jane-doe-5 - Hello Poetry

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.

0

May 10, 2014

May 10, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC

Slightly strangled

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.

10

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.

0

Apr 29, 2014

Apr 29, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC

You are, aren't you?

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.

18

My stomach Is full Too full I wonder what it would take To get rid of it all I feel so sick So wrong

0

Apr 29, 2014

Apr 29, 2014 at 8:11 PM UTC

Sick of food..sick of fat

My stomach Is full Too full I wonder what it would take To get rid of it all I feel so sick So wrong

7

When I died No one ever saw me The wind blew through me And I was colorless

0

Mar 22, 2014

Mar 22, 2014 at 11:38 PM UTC

When I died

When I died No one ever saw me The wind blew through me And I was colorless

4

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.

0

Mar 1, 2014

Mar 1, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC

Kissing your scars

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.

10

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

0

Mar 1, 2014

Mar 1, 2014 at 4:13 PM UTC

This darkness

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

11

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.

0

Dec 16, 2013

Dec 16, 2013 at 6:26 PM UTC

Printed Greed

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.

10

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.

0

Dec 9, 2013

Dec 9, 2013 at 4:24 PM UTC

The fine things worth wishing for

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.

11

Take off your pants Nothing will happen. Unless you want it to. Take off your pants I love you It's your choice, no further than you want Just take off your **** pants

0

Dec 7, 2013

Dec 7, 2013 at 12:44 PM UTC

Untitled

Take off your pants Nothing will happen. Unless you want it to. Take off your pants I love you It's your choice, no further than you want Just take off your **** pants

6

I like boys (I think) And I'm dating one But... If she kissed me. Kissed me.... I would kiss her back God, would I kiss her back

0

Dec 7, 2013

Dec 7, 2013 at 1:56 AM UTC

Her. Just her.

I like boys (I think) And I'm dating one But... If she kissed me. Kissed me.... I would kiss her back God, would I kiss her back

8