated her clinginess
He fell out of love with the noise she made at night
He never woke up anymore
He hated her desperation
He did not love the little things about her anymore and he was not in love
-(e.h)
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 10:23 AM UTC