Tick tick
The clock goes tick
Those ticks make me twich
My nails I pick
Time pulls me out of the real
Each tick makes it hard to deal
Anxiety I feel
My nails I peal
Slipping power
I fall off my tower
Pressure building this hour
My nails fall like petals from a flower
My mind wants to race
But the ticks go at a steady pace
Stress I have to face
My nails are gone leaving no trace
Each mistake runs through my brain
Each leaving a unique stain
Hard to express the internal pain
My short, clean nails make me sane
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
Click click click goes the lighter
I stare at my beautiful back bone as she breaks a part
She takes her poison just the way I taught her
But is time with her new lighter
Click click click
Tears run down her soft face
Click
Her nervous tick gets slower
No please keep going
When she clicks the lighter at least her mind is on something else
Just for that split second
Look forward, only a little longer
Why can't I help you like you helped me
I want to hear you trucking on strong
Click click click
That's better
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 2:44 AM UTC
I am from hair ties, but no longer rely on them, from conditioner bottles but no longer need them, from dance mirrors that let me watch others make mistakes so I would not repeat them
I am from the same town and house I grew up in
I am from people pleasing
From taking their opinion over my own
I am from addiction, from the twelve steps, and sickness
I am from the questions why and how
I am from three years sober, and from I love you
From hard work over happiness, and family over pride
I am from the Catholic Church, even though I don't agree, rosaries and Hail Maries, are what my family brought me up to be
I am from whiskey lullabies, from watching my hero drink away trust and hit rock bottom
I am from forgiveness and letting go, to watch my Mufasa come back stronger and brighter
I am from writing, from discoveries, and not letting anybody get in the way of my goal
I am from the church, but no longer rely on it, from my parents but no longer need them, from alcoholism that let me watch others make mistakes so I would not repeat them
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 2:15 AM UTC
Cotton Candy Cigarettes
The burning embers of the sweet treat
Morning spark, radiating smell
Glowing memories of heart break, late night with friends, and of course the innocent "just one" on forth of July
Succulent smog
Breathing in worries and letting out the feeling of hakuna matata
Sticky smelly fingers
The brown syrup still clings on to the tips of my hands just as a reminder of the addictive sugar
The sweet start of cotton candy dependence
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
It is complicated
Not even that
My mistakes made me isolated
I went from oxygen to gnat
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 1:12 PM UTC
Time heals everything
Hate turns to love
To realize you had something
Time turns a gun to a dove
I'm sorry's are pushed away
Even though you want it more than anything on earth
Apologies are full of grey
I'm sorry's no longer have any worth
I was compared to a simple, deadly car crash
Was told life could be a ride
Until I caused that bash
I was compared with a metaphor with very little pride
I took those five jobs
Chose work over love
I mimicked those snobs
I took that money thinking I was above
What I thought I had is gone
But there is always hope
Love is not something to pawn
What I thought I had had now left me to mope
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 1:26 PM UTC