emmatell - Hello Poetry

it starts in my stomach builds it's way up i exhale heavily i have had enough! i'm kicking and boxing trying to escape all i feel is restlessness i only recall shape a clock on the wall a bed shielding danger dusted blue and the smell of a stranger is this the box where you want me to be? is this the world you want me to see? nervous for my behaviour the man asks if i'm reading fairytales i ask if he reads brains he concedes and slowly inhales

0

May 7, 2017

May 7, 2017 at 5:45 PM UTC

a night i don't remember

it starts in my stomach builds it's way up i exhale heavily i have had enough! i'm kicking and boxing trying to escape all i feel is restlessness i only recall shape a clock on the wall a bed shielding danger dusted blue and the smell of a stranger is this the box where you want me to be? is this the world you want me to see? nervous for my behaviour the man asks if i'm reading fairytales i ask if he reads brains he concedes and slowly inhales

20

you enamoured the skin in which she was crawling and burned your fingerprints into her stomach dandy darling dollface lover please bloom tonight she's been watering your affection for way too long is she number six or twelve to not wake you up from your loveless haze do you only feel attraction in contemporary moments i ask because she'll have to wear the scars of your fingerprints until her skin is falling off

0

Dec 11, 2016

Dec 11, 2016 at 9:37 PM UTC

in

you enamoured the skin in which she was crawling and burned your fingerprints into her stomach dandy darling dollface lover please bloom tonight she's been watering your affection for way too long is she number six or twelve to not wake you up from your loveless haze do you only feel attraction in contemporary moments i ask because she'll have to wear the scars of your fingerprints until her skin is falling off

9

My medication Is the colour Of the sky in spring Include my memories In your repertoire So that someone will recall my past self I beg you pardon On my knees Or my feet if you prefer Pure chemicals is this And I am it, too It's what holds my head Yet it's breaking my neck I'm not just searching for a rose coloured reflection staring back at me But at least remember who I was to you and what you imagined me to be

0

Mar 8, 2016

Mar 8, 2016 at 7:54 PM UTC

Pressants

My medication Is the colour Of the sky in spring Include my memories In your repertoire So that someone will recall my past self I beg you pardon On my knees Or my feet if you prefer Pure chemicals is this And I am it, too It's what holds my head Yet it's breaking my neck I'm not just searching for a rose coloured reflection staring back at me But at least remember who I was to you and what you imagined me to be

16

Jeg vil gerne bedøves Så jeg ikke skal overdøve smerte med smerte Ligesom når jeg bider mig i kinden fordi det gør ondt i foden Man kan vel sige at det udjævner smerten og gør den mere tålelig Jeg har altid gerne ville forhekses Så jeg ikke længere har magt over min egen krop og mine egne tanker Så en anden må påtage sig mig Nu tager jeg toppen og bunden Tager det bedste og værste Sluger det og vælger en monoton mellemvej

0

Feb 25, 2016

Feb 25, 2016 at 6:43 PM UTC

Anti

Jeg vil gerne bedøves Så jeg ikke skal overdøve smerte med smerte Ligesom når jeg bider mig i kinden fordi det gør ondt i foden Man kan vel sige at det udjævner smerten og gør den mere tålelig Jeg har altid gerne ville forhekses Så jeg ikke længere har magt over min egen krop og mine egne tanker Så en anden må påtage sig mig Nu tager jeg toppen og bunden Tager det bedste og værste Sluger det og vælger en monoton mellemvej

12

Flowers rottening, is the reason to grow them The acknowledgement of a volatile time Templates an, at least real, ache Embracing the pain possible to touch with fingertips When imitating deleted feelings The satire of smashing a plate to feel complete

0

Oct 19, 2014

Oct 19, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC

Satire

Flowers rottening, is the reason to grow them The acknowledgement of a volatile time Templates an, at least real, ache Embracing the pain possible to touch with fingertips When imitating deleted feelings The satire of smashing a plate to feel complete

6

Oh, how you moan! Then pour another glass, light another one and check your phone. Look at those wet eyes! Red with a bash of regret, consuming air and at last you realize; tears are elusive but scars are not

0

Sep 23, 2014

Sep 23, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC

your self

Oh, how you moan! Then pour another glass, light another one and check your phone. Look at those wet eyes! Red with a bash of regret, consuming air and at last you realize; tears are elusive but scars are not

10

While creating colorful moments for the distant sorroundings I try to fade you away They say september is a new start They do and then diet My pupils expand My wrist hurts We shape moments and ourselves Together yet lonely You play xylophone on my body 1234 5678 You shatter glass boxes with conserved feelings I burst

0

Sep 4, 2014

Sep 4, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC

Untitled

While creating colorful moments for the distant sorroundings I try to fade you away They say september is a new start They do and then diet My pupils expand My wrist hurts We shape moments and ourselves Together yet lonely You play xylophone on my body 1234 5678 You shatter glass boxes with conserved feelings I burst

13

My hand smells like sensual cinnamon smoke and all my words are affected by your existence. I want to extend every thought I have and I want to start every sentence with additions. I can only put you in perspective to the trademark of yours; the toxic wonder feeding several, miserable addictions. Words slowly drags me into stories of another persons mind and you only stay because of your petted persistence.

0

Jul 26, 2014

Jul 26, 2014 at 7:04 AM UTC

September

My hand smells like sensual cinnamon smoke and all my words are affected by your existence. I want to extend every thought I have and I want to start every sentence with additions. I can only put you in perspective to the trademark of yours; the toxic wonder feeding several, miserable addictions. Words slowly drags me into stories of another persons mind and you only stay because of your petted persistence.

4

That favorite boy of hers, mumbles her name out in the unsecure no-one sorrounding him. They would touch art and share galaxies and laugh until the dawn. She invested her time in him, and vice versa did he invest his time in her. It turned out though, that the odds were dry and not she, nor him, planned to water them. So she got herself a pretty little fiancé; a man capable of nothing but air kisses. He wasn't meant to be, but they were. While the fiancé was far away, she would cut her peonies and make her skin look like shallow marble and braid her hair. All day, every day. But only until dawn, where that favorite boy of hers, would rip of her silk shirt and draw lines between her freckles with his bare hands. Her shaking and pale body would greet everyone she thought was nice - none of them were. All they wanted was to demand her generation to touch their chosen ones and no one else in their entire city. It was tragic, grasped the lady at the hairsaloon, while she was extending peoples illusion of youth.

0

Jul 20, 2014

Jul 20, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC

behind off-white letters

That favorite boy of hers, mumbles her name out in the unsecure no-one sorrounding him. They would touch art and share galaxies and laugh until the dawn. She invested her time in him, and vice versa did he invest his time in her. It turned out though, that the odds were dry and not she, nor him, planned to water them. So she got herself a pretty little fiancé; a man capable of nothing but air kisses. He wasn't meant to be, but they were. While the fiancé was far away, she would cut her peonies and make her skin look like shallow marble and braid her hair. All day, every day. But only until dawn, where that favorite boy of hers, would rip of her silk shirt and draw lines between her freckles with his bare hands. Her shaking and pale body would greet everyone she thought was nice - none of them were. All they wanted was to demand her generation to touch their chosen ones and no one else in their entire city. It was tragic, grasped the lady at the hairsaloon, while she was extending peoples illusion of youth.

1

The tide drags me back and then exhale me out I'm falling/bending over I can be your rotten, little lipstick flower in the wind They tell me what happiness is and I unconsciously agree All I can think about is the mink robe and the bathtubs sound when i exhale enthusiastic bubbles That pretty face of yours; can I rent it for a dollar?

0

Jul 19, 2014

Jul 19, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC

Holla

The tide drags me back and then exhale me out I'm falling/bending over I can be your rotten, little lipstick flower in the wind They tell me what happiness is and I unconsciously agree All I can think about is the mink robe and the bathtubs sound when i exhale enthusiastic bubbles That pretty face of yours; can I rent it for a dollar?

6