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iris-haze
iris-haze
New York, New York not really sure why but it seems that words soothe me, so I write and hope that they might soothe others too.
Yellow is my heart, Yellow is my blood, Yellow is the flood that drowns me slowly. It tells me to grow As if there were any comfort in that Go with the flow As if there were any comfort in not knowing. I have lied to myself so much If I didn’t have to I and I would never reconcile. Yellow is my bed, Yellow is my stomach, Yellow is the bucket that stays dry. It shows me all the pain I have not had As if there were any comfort in that. You do not need to cry As if there were any comfort in that. I have ***** myself so many times, If I didn’t have to I and I would die at the sight of the other. Yellow is my breath, It smells a bit like stale wine, Yellow is my mind It looks a bit stained with too much time, Yellow is my heart, Vacant, Yellow is my blood, Ambulant. I promised not to promise anymore, And you keep telling me to let go, That you know, But the walls of your home are still standing, And I have a tendency of losing things, Like my keys, My father, Myself. Why is it that I need to show my pain for it to be recognized? No Why is it that the sun still shines even when it lies? Why is my sorrow dismissed just because I try. I try and I will try again, That doesn’t mean I feel less pain. I feel pain. I feel pain. I feel pain. I feel pain. He left me for no reason. I’ve learned that you can give the world to someone and end up with nothing. It just stays stuck in the empty space between two people. You know it by heart. It’s the same place as where the broken promises lie. Why the **** do I still try if only those who’ve given up get medals, if only those who’ve given up are beautiful when they cry, if only those who’ve given up are allowed to die. I started hating the brightest parts of myself because as much as people love light they only find comfort in darkness. And I find life in it. And all of my light is flooding through my bones, My broken bones, It’s the only thing I want to let go of. I promised not to promise anymore. I put away that little box of gold, Let it shatter on the floor, If I break things well enough they can’t walk away from me anymore. I am only stating what I am afraid of, I am painting myself in ink, painting myself in yellow. I am but a symptom of my own fear. And it tells me to grow. It tells me to grow. Yellow. So I do. So I do.
0
Jul 19, 2017
Jul 19, 2017 at 2:15 PM UTC
yellow
Yellow is my heart, Yellow is my blood, Yellow is the flood that drowns me slowly. It tells me to grow As if there were any comfort in that Go with the flow As if there were any comfort in not knowing. I have lied to myself so much If I didn’t have to I and I would never reconcile. Yellow is my bed, Yellow is my stomach, Yellow is the bucket that stays dry. It shows me all the pain I have not had As if there were any comfort in that. You do not need to cry As if there were any comfort in that. I have ***** myself so many times, If I didn’t have to I and I would die at the sight of the other. Yellow is my breath, It smells a bit like stale wine, Yellow is my mind It looks a bit stained with too much time, Yellow is my heart, Vacant, Yellow is my blood, Ambulant. I promised not to promise anymore, And you keep telling me to let go, That you know, But the walls of your home are still standing, And I have a tendency of losing things, Like my keys, My father, Myself. Why is it that I need to show my pain for it to be recognized? No Why is it that the sun still shines even when it lies? Why is my sorrow dismissed just because I try. I try and I will try again, That doesn’t mean I feel less pain. I feel pain. I feel pain. I feel pain. I feel pain. He left me for no reason. I’ve learned that you can give the world to someone and end up with nothing. It just stays stuck in the empty space between two people. You know it by heart. It’s the same place as where the broken promises lie. Why the **** do I still try if only those who’ve given up get medals, if only those who’ve given up are beautiful when they cry, if only those who’ve given up are allowed to die. I started hating the brightest parts of myself because as much as people love light they only find comfort in darkness. And I find life in it. And all of my light is flooding through my bones, My broken bones, It’s the only thing I want to let go of. I promised not to promise anymore. I put away that little box of gold, Let it shatter on the floor, If I break things well enough they can’t walk away from me anymore. I am only stating what I am afraid of, I am painting myself in ink, painting myself in yellow. I am but a symptom of my own fear. And it tells me to grow. It tells me to grow. Yellow. So I do. So I do.
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71
That is my biggest weapon, I am completely outrageously, beautifully, terrifyingly mad. How did I get here? I have un buttoned my chest and unfolded my lungs presenting them to you. Hoping maybe you would help me breathe easy. I’m so tired of having to fight all the time, for the things I want, and the things I don’t want. I’m so tired, sometime I cry when I wake up. How could anyone ever love something as easy as me? Yes, I suppose I am easy, I believe everything I am told with hopeful eyes, I see everything covered in gold and hold anything as a treasure. I do not know if that makes me wealthier or not. I wish I knew what making love felt like, if anyone knows that at all. I keep dreaming that I see him again. But in my dream when I held him we merged into one being, and I wept or he wept but I left him there because I wanted something new, Something that didn’t feel so beautifully harmful. But would you listen to me I'm lying. I do not want simplicity, I have never wanted simplicity , I will never be simplicity please, please, please fall in love with me. There will always be more to see, things to find and uncover and I will make you eternal, turn you into ink and paper, make your existence tangible. You believe you know the meaning of life for there is none, but I disagree. The only meaning is to take something incomplete and turn it into something worth its content. I am humiliated, my insides flooding out of me, melting from my inside out. Just like the night light I had on my bed side ad a child, the one that started melting night after night with my parent’s fight after fight. I did not want to sleep anymore, if I didn’t sleep it didn’t melt and we would never have left. I do not sleep. please do not humiliate me. Do not sow my chest to your feet and drag me into you our bed sheet where you unbutton your chest and lay within someone else’s. Be careful, I am easy. Easy enough to love anything but easy enough to destroy anything too. That is my biggest weapon, I am completely, outrageously, beautifully, terrifyingly mad. mad mad mad mad mad and loving. That is my biggest weapon, I am completely outrageously, beautifully, terrifyingly mad.
