this house,
this house where I cried so many tears,
this house where I drank my first bear,
this house where wounds went unattended,
this house where I was left alone
this house where my heart grew cold,
this house where the kitchen knives sang,
this house where the past called my name,
this house where I grew small,
this house that knew me,
comforted me and consumed me.
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
The first few hours reminiscing seem nice,
but dear lord what a waist that was,
thinking about how pretty your smile was,
or those big blue eyes,
such a wast,
because I wish you would have held me like you hold her,
I wish you could look at me the same,
"its okay,
I'm not upset,
shes pretty,
you two are cute together,"
I say,
but that doesn't make it hurt any less,
but you don't care,
hold her tight wile I wast some more time,
some more thought,
more effort,
just to waist this poem on you.
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
Don't take a blade and cut yourself
its not worth the blood or the pain
In the end its just the scars left on your body
and the remainder of the idiot who caused you to do it
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 11:45 PM UTC
How is it,
That I am stuck in this world,
Surrounded by these "people,"
When none of them feel human at all
Is their really a heart in that numb thing you call a body?
Is it that I'm differnt or that they're all the same.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 11:17 PM UTC
Lonely artist,
paint my wings,
and teach me to fly.
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
i will wade out
till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
Alive
with closed eyes
to dash against darkness
in the sleeping curves of my body
Shall enter fingers of smooth mastery
with chasteness of sea-girls
Will i complete the mystery
of my flesh
I will rise
After a thousand years
lipping
flowers
And set my teeth in the silver of the moon
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 3:24 PM UTC
Maybe its when the when the streets flooded with garbage,
or when innocent creatures drown in human waste,
or maybe when sanity has been driven off the cliff,
straight into to hell,
maybe then,
the world might realize that we are the cause of our own downfall.
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 3:14 PM UTC
Those who are prominently the quite ones ,
are those who,
I find,
to who see the most in life,
They see the little things that effect us in the largest of ways,
every tear shed,
and the look in your eye when you are hurt,
Take moment to notice what’s going on around you,
To listen for their silent pleads for help,
We are hurting,
We won’t tell.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC
I once heard that a good writer takes something that makes them feel and with that makes others feel,
I want to make you feel what I felt,
all the pain all the insecurities,
not to hurt you but just so that you may understand,
When we were little we all had ridiculous dreams fantasies of princesses and dragons,
and our knight in shining armor,
But quite honestly our practicalities have not changed,
Getting ready for school on this day I left to fight another dragon hoping my prince would come and save me.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC
one touch,
wouldn't be enough,
your all I want and more,
hold me tight,
all through the night,
make my body sore,
kiss my lips,
and other bits,
leave me wanting more.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 1:56 PM UTC