wont ask you any questions
just stick your hands inside my ribs
I'll let you hurt me
you always do
and a house is only as strong as the foundation its built upon and you've gone and done it again
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 8:47 PM UTC
She doesn't brush her hair and her eyes are the color of the devils favorite wine. When your with her you lose minutes and hours and forget the concept of time. You call her Lush, a mix of lust and rush. They said she stole everything. You tried to prove her innocent. Hold her in the palms of your hands but the girl born of water and limestone slips through your hands like sand. Your blood clots like cement and any words she speaks is an imprint. You say shes all you know but you don't know anything about her besides that she doesn't like to wear shoes and her mind is always tired from the night before. Disheveled, wild, throwing you on the unfortunate ferris wheel wanting to ruin the nature of a being who only knows nature.
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 11:58 PM UTC
semi-automatic, some would call an addict
addicted to fit descriptions of the people inside my brain
the people who i want to be, and they wash me with rain and i am thirsty but im not dying so I dont drink the storm but i drink the trying
and im not trying im existing
consisting patterns on the ceilings and the walls
blissfully and kissing my bedsheets another night of setting myself ablaze in my dreamy state, in my hazy daze
and my body is warm but the mind is cold
and its got no one to hold but its not stable enough to carry a plan and when the wind blows i become the fan and a breezy breezy palm tree on the island
always hold my own hand, and its semi-automatic
walked info traffic, and dont consider it tragic, consider it magic
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 11:54 PM UTC
I will pack up all my things and leave for the coast.
It is cold in my mind and I am
old and used and I realize I'm not wanted.
The newer things in life replace, as does each and every day, and all the things I've grown to love are a six sided pair of dice, both
snake
eyes.
Out of all the things we did,
I miss laughing
with you
the
most.
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 8:29 PM UTC
My mothers friend gave her a gift when I had yet to understand what life was like outside, a tiny prism set upon the top of a bookshelf against a small window, and when the sun would start to set it would cast beautiful rainbows against the walls.
And it would cast beautiful rainbows against the walls of my insides, making me get a taste of the outside.
The prism was prison bars.
Four by six in the pocket of my mother as I got older.
And she held me and closed the shudders of my mind and I called her smother.
Somedays the prism was reflections of the outside world reflecting on me, some days I was the prism taking in the outside world that I perceived.
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 1:25 AM UTC
Fairbanks Alaska
Was harsh and cold and was
Not as fair as it was originally thought.
A rifle too small for big game
And Galliens shoes two sizes too big on Chris’s feet
He set off for his last adventure
Hiked towards Stampede trail through the wind and ice
With nothing but a grin on his face and his ten pound bag of rice
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
there is a color for every iris
a pattern for every fabric
a cloud for every sky
a way out of every labyrinth
two hands for every handshake
A grandmother for every warm apple pie
there is someone out there for everyone
everyone but me
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 2:40 PM UTC
dark and poised
like the violet bruises on my hips
haven't eaten in days
haven't slept since
walked around early in the morning around seven
forgot who I was for awhile
I threw on a yellow sweat shirt this morning
a friend once said to me;
"Blondes can't wear yellow, it washes them out."
so I've never worn this sweater before
but I put it on and decided maybe I wanted to be washed out
washed out like my friends and
washed out because of drugs
and washed out because of depression
so i stumbled across gravel and saw a yellow dandelion growing in-between the side walk cracks
and I held open a door for a women
who paused and said
"your sweater matches your hair, how beautiful."
and my eyes started to pour like rain in February
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 10:16 AM UTC
Please forget about me
Do not worry
Do not worry
I often tell myself these things
These things
I am happy
Can't you just leave me alone
Do not worry
Do not worry
Head vs. heart is a cynical concept
It's all okay let's just forget about it
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 2:54 PM UTC
I set myself on fire and you watched me burn to ashes
among the ashes you searched for something to care about and you found absolutely nothing
I couldn't burn your hands or your mind
I couldn't leave the time frames I remember in your mind
This volcano I had felt was surely a mountain in your palms
because you never washed your hands after sorting through me
so when your lovers hold your hands
their palms will turn black
but you won't notice this because you saw absolutely nothing
never come back
never come back for one final goodbye
I am no longer a fire
there is no more wood to keep me alive
I am only ashes
and no matter what angle you look at me you will always see absolutely nothing
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 10:45 AM UTC