0
Jul 19, 2017
Jul 19, 2017 at 2:11 PM UTC
understanding rejection- unbuttoned chests
That is my biggest weapon, I am completely outrageously, beautifully, terrifyingly mad. How did I get here? I have un buttoned my chest and unfolded my lungs presenting them to you. Hoping maybe you would help me breathe easy. I’m so tired of having to fight all the time, for the things I want, and the things I don’t want. I’m so tired, sometime I cry when I wake up. How could anyone ever love something as easy as me? Yes, I suppose I am easy, I believe everything I am told with hopeful eyes, I see everything covered in gold and hold anything as a treasure. I do not know if that makes me wealthier or not. I wish I knew what making love felt like, if anyone knows that at all. I keep dreaming that I see him again. But in my dream when I held him we merged into one being, and I wept or he wept but I left him there because I wanted something new, Something that didn’t feel so beautifully harmful. But would you listen to me I'm lying. I do not want simplicity, I have never wanted simplicity , I will never be simplicity please, please, please fall in love with me. There will always be more to see, things to find and uncover and I will make you eternal, turn you into ink and paper, make your existence tangible. You believe you know the meaning of life for there is none, but I disagree. The only meaning is to take something incomplete and turn it into something worth its content. I am humiliated, my insides flooding out of me, melting from my inside out. Just like the night light I had on my bed side ad a child, the one that started melting night after night with my parent’s fight after fight. I did not want to sleep anymore, if I didn’t sleep it didn’t melt and we would never have left. I do not sleep. please do not humiliate me. Do not sow my chest to your feet and drag me into you our bed sheet where you unbutton your chest and lay within someone else’s. Be careful, I am easy. Easy enough to love anything but easy enough to destroy anything too. That is my biggest weapon, I am completely, outrageously, beautifully, terrifyingly mad. mad mad mad mad mad and loving. That is my biggest weapon, I am completely outrageously, beautifully, terrifyingly mad.
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23
I never wanted to be a hotel room and though you were always the only resident the hotel coffee stained my lungs with estranged men and the sheets smelled of hidden places and hidden people we made love like it was a crime latching on to emergency handles hoping something would have the strength to pull us apart but nothing human ever could I wish I had never met anything as human as you you turned my insides into a graveyard where our hotel love was buried and now my hidden place is where estranged men go to die resting their body on my body, last breath caught between my lips you will always hate the room you felt could have been your own I will always hate the man who left the door open when leaving open to the hidden men in hidden places now you are still complete sometimes missing a room in France I am infected with men who took your exit as a welcome and parts of me that rot slowly with the guilt you left me to live with I told you to leave, it is my fault but you, you couldn’t understand that my skin was made of tissue and you were permanent marker promising to tread lightly as you slowly started tearing my childhood to shreds, and I looked like a city after a tornado and you looked at me like you were an artist and I, torn was a masterpiece and still I was so afraid to hurt you. and every trace you left on my skin with your finger print was another thing I would go home to hide from my mother’s eyes I couldn’t sit in her touch anymore because it was wrong for anyone to touch me but you you could not be my anchor and lover and mother and friend I never wanted to be a hotel room I was supposed to be a home and I know you wanted that too but how the **** am I supposed to be a home if my hotel sheets now smell like you.
0
Jul 19, 2017
Jul 19, 2017 at 2:02 PM UTC
hotel
I never wanted to be a hotel room and though you were always the only resident the hotel coffee stained my lungs with estranged men and the sheets smelled of hidden places and hidden people we made love like it was a crime latching on to emergency handles hoping something would have the strength to pull us apart but nothing human ever could I wish I had never met anything as human as you you turned my insides into a graveyard where our hotel love was buried and now my hidden place is where estranged men go to die resting their body on my body, last breath caught between my lips you will always hate the room you felt could have been your own I will always hate the man who left the door open when leaving open to the hidden men in hidden places now you are still complete sometimes missing a room in France I am infected with men who took your exit as a welcome and parts of me that rot slowly with the guilt you left me to live with I told you to leave, it is my fault but you, you couldn’t understand that my skin was made of tissue and you were permanent marker promising to tread lightly as you slowly started tearing my childhood to shreds, and I looked like a city after a tornado and you looked at me like you were an artist and I, torn was a masterpiece and still I was so afraid to hurt you. and every trace you left on my skin with your finger print was another thing I would go home to hide from my mother’s eyes I couldn’t sit in her touch anymore because it was wrong for anyone to touch me but you you could not be my anchor and lover and mother and friend I never wanted to be a hotel room I was supposed to be a home and I know you wanted that too but how the **** am I supposed to be a home if my hotel sheets now smell like you.
Continue reading...
34
Its morning, And the clouds are filling up my lungs But I don’t want to breathe today. I just want to stay in bed, let my covers smother me. I don’t want to speak today Ill just let my pillows feed me lies. Its okay to give up on living but still be alive Ill just watch the world as it keeps on spinning But behind. I don’t want to walk today. I can’t handle the ground kicking me back to weak, Ill just rest my knees on the stained mattress that has lured me to believe all I have is sleep. There’s a feather in the sky, And I watch until it falls to my feet, Ill pick it up to brush off the sheet of dust That has gathered on my tired, tired cheek. Its morning again, I don’t want the sun to rise- Today it burns like failed tries Ill suffocate my skin in sweet perfume, To hide the smell of decaying, empty fume.
0
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 5:44 PM UTC
MORNING, AGAIN