Pretty flowers
Little kids
Wasting hours
In the fields
(s.a.)
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 8:11 AM UTC
(you once described me as an ocean)
an oceans
current is constant
its waves flow
pulled by the moon
while the stars watch
it grabs the sand
and lets it free with every fluid motion
never letting go of anything in its wake
you can caress its nature
but you cant grasp
the depth of life
that lives in the core
of its cave
breathing
thriving
in the darkness only its natural creatures
can understand
(and i understand
why you left)
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 8:09 AM UTC
I miss you.
I miss you when i'm at home watching a movie and i want to add my own commentary.
but only want you to hear, but you're not near. I miss you.
I miss you when i'm scrolling through Tumblr like a loser and I see a post that i'm just dying over and I want to show you. but you're at you're own house, with you're own view.
I miss you.
I miss you as soon as you leave. even with a smile on my face because I had such a good time with you, I still can't be as happy as you make me.
I miss you basically any second that i'm not with you.
I'm not necessarily sad when you're not around, I just wish we could be together for every little boring moment of life. I know someday we'll live together and it will be lovely and I know we are young and I know it's smart to wait until we can afford it, but i just miss you by my side, I want you by my side every single night for the rest of forever.
And Ever too.
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 8:09 AM UTC
*When you
wake up in the morning
do your bones
ache?
Have you forgiven
yourself?
Because I
haven't,
and I don't understand
why you get to
feel less guilty than
I do
even though
you're the one
who's done wrong.*
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 2:57 PM UTC
Do not run from the sun, the bluebird said,
Your feet will unravel, leaving nothing but thread.
Then lend me your wings , she said in reply,
And we'll fly to a place where the shadows don't lie.
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 2:57 PM UTC
This sadness, this numb
It is not poetic.
I cannot write about galaxy ridden veins
or fire seared eyes
This sadness, this emptiness
It is not beautiful
There will be no heroic sweeping away of broken princesses by
princes with cigarette clenched teeth
or ***** laced lips
This sadness, this gut-wrenching pain
Will not be daises in Marlboro boxes
It can't be unraveled threads sewed back
by an infinite but dysfunctional love
No, no.
This sadness isn't any of that.
This sadness, it's raw
It hurts to look at but it's torture to bear
People look away from this type of sadness
Because it sure as hell ain't pretty.
But what it is is real
This is the sadness that, once moved past, is never forgotten
It's worn like armor in battle
Like a coat of arms
This sadness makes you a soldier
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 2:57 PM UTC
I'm sitting alone
At a desk
Wearing long sleeves
In this summer heat
My laptop in front of me
A book beside me
And some pills inside me
Nobody knows
My secrets
Or my lies
I won't tell them
I won't let them in
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC
i just sat there
i just looked at the ceiling
wishing to see your eyes
because they are stars
that shine brighter
that the brightest stars
in the darkest skies
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 2:52 PM UTC
she's so beautiful when she cries
she's so beautiful when she hides
she's so beautiful when she hurts
and it's a kind of sadness
that is so beautiful,
and it's a kind of sadness
she is addicted to.
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 2:49 PM UTC
When I asked you to fix me,
You told me I wasn't broken.
But, let this soak in.
I just wanted to know,
If i was still a pretty enough picture to be worth, agonizing over a puzzle.
Even when it's a struggle.
And you have to nuzzle each piece into place,
Kissing the pieces bent out of shape,
Searching for pieces gone missing,
But you can't make a raisin back into a grape.
Yes, I Remember your middle name
And who says we can't celebrate failure?
Don't be sad, we tried, we tried.
When you write your story in the sand it washes away with the tide.
It isn't our fault.
We may have cut ourselves open, But we didn't ask for the salt in our
wounds
Can I still say "we"?
I guess you're kind of done with me.
I don't blame you, Puzzles are frustrating.
they're a tease.
Please, tell me I haven't lost the most important piece.
Tell me I haven't lost
you.
© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 2:35 PM UTC