If fire burns
and destroys
everything
in it’s path
then why
do I want
to touch
the stars
so badly
can self destruction
really be so
beautiful
Feb 2, 2023
Feb 2, 2023 at 12:49 AM UTC
I wish to write happily
about the time my boyfriend brought me flowers
and hand-wrote me notes
just to remind me how much he loved me
but I often find my pens drooling
Writing poems about the time he left
and how he broke
every promise he ever made to me instead
I remember wishing to speak
So loudly
“I’m happy”
So securely
So much so that the words might force it
For all the time I’ve spent writing in the dark
I never once thought I’d know
what it felt like to see again
One early morning
when the sun hit the pages just right
I caught a glimpse of what it might be like
to write happily
about the time I found my future
and stopped drowning in my past
I found my light
and I didn’t have to force it
Writing happily about coffee
and the mountains right in front of me
This place is a place I never thought I would be
And when I write it might not be about him
But but it’s about me
And how this place
makes me really, really happy
Feb 2, 2023
Feb 2, 2023 at 12:28 AM UTC
floating around like bees
buzzing sounds
heavy traffic
one light flickers
sleepless cities
bouncing off the walls like birds on a tree
flying from one place to the next
silence.
in the deep deep night,
silence.
morning sun
to light the day
your eyes and mine
sleepless
sleepless
sleepless
moving slowly from place to place
heavy.
birds chirping
babies crying
buzzing
buzzing
around and around
among us
loud.
louder now
but oh so quiet
Nov 28, 2021
Nov 28, 2021 at 8:19 PM UTC
Night thoughts
Swimming
Humming sounds
Wounds
Uproar
Mingling mingling
Up and down
Float
Through seas
Through words
Through nice things
Colored pictures
Paint
Higher up
Higher than that
Keep painting
Uproar
Over it
Over the noises
Over the voices
Fade into it
Over the noises
Over the voices
Under the sounds
Fade
Into it
Now
sleep
Feb 23, 2021
Feb 23, 2021 at 2:18 AM UTC
When butterflies fall in love, do they feel humans in their stomach?
Apr 1, 2020
Apr 1, 2020 at 12:05 AM UTC
Silence engulfs my surroundings as I become lost in the numbing screams of my mind. It wanders to places I don't want to go.
Apr 1, 2020
Apr 1, 2020 at 12:02 AM UTC
This time
stay.
when you stay,
stay still
Still.
Remain.
This time,
breathe
breathe crystals.
Clear.
melt
into a calming ocean.
stay still.
This time
stay
right here.
Dec 18, 2019
Dec 18, 2019 at 7:23 PM UTC
Treasures, hidden under weeping willows
Growing where the air runs wild.
Their spirit roams free.
They are like gold.
Exquisite.
Through storms,
hustling through the winds, surrounding me
they soften each gust.
My friends truly,
are are a work of art.
Dec 17, 2019
Dec 17, 2019 at 11:58 PM UTC
To understand
is to see
through her eyes
when I attempt
I fear more
like living
two unique world
me and
her world
of me..
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 3:02 AM UTC
Do you know how it feels like to have a stomach that can only survive on intimacy and nothing else?
To be prodded to love all the things that touch your skin whilst simultaneously not being
allowed or able to tell the difference between the things that love you and the things that want to leave you barren?
How it feels like to see the solemnity and grandeur of an omnipotence within all the sinless intentions of the skin cells that you'll never be allowed to hold?
Well...
It feels a lot like the romanticization of an eating disorder.
Sometimes you fall in love and then begin to forget how your organs are supposed to behave.
You look in the mirror and realize that you're still thinking about someone else when you're
Analyzing your own body.
You clutch at your own skin,
your arms,
your hair,
your throat,
and begin to try and disassemble a mind that does not want to be associated with the body that it is working in.
Before you know it,
Every time you cross the mirror you clutch more and more parts of yourself and wish that they would not feel better in somebody else's hands besides your own.
You're getting thinner everyday,
you're losing sleep
you're forgetting how to breathe,
And somewhere,
out there,
There is a boy in a place far away,
giving to someone else what you are about to be killed
without.
You realize that you turn your own bed into an ocean everytime you think about his face.
You feel the hydration of the salt water from everywhere around you,
tickling into your senses and diffusing into your nose,
but you do not taste it.
Only sense it.
You're grabbing the sheets desperately.
Holding them onto your chest, covering up your shaking body, and
almost certainly forgetting the difference between imagining the embrace of somebody who does not love you and drowning alone inside of your own bed.
You look for a lifeboat in the form of a thought that has no relation to love or association to the idea of affection.
You're hoping to find a distraction that will either save you from your peril or help you breathe in a way where you can still be conscious when there is water inside of your lungs.
You're beginning to see dark shapes and figures and all of them are sprouted by the idea
of just having a little taste of the very thing that's about to drown you.
All of the dark figures are in the shape of your face,
And nobody is here to save you.
You begin to sink,
And sink,
And sink,
and sink
and...
You are empty when you wake up.
Your chest is not an *****
but you find it funny that when it feels empty,
your stomach also wishes to feel the same way.
So you make sure it does,
Whilst yearning for a meal that does not wish to be consumed by you.
That is the only meal,
that you will never stop craving for.
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 5:53 AM UTC