s-i-am - Hello Poetry

"Describe me" "Describe me", he says. He practically whispers it in my ear, spider legs crawl along my spine. Brown hair, not very dark, but not light either. Cut short, so short the feeling of small spikes, buzzed. Skin, pale. A living color yet light enough to see through when searched for. Eyes are hazel, closer to brown. I wonder if they have ever cried since back then? Not black orbs that are too dark for any light, but neither light enough to see something shoking behind them. Muddied, an aray of colors, which color is true? Nose is standard but used to smelling blood I bet, like a shark. Lips pursed into a thin, pink line. Do you ever smile or only wear that mischeivous and knowing smirk? Body and limbs, strong and long, fidgeting at your sides. Hands, so cold but burn everything you touch. Your hands can heal as much as they bruise. Put a comforting touch on a wounded knee, then reach a little higher. Higher and higher, hands are never satisfied, always hungry, always wanting more. Touching things that they are not allowed to touch. Breath burns my skin. I exhale and speak.

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Jan 6, 2017

Jan 6, 2017 at 6:00 PM UTC

Describe Me

"Describe me" "Describe me", he says. He practically whispers it in my ear, spider legs crawl along my spine. Brown hair, not very dark, but not light either. Cut short, so short the feeling of small spikes, buzzed. Skin, pale. A living color yet light enough to see through when searched for. Eyes are hazel, closer to brown. I wonder if they have ever cried since back then? Not black orbs that are too dark for any light, but neither light enough to see something shoking behind them. Muddied, an aray of colors, which color is true? Nose is standard but used to smelling blood I bet, like a shark. Lips pursed into a thin, pink line. Do you ever smile or only wear that mischeivous and knowing smirk? Body and limbs, strong and long, fidgeting at your sides. Hands, so cold but burn everything you touch. Your hands can heal as much as they bruise. Put a comforting touch on a wounded knee, then reach a little higher. Higher and higher, hands are never satisfied, always hungry, always wanting more. Touching things that they are not allowed to touch. Breath burns my skin. I exhale and speak.

13

Deep down, 50 feet underwater down, down in the depths of the water did your brother drown And did you cry for him? did you mourn his loss? watching your momma take a needle to arm if only to forget Knowing that she lays on her back to pay the bills son, where is your father? Your tears became scars, your hurt became claws And there you are tearing my apart, ripped at the seams places I can't be touched, they can't see I didnt mean to let you in, I didn't know better Too young to understand, looks too grown for her own good Oh dear boy you have a beast in your heart Ripped my skin apart, but have no evidence to prove it beyond it all, you had already won You didnt need to **** me, and you didnt you didnt need to touch me, oh but you did Oh, you have a beast in your heart poor boy, a beast in your heart

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Jan 6, 2017

Jan 6, 2017 at 5:48 PM UTC

Beast in Your Heart

Deep down, 50 feet underwater down, down in the depths of the water did your brother drown And did you cry for him? did you mourn his loss? watching your momma take a needle to arm if only to forget Knowing that she lays on her back to pay the bills son, where is your father? Your tears became scars, your hurt became claws And there you are tearing my apart, ripped at the seams places I can't be touched, they can't see I didnt mean to let you in, I didn't know better Too young to understand, looks too grown for her own good Oh dear boy you have a beast in your heart Ripped my skin apart, but have no evidence to prove it beyond it all, you had already won You didnt need to **** me, and you didnt you didnt need to touch me, oh but you did Oh, you have a beast in your heart poor boy, a beast in your heart

21

If you are loved by a writer, I do not believe that you will ever really die For you live in every work they have ever written, poetry in their minds that they share with the minds of others. Your breath is on each pen stroke, your image on each letter. Your scent captured by the yellowing pages and soul can be found in the corners of each paper. Your love recorded and felt by many, touching people who you have never met. And even when you die, and the heart of your beloved writer stops beating, you live on in the words they have written. You become immortal.

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Jul 23, 2016

Jul 23, 2016 at 5:37 PM UTC

To Be Loved By A Writer

If you are loved by a writer, I do not believe that you will ever really die For you live in every work they have ever written, poetry in their minds that they share with the minds of others. Your breath is on each pen stroke, your image on each letter. Your scent captured by the yellowing pages and soul can be found in the corners of each paper. Your love recorded and felt by many, touching people who you have never met. And even when you die, and the heart of your beloved writer stops beating, you live on in the words they have written. You become immortal.

7

I look at her, waiting for her to say something. her voice is a sound I crave, loving it when she screams. I loved her tongue, which used to belong to me, it tasted like red candy apples, the ones you get at a carnival. the cinnamon would claw at the back of my throat, but I didn't care I couldn't get enough. your eyes are light, almost too light, blindingly so where mine are dark, like the other side of the moon. and how ironic is it that the universe would have us collide? I huff what? she says. I notice her eyes are starting to lose their color pale blue fading to grey, the color of a corpse. I speak leaving your body covered in marks. I didn't mean to cut you, to make you bleed, to cause you pain but I have a bad habit of destroying things are are not mine. now your covered in red clay, I've painted you copper. she speaks don't leave I say, my hand extending forward I burn her, but didn't mean to the monster in my heart did that, not me she screams from the touch I should feel remorse but how can I when her scream sounds so lovely? I can't bring myself to explain she turns away, but I don't want her to go please, save me I plead She doesn't turn to face me again but I know her eyes are white now, purer than the color of bone. she leaves anyway leaving me alone with her fading presence still lingering in the room, enough to form a memory to bind her to. she's might be gone but in my mind, she is there with the others, treasures I keep close. I place her wings in my trophy case.

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May 16, 2016

May 16, 2016 at 2:44 PM UTC

Light Eyes Pt.2

I look at her, waiting for her to say something. her voice is a sound I crave, loving it when she screams. I loved her tongue, which used to belong to me, it tasted like red candy apples, the ones you get at a carnival. the cinnamon would claw at the back of my throat, but I didn't care I couldn't get enough. your eyes are light, almost too light, blindingly so where mine are dark, like the other side of the moon. and how ironic is it that the universe would have us collide? I huff what? she says. I notice her eyes are starting to lose their color pale blue fading to grey, the color of a corpse. I speak leaving your body covered in marks. I didn't mean to cut you, to make you bleed, to cause you pain but I have a bad habit of destroying things are are not mine. now your covered in red clay, I've painted you copper. she speaks don't leave I say, my hand extending forward I burn her, but didn't mean to the monster in my heart did that, not me she screams from the touch I should feel remorse but how can I when her scream sounds so lovely? I can't bring myself to explain she turns away, but I don't want her to go please, save me I plead She doesn't turn to face me again but I know her eyes are white now, purer than the color of bone. she leaves anyway leaving me alone with her fading presence still lingering in the room, enough to form a memory to bind her to. she's might be gone but in my mind, she is there with the others, treasures I keep close. I place her wings in my trophy case.

36

you look at me waiting to hear the next word what do you want me to say? my tongue is a bridge between truth and lies, each word delicately placed but still at the edge of falling. eyes shoot down only to look back up again. moons dance in your eyes and I can't seem to touch them. heat is pressed against me, insects crawl on my skin. you huff what? I say as my head snaps up you look at me again, moons are morphing into constellations and I can't see you. your tongue is sharp as it cuts me from left to right. so sharp that I don't notice the pain not until I see the trickle of blood flow across my pale skin, I am the canvas you painted. I am covered in rust, like an old car left outside for too long forgotten as these years. I need to wash myself don't leave you say, with your hand reaching out, you touch my arm and I holler in pain a burn mark where you touched me so softly. I look up, there are no longer stars gleaming, sparkling against the night sky but black voids in your eyes. I need to leave my hand grazes the golden door **** the gold is soaking into my skin. please, save me you say sounding so smooth, so rehearsed. I don't look back as the door behind me shuts my eyes are open but suddenly I see.

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May 16, 2016

May 16, 2016 at 2:41 PM UTC

Dark Eyes Pt.1

you look at me waiting to hear the next word what do you want me to say? my tongue is a bridge between truth and lies, each word delicately placed but still at the edge of falling. eyes shoot down only to look back up again. moons dance in your eyes and I can't seem to touch them. heat is pressed against me, insects crawl on my skin. you huff what? I say as my head snaps up you look at me again, moons are morphing into constellations and I can't see you. your tongue is sharp as it cuts me from left to right. so sharp that I don't notice the pain not until I see the trickle of blood flow across my pale skin, I am the canvas you painted. I am covered in rust, like an old car left outside for too long forgotten as these years. I need to wash myself don't leave you say, with your hand reaching out, you touch my arm and I holler in pain a burn mark where you touched me so softly. I look up, there are no longer stars gleaming, sparkling against the night sky but black voids in your eyes. I need to leave my hand grazes the golden door **** the gold is soaking into my skin. please, save me you say sounding so smooth, so rehearsed. I don't look back as the door behind me shuts my eyes are open but suddenly I see.

30

She was a dancer And I a writer Born of the same day But different hours Barely friends But almost lovers Destined to be connected But never together For I am winter And she is summer

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Sep 16, 2014

Sep 16, 2014 at 12:05 AM UTC

Nostalgia

She was a dancer And I a writer Born of the same day But different hours Barely friends But almost lovers Destined to be connected But never together For I am winter And she is summer

10

Teeth They are strange little things Always biting Leaving their crescent, jagged mark Everywhere Tough bone, made to last They say a smile on your face Is the most beautiful accessory A person can have But no perfect smiles are without Teeth

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Sep 13, 2014

Sep 13, 2014 at 7:10 PM UTC

Teeth

Teeth They are strange little things Always biting Leaving their crescent, jagged mark Everywhere Tough bone, made to last They say a smile on your face Is the most beautiful accessory A person can have But no perfect smiles are without Teeth

11

you loved me when i was too broken to even love myself. nights when i was scared to go home because of the demons in the walls. you loved me even when i blew up your phone at 3 am with late night calls mixed with tears and self-hate. and you never hung up once. you loved me even when i had lost everything i was naked, and alone with nothing else but myself, a sad, broken, little monster invisible to most except you but still you loved me. so here i am still broken, but beautifully stitched together by your delicate hand asking if you will let me love you.

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Sep 11, 2014

Sep 11, 2014 at 9:52 PM UTC

You Loved Me

you loved me when i was too broken to even love myself. nights when i was scared to go home because of the demons in the walls. you loved me even when i blew up your phone at 3 am with late night calls mixed with tears and self-hate. and you never hung up once. you loved me even when i had lost everything i was naked, and alone with nothing else but myself, a sad, broken, little monster invisible to most except you but still you loved me. so here i am still broken, but beautifully stitched together by your delicate hand asking if you will let me love you.

25

People ask, Have you ever loved a man? I answer no. But a man sure loved me. He started to love me when I was young enough to still believe in Santa. He loved me being at that age when I believed that the moon followed me in a car. The age of scented markers and training bras. He loved me in the way a rat loved it's poison, or a prisoner their torture. Wrongly. And every so often He showed me how much he loved me. Behind locked doors with fiery, demanding hands. Causing me to remember that I was asthmatic. And when his skin burned me, I felt cold. So when people ask, Have you ever loved a man? I answer no. But a man sure loved me.

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Sep 8, 2014

Sep 8, 2014 at 9:58 PM UTC

Untitled

People ask, Have you ever loved a man? I answer no. But a man sure loved me. He started to love me when I was young enough to still believe in Santa. He loved me being at that age when I believed that the moon followed me in a car. The age of scented markers and training bras. He loved me in the way a rat loved it's poison, or a prisoner their torture. Wrongly. And every so often He showed me how much he loved me. Behind locked doors with fiery, demanding hands. Causing me to remember that I was asthmatic. And when his skin burned me, I felt cold. So when people ask, Have you ever loved a man? I answer no. But a man sure loved me.

20

Boys kiss boys And girls kiss girls And boys and girls kiss Get over it.

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Aug 30, 2014

Aug 30, 2014 at 5:53 PM UTC

Get Over It

Boys kiss boys And girls kiss girls And boys and girls kiss Get over it.

4