her bravery was thunder, and her fear lightning
her spirit the rain that poured down
and could wash you away
she rolled in on sunlit clouds, left you in the dark
she was a storm
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 2:52 PM UTC
would you whisper softly
onto my skin
with your fingertips?
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 11:59 PM UTC
i used to write poetry
about not talking to you for the weekend,
how the words bottled up inside an hourglass
the seemed to stand still
*now time flies
and weeks pass while you forget me*
i used to write poetry
about sleeping through sunshine
so i could stay up with the stars
worshipping you
*now the moon rises
and i fall asleep in an empty bed*
i used to write poetry
about star trek and bad ***
with words that rhyme with ****
just to make you laugh
*now times have changed
and the metaphors aren't funny*
i used to write poetry
about the beautiful, twisted mystery
that you were to all of the world
except for me
*now the pages are blank
and i don't know you at all anymore*
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 12:53 PM UTC
darling
it seems there are galaxies in your eyes,
and your lips sing the song of a million first kisses
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 12:14 AM UTC
i am a garden
overgrown with wilted flowers once again.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 1:58 PM UTC
i kissed you a kiss of
see you soon
and i'm gonna miss you;
you kissed me goodbye.
i soared away naively,
gliding on metal wings and
the lift from my own lovesick heart.
it took me months
to understand the sadness in your eyes
and that i was the only one who didn't know
i'd never see you again.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 12:37 AM UTC
i have sat here
trying to describe to you the beauty
in all the shades of black;
*from the charcoal that drips from my lashes,
to the shadows of onyx that tango with my thoughts,
even the raven stains of blood in the night*
but your eyes are crystals that
reflect rainbows in every direction
and no matter how hard you try, you
just can't see past the colors
and i'll always be Clara Bow trapped
in a grayscale screen
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 4:40 PM UTC
and i am caught in an anonymous place
somewhere between healing and haunting
between numb and seering with pain
decaying and blooming
somewhere where the future
looks dangerously like an exit sign
and where the broken pieces on the floor
don't quite make a mosaic
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC