sarah-michelle
My name is sarah / A writer looking to improve / I'm 19 fending for my own in the world. / So I suppose I find myself inspired much of the time. / Nothing I've written has ever been published, although I would openly except any opprotunity to be recognized for my work. / I would really appreciate open feedback.
Like sticks and stones
You'll break my bones
I'll scream before you strike me
And flinch and groan
Drunk off patron
You thought that you could buy me
I'm not some drone
That'll grunt and moan
Just so that you'll like me
And If you don't condone
You're on your own
Your stupid *** can bite me
Feb 25, 2011
Feb 25, 2011 at 7:07 PM UTC
Wind beneath trees
the birds and the bees
vibrations of your voice
as I rest my head against your chest
You impress me
with your ability to undress me
so quickly
the skys like my heart
on fire
you tear me apart
inside
I melt
and never felt
until now
Have I been asleep?
walking in a lucid dream
It seems the bridge
between reality and perfection
has broken
and I am stuck on the other side
where the grass grows greener
once you implied
you loved me
and wanted to love me
again and again
my young friend
you are far too lovely
trust me
when I say
I could never grow bored
you fill that empty core in my body
I float above life and watch the people trudging by
wishing they knew
someone like you
that could make them feel the way that I do
Dec 18, 2010
Dec 18, 2010 at 10:23 AM UTC
Worldly obsessions take hold
of the confident and bold
regressing in will
swallow that pill
craddle that bottle
watch him wobble
with ignorance
and greed
drop to your knees and plead
with the lord
you're bored
and sore
from the whiplash of life
the universe is trife
my words corrupt and slaughter
flowing like ***** tap water
I speak for the dumb
I hear for the deaf
breath for the breath
less
and this should be enough
what makes you so tough
you snarl and growl
fowl as ****
In your skin tight jeans and pick up truck
good luck
Dec 5, 2010
Dec 5, 2010 at 11:24 AM UTC
skin tight black leather
ropes
duct tape
rambling nonsense and
intensly derogatory terms
life is nothing but a bar
over run by fake plastic beauty
with overpriced wine and overpriced steez
**** you kayne west
Nov 29, 2010
Nov 29, 2010 at 8:10 PM UTC
I am what I am
for I am
a perfect reflection of a fantastic source
created in a cyclical format
I may only be wrinkled never ripped
for I am
What I am
Nov 22, 2010
Nov 22, 2010 at 2:26 PM UTC
like leftover food
i awake every morning
plastic rehab bed
Oct 29, 2010
Oct 29, 2010 at 9:19 PM UTC
I'm sick of your **** scene
your american dream
seemingly perfect
in everyway
the tasks you complete everyday
in cyclical motions
avoiding chaos and commotion
cause god forbid you'd have to face your pain
you're far to weathered to handle the strain
complain complain complain
you're too ******* smart
and too ******* vain
It makes me sick
like xanax and ***
that these days the world beats
to only one drum
Oct 29, 2010
Oct 29, 2010 at 6:02 PM UTC
the graveyard is humming quietly
as I sleep in the shack nearby
the headstones shiver with the cold boulder breeze
vibrations shoot from my feet up my spine
I can hear them tossing in their sleep
he pulls me closer
he hears it too
he is frightened
my dauntless man quivers
I close my eyes
the world around me crumples
like a wet newspaper
a dead man appears by the door
rips out my throat with his rotting teeth
surrounded by what is left of his bloated and putrifying skin
he is screaming
I have brought your halo! you are no longer young
and I may touch you as I please!
he is breathing fire from his nostrials
spewing words that I can no longer comprehend.
I am infinity!
I am the freedom that is death!
I am a closet filled with skeltons and other atrocities!
I am coming down really ******* hard!
I open my eyes
beside me still
he breathes quietly
over the sounds
of the graveyard humming
Oct 13, 2010
Oct 13, 2010 at 8:58 PM UTC
You sold candy on the play ground
to the innocents
the wide eyes
they dove right in
you carried them away
Oct 12, 2010
Oct 12, 2010 at 5:07 PM UTC
I am ***
inadmissibly slapped too many times
bruised and shapely underneath my jeans
moving with defening sound waves
I have grown tired of your exploitations
Oct 12, 2010
Oct 12, 2010 at 4:59 PM UTC