grxy_n_cloudy - Hello Poetry

I am from black chipped nail polish And hand me down flannels I am from Saturday morning flapjacks And car rides with no destinations I am from secret kisses in the backseat And the soft tune of a Fleetwood Mac vinyl I am from open mics and spilling my guts through poetry And cigarette burns on second hand couches I am from the strong aroma of incense and cheap cologne And scattered ashtrays I am from sweaty strangers laying around my house And broken guitar strings I am from the sweet smell of a cigar and a new book And the hum of my old man's Volkswagens engine I am from being tortured by my own head and past and showing it through short bitten nails and blackened lungs

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Feb 19, 2021

Feb 19, 2021 at 7:17 PM UTC

grxy_n_cloudy

I Am From

I am from black chipped nail polish And hand me down flannels I am from Saturday morning flapjacks And car rides with no destinations I am from secret kisses in the backseat And the soft tune of a Fleetwood Mac vinyl I am from open mics and spilling my guts through poetry And cigarette burns on second hand couches I am from the strong aroma of incense and cheap cologne And scattered ashtrays I am from sweaty strangers laying around my house And broken guitar strings I am from the sweet smell of a cigar and a new book And the hum of my old man's Volkswagens engine I am from being tortured by my own head and past and showing it through short bitten nails and blackened lungs

16

Your smell has stained my memories, burning into my fragile skull never seeming to fade. As a small child I thought it was pretty and striking, now I see the cheapness in your perfume, and your loathsome words. It is a tragedy, it is selling yourself, late night visits from strange men, and plugging your ears to block out the screaming. It is drug needles, crack pipes, living out of cars, growing up too fast, and lies and lies and lies. When I smell it now everything comes back in flashbacks and vivid nightmares. A monstrous wave of past events, emotions and experiences still so vivid it hits me and knocks me off my trembling feet gasping air into my damaged lungs. It is methadone clinics, cigarette burns, broken words, glossy eyes, cleaning up for cps, countless arrests and lies and lies and lies. Despite its damage, despite its tragedy, I'd do anything to be wrapped in it again, small and unseeing of your faults.

0

Feb 19, 2021

Feb 19, 2021 at 7:14 PM UTC

grxy_n_cloudy

Cheap Perfume, Cheap Words

Your smell has stained my memories, burning into my fragile skull never seeming to fade. As a small child I thought it was pretty and striking, now I see the cheapness in your perfume, and your loathsome words. It is a tragedy, it is selling yourself, late night visits from strange men, and plugging your ears to block out the screaming. It is drug needles, crack pipes, living out of cars, growing up too fast, and lies and lies and lies. When I smell it now everything comes back in flashbacks and vivid nightmares. A monstrous wave of past events, emotions and experiences still so vivid it hits me and knocks me off my trembling feet gasping air into my damaged lungs. It is methadone clinics, cigarette burns, broken words, glossy eyes, cleaning up for cps, countless arrests and lies and lies and lies. Despite its damage, despite its tragedy, I'd do anything to be wrapped in it again, small and unseeing of your faults.

7

Sometimes my rigid thoughts turn to glass on the way up my throat, slicing my voice box and chipping my teeth. How does one speak when the words are doing nothing, but mangling my mouth and flooding my brain?

0

Feb 19, 2021

Feb 19, 2021 at 1:12 PM UTC

grxy_n_cloudy

Sharp Words

Sometimes my rigid thoughts turn to glass on the way up my throat, slicing my voice box and chipping my teeth. How does one speak when the words are doing nothing, but mangling my mouth and flooding my brain?

7