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luckybones
luckybones
American imitation is suicide
Body asks for breath and you give it and you tell yourself again about how you are worth more than crying, cowering in the bathroom stall of your high school, its the last period class of the day Body asks for breath and you give it take a sip and another and another until you are gorged on sweet smelling drinks surrounded by people you knew once upon a time in a dream you had as a little girl Body asks for breath and you give it run from every word that has etched itself into your paper thin oxygen skin, or has eaten at the pit of your stomach- *worthless, **** horrible, inferior, inferior, inferior* Body asks for breath and you give it you've been in the dark for so long but tonight you stick your head out of the passenger window and gaze at the stars, and that song comes on - you know the one- smile erratically because you've survived for now, get lost in the song Body asks for breath and you give it, give it, give it.
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Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
On surviving
and so they searched for me under their fingernails, in the gutter, but most importantly in his arms
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 5:04 PM UTC
If I were her, where would I be?
bloodied hands rub walls of confessionals like a cheap imitation of the most beautiful stained glass theres beauty in the way you whisper my name followed by the words not good enough your body is colored in someone else's fingerprints and i've been burning my hands to shape mine in just that way kiss my lips until they crack like the sidewalks of the city that we used to dance in bare feet on dashboards, cigarettes in your mouth, and hands around my neck: a list of things that make the most sense a sunset reflecting off a mirrored building, eyes watered down until dark blue is nothing but the color of blue jeans thunderstorm veins and lighting in my skin as my jaw becomes a platform for your kiss your eyes are pools of holy water, but my lungs are full and I've been drowning for quite a long time now
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Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
lines that i cant write into poems
in distant memories, i can almost see you. thoughts as put together as a cracked mirror, a playground of stone but still! hands clasp hands, reminding my brain of times when fingers lace together, a shoelace of skin and bones and veins. Breeze blows hair an ocean lapping between toes or crumbs spilled from mouths, spread like sand over the sidewalk- a city of castles and sky Let my chest speak for me, opened, splayed, and displayed like an exhibit use your fingers and trace from rib to rib and read the story i push so far back into the grain of my bones a frightened girl, so distant and unknown much like the sea she was born from
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Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
something like a plea
My mouth is a confessional a forgive me father for i have sinned lips locked tight, secret keeper. Words split, splatter the inside of my cheeks and they slide, jagged down my throat and lips don't meet collarbones, and skin doesn't meet skin, and my body is drenched in my own fingerprints because my arms are covered in goosebumps and i'm screaming THIS IS NOT ME inside my head i will never be bold, ***** beautiful enough for you your experiences will far surpass mine, I dig my fingernails in between my lips, they creak open like the door to a dusty room... I AM NOT GOOD ENOUGH i am stuck in my own skin
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Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
****** by way of mind
I know a girl who, with a paper chest and a flimsy shield, who would climb a hundred mountain tops, and slay a thousand dragons, if it meant saving you from a single tower. Copper hair that attracts all the lightning in a thunderstorm the sky melts like an ice cream cone in july, and that blue is the exact color of her eyes. She is rain when its sunny and the beach when its snowing she contradicts herself more often then not, and she will never back down. Her beliefs are her bones, the structure behind the person she is. Big dipper freckles and smoke in her eyes Always craving adventure and just a little bit more fingers lengthy and arms shaped like paint strokes, in the face of every person who has tried to push her around, she spits and again and again as malleable as the breeze yet as strong as an army and guns may be pressed to her head, and she may be told to surrender, but all she does is smile This girl, this girl, this girl a blistered promise at legendary a banged up head and feet bespattered with tears forest fire thoughts that tear her up and burn her down A displayed chest so open, so unbelievably free rule breaker, heart stealer, ***** with a cause. I know a girl who taught me, despite being faced with endless reasons to close up, all you have to do is put a crack in the wall before it all comes tumbling down and with rapture you can break every rule you set for yourself because life is more then playing it safe this girl taught me a thing or three on the beauty of feeling, and no matter how secure it is to be guarded up and closed off, there is radiance in just letting go
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Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 12:41 PM UTC
I know a girl who...
