The minute you said you loved me...
I don't know what I thought
Maybe it was fantasy
Maybe it was dreaming
I think I thought things would be good
Wonderful, in fact
But I realized now that
I was sort of....
Afraid
To say it back
I should have realized
That loving is something
That should be feared
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 10:06 AM UTC
once your heart tells you to do one thing and your mind tells you another, you go with what they say.
when your fingers interlock with someone else's that aren't who they're supposed to be you cringe at the thought of your feet touching at night.
once you start to believe what other people say is true, you start to disbelieve in what your teachers tell you.
contradictions make the curiosity even more unbearable, yet we still wonder around like its our job to get lost in the dark, never ending abyss of our mind and we wonder how it was even possible that we sunk so low in our self esteem where we cant get back up
and the lines that make up the picture of your sadness are carved into your skin, differing you from one another to the next and so on,
until you cant find yourself in you anymore and you go to someone else hoping to see some of yourself in their broken eyes
but you cant.
yet you still search on and on until you find one thread of yourself somewhere else and you keep pulling that until it runs out and you run out, but then what?
do you keep running or do you keep your mind set to never getting that feeling back in your gut like you got when you held that right persons hand, and when your feet touched at night.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
I woke up tangled
in my headphones.
I woke up slightly strangled,
remembering the patient tones
you used to explain to me
why I was still in love with you.
I woke up, no longer free,
not quite sure how to undo
what I said when I was sad,
and tired.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
You look depressed, stressed, oppressed,
They say.
Really? Imagine
my surprise
At their pitying eyes
I checked the mirror
To see myself clearer,
I thought I looked okay.
But soon that thought became
my own torturous little game,
and overcame my happy mind
You look stressed,
depressed,
oppressed.
You ARE stressed,
depressed,
oppressed.
Well now I am.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC
My stomach
Is full
Too full
I wonder what it would take
To get rid of it all
I feel so sick
So wrong
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 8:11 PM UTC
When I died
No one ever saw me
The wind blew through me
And I was colorless
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 11:38 PM UTC
Kissing your scars
Your beautiful memories,
trapped in thin lines across your shoulder.
You used a knife to cut them out,
and they flowed down your arm,
mingling and mixing with your beautiful blood,
red and bittersweet
and smelling of rust.
And you cry and scream,
but you can't escape yourself.
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC
The rattling jingle of a belt buckle
Your soft intake of breath
The way it caresses my face when you set it free
You trail your hands down,
Down across my ribs
Lightly trace my hip
Leave me kisses on a collarbone
I am so exposed
But I don't care
This darkness is warm
This darkness is safe
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 4:13 PM UTC
Books, books,
So many printed pages!
Whisper your sweet lies in my ear,
teach me to forget my black and white world,
with all the rules and expectations.
Let me taste the crisp morning air
in a fairytale.
Let me experience pain, longing, rage, love,
that I've never felt before.
Carry me away on a tide of ink.
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 6:26 PM UTC
Give me a Sarie tone poem
like light on a Monet haystack,
or Brazillian Astrud like a Matisse line.
Let me lie down in a half-shuttered room
in the south of France with Matisse
and the soft flutter
of heavy -feathered white doves,
their mild calls.
Only a little time, Henri,
before Picasso will come with his big boots.
We should take our afternoon.
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 4:24 PM UTC