I'm eighteen now
and I have never been so selfish
I miss being afraid of things that
could never touch me but now
ballot boxes
and white men wearing suits
with red ties
keep me up at night
because my future is more
than an election
my head is full of
empty rooms where I assumed
you would want to be
and I want to know why I
fall in love with
places not people
wants not needs
words not actions
and you most of all.
I need you to teach me how to say goodbye
to all of the things that
aren't good for me before it's too late
I am only eighteen.
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 9:56 AM UTC
buried beneath
a deserted tombstone
a defective angel
slowly turning to air
with eyes horribly alive
cradled in the coldness of hell
bitter innocence tangled her skeleton
blinded by the dark inside
rocked by the march of silence
flooding depth concealed her screams
arrested in a fit
always cold, always
death had devoured her
the cold went into her heart
she was such a good child.
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
You asked me if
I was sad on purpose
when I'm just a carving block
and your fingertips blades.
and my flesh is another
layer you could break through
so you did.
I had to find out bed sheets are really just
a veil of innocence when lifted looks
like regret.
I am a shallow grave
that you dug
knowing I could
never dig myself out.
and you asked me if
I was sad on purpose.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
You told me not to worry but you never told me how. Somehow I see you even when you aren't here. I understand why you left I just wanted you to tell me why. I still think about what happened and I still think it was my fault. I want to ask you what it felt like to hear me cry and if she's what you thought about when you were holding me. But all I have is Good Bye.
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 11:42 PM UTC
she only liked things
that were covered in
blood and begging her
to stop.
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 11:21 PM UTC
It's not the dark that scares me
or what is under my bed
it's who's in it
because I know myself
and that's the worst part.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 9:50 PM UTC
Everything I write
reads like you
but reflects me.
all that I can
get down on paper
is how easy it was
to say sorry and then
nothing at all
I want to find out
what it is about you
that makes my fingers
itch for a pen
when I know they're
all out of ink
I don't think I
really know anything
at all but I want to know you
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 5:20 PM UTC
I'm sixteen
and I think I love you
I want you to save me
because I can't save myself
I hide behind
a full plate
and a notebook
covered in words
that you will never
understand
you took everything
from me because you
knew I loved you
that much.
The leaves are
changing and so am I.
Every pen I own has
ran out of ink
I hate that I said
it was okay when
it wasn't because
I wasn't.
It's winter now
and nothing
has changed.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC
I wanted to do everything
with you so I could pretend that
I hadn't already
I thought
it would fix me
but that's not how things work
I was still sad when
you touched me
Probably because
I didn't even feel it
and
when you told me
that you loved me
I heard your voice
crack
it's 3a.m. now and
I keep saying to myself
this is just how things work
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 1:25 PM UTC
There was no preparation
certainly no expectation
The airbag skid against
my skin, burning exposed chunks of flesh .
jagged pieces of glass shattered all around me.
carving and slashing into me
Overhead a streetlight sat unharmed almost
igniting the scene like a morbid film.
Crimson blood ran down my face
and flowed like a leaky faucet onto my lap
I think there’s something
about touching death
that makes you feel life
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC