Good Witches do not
wear dresses of peonies
they do not say
“I am a Good Witch”
they are not
caricatures of happiness
Good Witches wear
sunsets like cloaks
they run with
bare feet
exposed limbs
and snake hair
through forests and foggy minds
They jump over stone walls
laughing as the
sticks crack
beneath them
they drum their midnight black claws
against tables
as if they were raised by wolves
and divine your future
in sidewalk cracks
modern-day Cassandras,
better listen
listen
they do not say
“I am a Good Witch”
they smirk, bear fangs
forked tongues spilling magik like moonlight
and make you figure it out yourself
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
I thought about you as I took a hit,
and eyed the spot where you’d always sit.
I caught myself hating life
once, or twice, a few times
and I probably would have cried
if I wasn't so high.
I woke up this morning with dust in my eyes
and the lamp still on from last night.
The days are merged lately and I’m just floating.
I’ve been so lazy and I think it’s showing.
With you gone and all,
there’s this empty space
sorta like last fall
and the Halloween you couldn’t make.
But it kicks in and my eyes are dry
and the taste reminds me of summertime
when I caught myself in love
once or twice, a few times
but shrugged and blamed it on our lazy eyes.
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
Yeah, it was your smell that did it.
You smell like my childhood, not the scary smells though
More like the mountain air and swing sets.
And then I think your voice got stuck in my ear and echoed its way into my dreams.
Your glare terrifies me, almost as much as it reels me in.
You've gone and carried me onto your back, so I don't even know anymore..
You're all I have now.
You're all I need.
It's a bit unnerving....
Where do I begin and where do you end??
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
Your eyes are summertime
I hate summer.
Summer leaves me lonely
And so will you.
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 4:48 PM UTC
7 weeks of sadness
7 weeks of "i hate this and me and everything"
7 weeks of scars on skin
and 7 weeks of hell
7 days of perfect
7 days of "i can do anything and everything"
7 days of brash decisions
7 days of heaven
7 weeks of no and 7 days of yes
or so it seems
i think its in my head
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 5:41 PM UTC
From the way his eyes collected her details
and his feet followed her footprints
it was easy to see that he loved her.
And he waltzed through her dreams and into
her bloodstream like some sick medicine
curing what she didn't even know was sick.
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 10:47 PM UTC
Spoil her until her she's rotten and grey
Until her eyes only see roses and honey and milk and love
Tell her ugly face that she's ravishing, alluring even.
Blow her mind out the windows of her car.
And then complain about everything she is.
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 12:40 AM UTC
I want to write about the needle pins you poke on my spine
When I try, however.
I'm distracted by the parrot on my shoulder
bickering the sadness away.
He's a ******* parrot who's words mean nothing.
With a time bomb of a friendship.
He listens to the words that escape my mouth like smoke under a door and questions everything I do (as if he actually cares.)
I'll miss the parrot on my shoulder....
I forgot how life was without him.
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 11:43 PM UTC
I wouldn't want to read your mind,
I would prefer to see your mind.
To see the world through your eyes and get lost in the dark creases of your folded memories ...
To see what you see when you look into my eyes ...
That would be the real privlege
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 7:30 PM UTC
The inside of my mouth is definitely scarred
Why are my teeth so **** sharp?
The ties between us have been stretched too far,
they're beginning to tear.
I don't know where you are,
and frankly I don't care.
Why is my tongue so **** sharp?
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 6:02 PM UTC