In your little book
Of every fairytale
I am the sour witch
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 7:24 PM UTC
Thinking of you
Is reminiscent of
A rusting silver blade
Digging it’s tip
In the core of my soul
And that one ******* song
we sang to each other
plays it’s sweet melody
constantly
in the back of my thoughts
an endless loop
I told you once
I feel all your pain
and each little sting
of the tack on your wrist
sends a shiver
up my worn spine
I wish you had listened.
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 11:02 PM UTC
There’s this secret desperation
hidden in the crevice of my soul
for you to be here
with me
a comfort to keep
in the denim of my pocket
and when I come home weary
from that loud
obnoxious party
I want your embrace
the slow rising and falling
of your chest to hold me
your scent
to linger on my little black dress
your hands to rub
in small measured circles
the ***** of my worn down feet
and when it pours
the downpour thrashing
against the glass of my window
I want your presence
beside me in the antique chair
the silence
broken only by the turning
pages of our favourite books
and stolen glances
over steaming cups of tea
and when I’m crying
looking into
the dusty mirror
and wondering why
I was born with such features
picking at the flaws
I want your consoling voice
telling me I am ok
the way I am
your steady arm
helping me to my feet
and your soft fingers
brushing away the salty water
stinging at my lids
But for today I am alone
and my feet are worn
and your tea is left
to cool
and my tears
abide to flow
but my pocket remains
filled with secret thoughts
a vision of you
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 2:34 PM UTC
I'm trying so
hard to forget you
I really am
but it's especially
difficult when
your lips are
so close
and so soft
and I want
so much for them
to be pressed
against mine
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 9:10 PM UTC
I think if there is a god
He must make mistakes
Because there no way
I am meant to be
This lost
And I think I wasted
Too much energy
Pretending I love him
Because when I knelt in the chapel
My mouth spoke
"Amen"
But my mind
Thought nothing
And sometimes I think
That god is a metaphor
For the daydreams
We all have
But never really speak of
Because this world is a prison
And we're already in hell
None of this is to say
Of course
That if you died
I would not go back
To my lifeless "amen"
Because I need to believe
That you are watching over me
And not a lifeless corpse
Cold in the ground
I know I'm a coward.
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 1:08 PM UTC
I still feel a warmth
from time to time
where your soft sweet lips
pressed gently on neck
and you told me yesterday
you were giving up
and your eyes shone brightly
a twinkle of excitement
like giving up wasn't stopping
it was moving forward
and sometimes I wonder
if I held you tightly
you'd forget about the pain
of those sad nights
the flashlight blaring down
and the darkness
of your secret thoughts
but for now I'm stuck
with the memories of your kiss
and the ghost of your silhouette
in the cold sleepy stairwell
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 11:26 PM UTC
it's fascinating
that kids who grew up sheltered
are the most broken
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 8:17 PM UTC
I lie on my bed
and let the mattress
envelope my body
soft and warm
protecting me from harm
I can't help thinking of you
and how late in the night
you'd hold me close
and as I cried softly in to your shoulder
you whispered sweet nothings
in to my ear
the world a simple illusion
and your presence
the only truth I knew
The song you sang me
plays loudly in the corner
and as I cry in to my pillow
I can't help wishing it was you here
muscle and bones
not fabric and feathers
that comfort me softly
The night falls slowly
and my tears cease to shed
but the hole in my heart
bigger than the mattress
I use as your substitute
taunts me with regret
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 3:25 PM UTC
I found true happiness
When I looked in the mirror
And did not see a flawless face
But instead a face so flawed
It could only bear a joyful soul
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 5:57 PM UTC
Sometime around when we were sixteen
I fell from the roof
As we sat there together
The thump of my crashing body
Loud enough to wake your whole street
And yet there was no alarm
The Witching Hour.
You slid down slowly
From the roof where we visit
And held my head on your thighs
as I curled in to a protective ball
And stroked my hair
As I sobbed in to the night
You lifted me
Oh so gingerly
Up to your room
On to your bed
And cleaned my injured skin
And hugged me as cleared
My tearful eyes
I fell asleep that night
Your warm breath on neck
Blowing away my insecurities
The bandage you wove
Across my scratches and bruises
Ensures I am alright
Your strong hand on my side
Ensures you won't let harm come ever again
Our promise
I look back on the night
When we were just sixteen
And I remember no pain
Just your strong hand
And your warm breath
And I know I am safe.
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 12:25 AM UTC