honeyangelic - Hello Poetry

Rose blush, tinted baby rouge underneath her skin. I thought I saw her smile, but it was only her wincing in pain.

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May 10, 2014

May 10, 2014 at 8:57 PM UTC

Rose blush, tinted baby rouge underneath her skin. I thought I saw her smile, but it was only her wincing in pain.

I wake up in the morning questioning the infinite cracks on my bedroom ceiling. There is a crack up there for each time you leave. I ask them if they know the reasons as to why I feel undone. The foundation of the room searches for an answer in its faults only to find that behind the paint lies nothing but rotting wood. I feel naked. A resting foreigner on the bed that I made as I lay fully clothed in a nightgown I can feel settling into my skin. I feel ill. ***** settles on my tongue the same way spit does when your mouth waters for something you long for. Some mornings my body becomes a corset that relies on you to tie the knots and by the afternoon I find myself stranded in tangled knots of indented flesh and exhaustion.

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May 3, 2014

May 3, 2014 at 4:28 PM UTC

Woken

I wake up in the morning questioning the infinite cracks on my bedroom ceiling. There is a crack up there for each time you leave. I ask them if they know the reasons as to why I feel undone. The foundation of the room searches for an answer in its faults only to find that behind the paint lies nothing but rotting wood. I feel naked. A resting foreigner on the bed that I made as I lay fully clothed in a nightgown I can feel settling into my skin. I feel ill. ***** settles on my tongue the same way spit does when your mouth waters for something you long for. Some mornings my body becomes a corset that relies on you to tie the knots and by the afternoon I find myself stranded in tangled knots of indented flesh and exhaustion.

1

I was told my wings would sprout at the right time, when I needed them the most. I keep leaping off balconies and rooftops, hoping that they will spring out of my spine. I have broken bones hoping, but once fractures heal I jump again. Disappointment never felt this good.

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May 3, 2014

May 3, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC

Endless wings

I was told my wings would sprout at the right time, when I needed them the most. I keep leaping off balconies and rooftops, hoping that they will spring out of my spine. I have broken bones hoping, but once fractures heal I jump again. Disappointment never felt this good.

1

His old shoes were always on in bed, but he left his mind outside the bedroom door. He told me, "There is no need for it where I am planning to go." I want to know where he travels to when those eyelids rest. I imagine it a place where it snows in the summer. A woodland area where leaves fall upwards toward the sky and collect on the clouds.

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May 3, 2014

May 3, 2014 at 4:23 PM UTC

Dreaming

His old shoes were always on in bed, but he left his mind outside the bedroom door. He told me, "There is no need for it where I am planning to go." I want to know where he travels to when those eyelids rest. I imagine it a place where it snows in the summer. A woodland area where leaves fall upwards toward the sky and collect on the clouds.

1

You can be the river flowing down my skin, but how do I begin to tread waters that I have once drowned in before? You make sinking feel like a dance with the sea. Waves do not always come before the breakdown, but somewhere there is a storm and my heart is always sighing at me. Puddles, puddles of ash. Dear love, I am burning on the inside, and I have grown so used to the sting. You can be the river flowing down my skin. You can be the river flowing down my skin.

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May 3, 2014

May 3, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC

Dear love

You can be the river flowing down my skin, but how do I begin to tread waters that I have once drowned in before? You make sinking feel like a dance with the sea. Waves do not always come before the breakdown, but somewhere there is a storm and my heart is always sighing at me. Puddles, puddles of ash. Dear love, I am burning on the inside, and I have grown so used to the sting. You can be the river flowing down my skin. You can be the river flowing down my skin.

12

My heart cracked a little on the inside. My ribcage caved from smooth words that slipped down my throat like angel nectar. On the inside a girl stands there with clairvoyant eyes and a hushed tongue, but at the center there is a hollowness that remains. The small things in my life slip through my fingertips so easily. I cannot catch them. Catch them. or Catch up. Catch up to the feelings that I leave on the doorstep of my eyelids. Since then I try to fill the cracks, the gaps, the spaces that yearn to feel the fullness I felt when I was a ripened fruit ready to burst into maggots and sweetened sap.

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May 3, 2014

May 3, 2014 at 4:09 PM UTC

angel nectar

My heart cracked a little on the inside. My ribcage caved from smooth words that slipped down my throat like angel nectar. On the inside a girl stands there with clairvoyant eyes and a hushed tongue, but at the center there is a hollowness that remains. The small things in my life slip through my fingertips so easily. I cannot catch them. Catch them. or Catch up. Catch up to the feelings that I leave on the doorstep of my eyelids. Since then I try to fill the cracks, the gaps, the spaces that yearn to feel the fullness I felt when I was a ripened fruit ready to burst into maggots and sweetened sap.

16