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mona-5
Egyptian
there's a place at the bottom of my swimming pool, at the edge of my bed, in the backseat of my car & in the old church parking lot that hold all my darkness but they're just places and when i leave them, they don't follow me i've realized that i don't have to live inside of them anymore there is chlorine that doesn't smell like the summer we spent wasted on tile floors all over portland there are sheets that don't feel like the rough skin on the back of your hand there are cars with leather seats that i don't feel nauseous peeling my thighs off of there are parking lots that aren't vacant monday-friday... parking lots lit by street lamps where no one can hurt me there's a universe outside the pain where boys with green eyes are gentle a universe where he touches my shoulder & i don't flinch, where he whispers "i like you" into the still scranton air & i believe it i lived with my limbs all tangled up in your hate for so many years but i'd cut off every last one before i'd wrap them around you again
0
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 5:45 AM UTC
severed ties
my head can be filled with red clouds with electric sparks in every corner of my skull with words floating about my conscience and sentences twisting around my brain it causes ripples in my psyche other times, my head is empty my skull is incapable of breaking, my brain unable to acknowledge pain and my cloudy mind condenses into rain that trickles down to my lungs I feel numb and unemotional I feel tired and unchallenged until the clouds form again and words wrap around my nerves a few words are pulled together as if by a magnetic, chemical force and i wonder: Is it better to feel everything or nothing at all?
0
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 5:39 AM UTC
emptiness
You want me to let you in? To call off the guards? To let down the walls? You, So passionately, want me to stop fighting so I will. I will fall violently, unadulteratedly & freely in love with you. Just like you want me to. And you'll lie in my bed all day, while I try on eight different dresses for my cousin's wedding And when you leave, I'll watch my skin shrink as I lie paralyzed in my bathtub, day dreaming about the two small freckles under the left corner of your bottom lip And the first time we argue & you spend three whole days angrily ignoring my calls, I'll chain smoke until my throat burns And when you finally decide to show up at my door with a vanilla latte and apologetic eyes, I will melt pathetically into your collarbones and all down your spine And then we will sit Indian style across from each other on my kitchen floor & you'll tell me in excruciating detail all your past lovers' infidelities and unkindnesses that led you to fight with me And that will be it That will be the exact moment when I will know, without a doubt that I am completely & entirely ****** And I will cry into your neck, knowing for sure that from then on even the most passive, nonspecific mention of your name will make my stomach float up into my chest & jolt back down into my abdomen like I'm falling from the highest point on a roller coaster And no amount of poetry, whiskey, midnight drives, nicotine, house shows or therapy will make it stop or even distract my soul from it for a ******* split second Because once I allow myself to love, I love until I break & then I keep on loving until I'm nothing And I just don't know if your conscience is strong enough to carry the weight of my shattered heart So... tell me Hazel Eyes, just how bad you actually want me to pick up that phone
0
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC
Dear boy who keeps calling even though I stopped answering five months ago,
You want me to let you in? To call off the guards? To let down the walls? You, So passionately, want me to stop fighting so I will. I will fall violently, unadulteratedly & freely in love with you. Just like you want me to. And you'll lie in my bed all day, while I try on eight different dresses for my cousin's wedding And when you leave, I'll watch my skin shrink as I lie paralyzed in my bathtub, day dreaming about the two small freckles under the left corner of your bottom lip And the first time we argue & you spend three whole days angrily ignoring my calls, I'll chain smoke until my throat burns And when you finally decide to show up at my door with a vanilla latte and apologetic eyes, I will melt pathetically into your collarbones and all down your spine And then we will sit Indian style across from each other on my kitchen floor & you'll tell me in excruciating detail all your past lovers' infidelities and unkindnesses that led you to fight with me And that will be it That will be the exact moment when I will know, without a doubt that I am completely & entirely ****** And I will cry into your neck, knowing for sure that from then on even the most passive, nonspecific mention of your name will make my stomach float up into my chest & jolt back down into my abdomen like I'm falling from the highest point on a roller coaster And no amount of poetry, whiskey, midnight drives, nicotine, house shows or therapy will make it stop or even distract my soul from it for a ******* split second Because once I allow myself to love, I love until I break & then I keep on loving until I'm nothing And I just don't know if your conscience is strong enough to carry the weight of my shattered heart So... tell me Hazel Eyes, just how bad you actually want me to pick up that phone
Continue reading...
97
I watched my best friend's eyes well up with the burning words of his ex girlfriend; I watched her trickle down his cheek bones & all over his blue t-shirt; I tried to wipe her away with my finger tips, But I was too late. She had stained him, From head to toe he was drenched in her And even if I had caught her Before she even touched his skin, I don't think I would've been able to keep him clean Because my hands were ***** too With the grotesque words Of my ex boyfriend So we'll just sit here, An other year unchanged A deck of cards & a bottle of whiskey In the space between our knee caps; Staring into each other's pain, Strewn recklessly over my bedroom floor We'll just sit here, Filthy together for an other year Of scrubbing the wasted passion from our bones
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Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 10:49 AM UTC
Filthy
A beautifully ordered sequence of words. A combination of letters, stringed together into thoughts, translated into ideas and emotions, thrown onto paper. A delicate, fragile, yet unbreakable truth that enters your mind, and runs down to your bones. Books are characters and themes and mental experiences offered to you when you are displeased with Earth. When you would rather be in a world secured, confined to a selection of papers brought to you in one piece. A beautifully binded collection of thoughts carefully protected by a hard, colourful cover, with a simple label: A 'title' and 'author', so you know where you're going, and exactly who is taking you there. Flick through the pages, embark on your journey. Here: this front cover is your ticket.
0
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 8:29 AM UTC
a string of letters
Your eyes, blue as the sky, soft as the clouds. A palette of shades layered like spiralled concentric circles. They overlap like waves softy crashing within the glittery sea. They draw me into the warm, comforting water. They're fun, and busy like summers and colours and timeless days where the present does not acknowledge the past or the future. Your eyes, fun as the sea, blue as the clear water, make me feel comfortable, safe and secure. As I soak in their freedom, I feel the rush of the sea spreading through my body, my heart, my soul, my feelings for you. Your eyes are as beautiful as the sea. But your eyes, deep as the ocean, dark and dangerous as its depth, they pick me apart and vandalise me. They scare me, hurt me, confuse me, and disgust me. I hate being picked apart by the whirlpools of your eyes. Stop them from spinning my emotions round, and round and round. They throw me into a wave of evil, plunging me to my shipwreck of a heart and watching me sink, all the way to my deepest of fears. Blink. The ocean washes over me and I float into a beautifully blue sea. The change of setting confuses me, because your eyes continue to control me still. I stare into your eyes, diving into the countless shades of blue, as I realise: The ocean is much more powerful than the sea.
0
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 9:44 AM UTC
Your eyes