I don't know why I bother
thinking of someone
who doesn't even think of me.
I remind myself of this at night,
when I think about how it would feel
for him to text me something dumb,
like a good night text, or some
stupid existential question when he's high.
I remind myself of this when
my phone stays silent throughout the night.
I remind myself of this in the day,
when someone says something stupid in class
and he laughs so hard that he goes red-faced,
and smiles so hard that it touches his eyes.
I remind myself of this when
he mentions his girl in casual conversation,
and how he looks happy when he says it.
I remind myself to look unphased.
I remind myself to carry on.
I remind myself that there will
be no good night texts, or existential ramblings.
I remind myself that I shouldn't
look at him when the whole class laughs.
I remind myself that he's happy with her.
I remind myself that I was never seen.
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
you were full of cliches,
like the light in your eyes
and the warmth of your grip.
and of all things,
i couldn't get over the scrape of stubble
when you kissed my cheek
and the feel of your fingers in my hair
when you held me closer to you.
it's an infatuation, and a blind one at that
but my fears don't lie in a tender feeling.
it's a fear that my words to you were lost
in the light of your eyes
and the grin on your lips
and the scrape of stubble
on my cheek,
on my temple,
on my forehead.
how can a tender touch
melt a cynic when they know
that the feeling will never be reciprocated?
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 11:29 PM UTC
it's amazing
how a minute
can make the difference
between tomorrow
and today
and how one word
can make the difference
between the beginning
and the end
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
its always this time of night
when the sky is dark
and you can barely see the stars
because its so cloudy
that i stay awake
and pretend that the blue light
of my computer
is sunshine.
i stay awake and wish
that i could turn into gold.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 12:40 AM UTC
side effects of this drug may also include:
feelings of depression
feelings of anxiety
desensitization
unconsciousness
insentience
the sudden want of the inevitable to become uncertain
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 11:51 PM UTC
your lips are the cesspool of sin
invading my thoughts,
filling my brain with the images
of them swollen, red, bruised,
or coated in saliva
and caught between your teeth,
or even forming my name
in a whisper or a moan.
you are the devil's bartender,
mixing a molotov cocktail
of aphrodisiacs and raging hormones.
nothing will cure this thirst.
you would have me beg.
there is a spark of sin
inside this sinner.
there is a pool of gasoline
i am drowning in
and you have the box of matches.
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 5:28 PM UTC
I can no longer discern
whether or not
this is the rise or fall.
I can no longer tell
if he is honey, or if he's vinegar.
I can no longer think.
I can no longer feel.
This is the reason I am alone.
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 5:17 PM UTC
i wish that they hadn't used such heavy duty ink
to mark my hands with x's
because then the sweat would have washed them away
and maybe i'd have a chance.
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
i can always hear him in that stupid song
and that stupid
gooey
rush of blood and
rapid heartbeat in my ears
happens when we make eye contact
and i look away and pretend
not to have been looking at him
but i was. and he knows i always do.
and sometimes i like to imagine what his hands feel like
what his plush lips would taste like up against mine
and what it would take to get him to smile with the one dimple.
i imagine holding his hand and wearing his jackets
because i bet that they always smell good.
i imagine going to see his band and laughing at how much they ****
but then asking him to sing for me later.
i like to imagine
what it would be like
to not get my hopes up
to not fall head over heels
over a stupid school-girl crush.
i like to imagine
what it would be like
to know how i feel
and how he feels
even if he doesnt.
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 11:53 PM UTC
i wish that my fingers
could write the words
and paint the pictures
of a beautiful life
played out in my mind
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC