Seven thousand miles away from home
In a place of goldsoil and honeyfur
She's holding Death in both hands
No last words
Just agony
Seven thousand ways to die
And she still can't decide
Which one would hurt her parents less
Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 5:36 PM UTC
its 2am and i don’t know if I’m drunk
but the green light in my room keeps
showing me your face
and I’ve never even held a liquor in my hand
which makes me realize that you've held it all the time
and made me drink it till it ran out
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 7:38 AM UTC
i wish i could write like you,
the poster child of poetry.
i wish i could tear apart my brain,
seek out all the words worthy of writing,
and paint them onto paper
like an artist in his prime.
i wish i could change lives,
mend hearts,
and enlighten minds,
simply with my words.
i wish i could breathe new life,
new meaning,
into a tragically meaningless string
of twenty-six letters.
i wish i could be like you,
the poster child of poetry.
but i'm not.
in fact,
as we speak,
i am questioning
where to go with this poem,
or whether i should go through with it at all.
as we speak,
my mind is racing,
and yet i can't get a single **** thought down.
as we speak,
life is continuing in its endlessness;
*words are being spoken and prayers are being answered and changes are being made;
breaths are being stolen and smiles are being formed and happiness is being spread.*
as we speak,
*wars are being waged and injustices are being overlooked and hatred is being endorsed;
trees are being burned and rivers are being drained and death is being glorified.*
as we speak,
the world is turning;
the clock is ticking;
the world is changing.
and yet
as we speak,
all i can think about
is you.
(a.m.)
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 6:02 AM UTC
He was a ****
Though he still grinned and smirked
Set my whole world in flames
Like a vessel of a thousand names
"We did it", in fear and suffer he said
As tears raced through my cheeks
And then I thought
He was the one I've always loved
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 7:56 AM UTC
Help me..
I'm scared..
"What are you scared of?"
I am not much than a dead flower
Help me..
I'm scared..
"What are you scared of?"
I am not much than a sky without a star
Help me..
I'm scared
"What are you scared of?"
Myself.
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 3:41 AM UTC
My head is pouring the gloomiest smoke you have never seen
And I used to think that my life would end up unseen
Like a stone my heart is unbreakable
And to feel, I can no longer be able
These emotions are scratching my chest
Wanting to release themselves from the arrest
Sometimes I wish people would care about me
But sometimes I don't
I wish to tie my rope around the branches
And fall as the old leaves fall
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 2:46 AM UTC