kaycee-hurt
Whisper
American
Poems
10
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2
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576
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atraxi
silence will follow the day / that you find me and i will / see you in mild {disarray} and
23
Nov 26, 2011
damage case: 17 seconds
*seconds1-3* / i want to take your hand and / lace it through my hair without
36
Nov 27, 2011
elevator love letter
i'm a volture with a scalpel and cropped brown hair, circling over the injured in the field as if i'll find something that will make me feel important enough to push through the failures of the past. Dark blue scrubs cling to my tired, worn out body like a second skin; at least that's what it feels like. it's my body and my being, but it's not enough for you to want me after this final mistake. / you're a *beautifulmess* ; just as cliche as everyone assumes you are. your first skin is your only one and you can't seem to understand my need for the feel of flesh giving way beneath the sharpest weapon in my artillery. it's completely different for you, a feeling like lightning coursing through your veins in the place of blood. a transfusion of mystery and obligation that you have to undertake. / he is nothing you ever thought you might want but everything you can see next to you, handing you the forceps as you do your job, working to save lives. but he's not someone you can see next to you in bed, strong arms wrapped tight around you as if he's afraid you might try to escape while he's distracted by everything you pretend to be but is really only your new transplanted face; the surgery went well by the way, even though the procedure was basically brand new. i just thought you should know.
47
Nov 26, 2011
hook, line, and sinner
she wants to make babies with sunshine and call them buttercup or maybe even [ol' sunny] boy. her mind is filled with flowers and fantasies of {*forgetme*} not's that make her half naive without a chance of bail. / she pulls wings off of lady[bug]s and collects them in mason jars made of innocence and g[rape] flavored caprisun's. without her faithful pen, she is nothing. / she prays to every deity that man has ever created and every one that will be. she wants to create her own but knows s[he] doesn't have enough faith. her every step is shadowed by something darker than her fairytale brain knows exists.
17
Nov 26, 2011
losing my religion
he's a bright sunday morning / full of hope and faith and praise / for the one you worship right
32
Nov 27, 2011
the company of myself
this room looks familiar to my untrained eyes but it's just its facade. it's really just some random room that was specifically designed to torment me into insanity. guess what? *it didn't work* / as i watch the television i realize that i'm seeing us in the fictional characters of *greys anatomy* and i'm yelling "whore" at mcdreamy while you go and spend the night with addison and alex realizes that his baby is a fictional person in the fictional world that is his own and i suppose i'm the meredith. isn't it *twisted*? / i wrote a monologue that held words of beauty (beauty) but burnt it and wrote a new one. beauty never really described you well. things like sex and alcohol and stale bread always come to mind when i think of you. (the only reason you're still alive in my head is because you won't let go)
20
Nov 27, 2011
The Lost One
Sometimes I find myself remembering things that I know were meant to be erased from my mind. / Reason; / -The pain they cause is more than mental.
29
Nov 27, 2011
There is no Arizona
Fleating words shoot through your mind, teasing you. / You race to find paper and pen but you can't find your fingers. / (And you can't find Arizona on the map)
6
Nov 27, 2011
the self-destruct button
he's the one that knows everything that is you and he is like half [*sunny*]days spent inside because he burned easily and you didn't like the feel of the medicine between your fingers when you rubbed it on his skin. / You are tired and shaky as you lie next to him on a bed filled with *[half]forgotten* ghosts and almost[remembered] stories about when he used to want to stay up late like little kids and just [talk] / He is a deformity forgotten because it doesn't [really] matter that he can't hold you the way you want him to after a long day spent taking care of him. {*it doesn't really matter*} but it does.
20
Nov 27, 2011
uncurable
you are {short}term memory loss and i am alzheimers and we fit together like broken(*glass*) / you are homeless and i am full(ofhope) without an inspirational outlet so i'm going (*sortof*)crazy without you here / you are an almost forgotten past with alcoholic breath and i am starknaked bodies scattered all over
11
Nov 27, 2011
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