I know a girl who, with a paper chest and a flimsy shield, who would climb a hundred mountain tops, and slay a thousand dragons, if it meant saving you from a single tower. Copper hair that attracts all the lightning in a thunderstorm the sky melts like an ice cream cone in july, and that blue is the exact color of her eyes. She is rain when its sunny and the beach when its snowing she contradicts herself more often then not, and she will never back down. Her beliefs are her bones, the structure behind the person she is. Big dipper freckles and smoke in her eyes Always craving adventure and just a little bit more fingers lengthy and arms shaped like paint strokes, in the face of every person who has tried to push her around, she spits and again and again as malleable as the breeze yet as strong as an army and guns may be pressed to her head, and she may be told to surrender, but all she does is smile This girl, this girl, this girl a blistered promise at legendary a banged up head and feet bespattered with tears forest fire thoughts that tear her up and burn her down A displayed chest so open, so unbelievably free rule breaker, heart stealer, ***** with a cause. I know a girl who taught me, despite being faced with endless reasons to close up, all you have to do is put a crack in the wall before it all comes tumbling down and with rapture you can break every rule you set for yourself because life is more then playing it safe this girl taught me a thing or three on the beauty of feeling, and no matter how secure it is to be guarded up and closed off, there is radiance in just letting go
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It was the fierceness in the way she snatched her heart from his hands and whispered to it, soft lullabies "never again, never again" he looked broken and malicious in the exact way she craved and her hands got tighter and tighter until what was between them before was not so anymore She unclenched her fists and dust slipped between those slim little piano fingers when she looked up he was already walking away
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Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
when the dust settles
15. my eyes are full of girls dumbing themselves down and begging to be mistreated by boys who will break their fragile little hearts 14. The boys would gladly break those fragile hearts for 10 minutes of skin on skin in the backseat of a car 13. Im not one of those girls 12. Im not one of those boys either 11. I value a beautiful mind over a beautiful body and thats just not how things work around here 10. i like to write poems, drink tea, watch movies, and listen to rock 9. the problem with that is thinking differently gets you shunned and mocked 8. and the amount of skin you show directly correlates to how much you are worth 7. i like to wear jeans 6. So what am I? 5.  Im more than a thousand compliments, false promises, skin, and hands 4. I like my thoughts and the outfits I wear and the half understood jokes that I make 3. I don't want to beg for someone who is intimidated by a smart girl 2. and I definitely don't want to be just "hot" 1. so I won't
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Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 9:25 PM UTC
15 reasons why i like to wear jeans
a snake of tail lights blind my eyes and my hands are blistered from crawling across glass to get back to you You are a God figure standing above me a righteous saint You're saying and doing everything you can to send me to eternal damnation a purgatory of "maybes" and "thank you's" and politeness I am not a push downer an opinion-less extra an empty brain drone im a walled up mistress no feeling having, numb as can be, teenage head case I am 3am barefoot in the sand, streetlight wearer, shoulder in my mouth and tangled hair. Im a "Breath doesn't mean anything if it isn't coming from your lungs" shunner But what good am I? I'm nothing but a mutation in a city of clones, new thoughts are gibberish if they weren't placed there by a higher power. Can you even blink without it being set out before you? eyelash plucked from a passing eye so you can make your wish authenticity in a barbie house a repeated phrase "it all belongs to you,the world, it all belongs to you"
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Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 5:40 PM UTC
The intimacy of streetlights
Grief is a misty-eyed mistress, her face soft with sadness Its one thousand fingers and palms meeting each other creating a thunder so loud in my being that i can't think straight. Grief is a five letter word, one of them an "i" none of them "u" a night full of stars in my brain working out the equation of the exact point when a person with a brain and a favorite song, food, and movie becomes nothing more then broken biased memories and a pile of bones. Sleep crusted eyes and a bottle of jim bean, cracked plates and an infinity of kitchen tables. what an empty chest, hard exhale feeling when the ghosts of your charcoal smudged fingers trace my eyelids and forehead like a canvas of your own creation but then sometimes, i can close my eyes and feel myself waist-deep in the calmest ocean, my fingertips skimming the warm water, eyes closed, the sun setting on my bare back a smile spreads ear to ear and cracks my salty lips peace im confused on what to do with the collection of rain drops and lightning gathering in my open palms so i take my hands, tip them over, and let them drop
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Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 9:30 PM UTC
An ocean building in my body