taping back the pieces of a letter that was meant for you
crying to witch house and giving myself a stick and poke tattoo
smoking some **** and petting my cats
falling asleep and eating lots of snacks
cutting up clothes to show more skin
watching old movies and getting drunk again
painting my nails a beautiful blue
getting lost in the dark hue
getting lost in thoughts of you
i still love you
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 12:34 AM UTC
you are a man of many colors;
i am a woman of none.
you shine bright;
i am dull hue.
you blend in with the sun;
i fade into the background.
i float down the river
to the other seemingly grey
bodies of despair.
you stay on land,
grouping with other rays of light
and you all share stories of good times --
which are those times you aren't with us.
we cannot blame you.
we hardly even like each other.
we're as different as night and day,
black and white;
hot and cold.
i just wish our differences
could have kept us at peace,
instead of stripping us down
until we were cracked
and shattered bones
trying to find the glue
that held us together
in the first place.
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 10:54 PM UTC
Right now,
I believe I have no name.
Right now,
I could probably write a 351 page book on how I am nothing —
on how we are all nothing —
and pass as very intelligent,
very entitled psychologist
who knows so much more than you.
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 3:20 AM UTC
I am so tired of shining lights
on my bedroom walls late at night
to make shadow puppets
so that I feel less alone.
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 2:15 AM UTC
"i was referring to the present in past tense;
it was the only way that i could survive it."
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 5:12 AM UTC
my thoughts are blue.
my bruises are green.
all you do is
scream scream scream.
broken fingers.
misplaced trust.
my conscience is beginning to rust.
it sits idly in the swamps of my mind.
i pretend that's just fine.
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 3:23 AM UTC
it is a new day, a new hour, a new second, and i have new skin.
i'm hoping it's impenetrable, but as i fall down and scratch my knee, i realize it isn't.
i'm hoping it's smoother, but as i run my fingers over the rough scab from yesterday's tumble, i realize it isn't.
the sun is shining down on my skin, and i see that it's causing me to glow.
this has happened before, but it's different now, because it's stretching deeper than my skin.
i can feel it within.
/
the moonlight casts a shadow on my skin.
it's unsettling.
it makes me feel blue.
but i am tired of feeling blue,
so i go inside,
so that maybe i will feel green
or yellow
or red.
anything but blue,
because i always end up drowning in it,
yet here i am,
talking about it like it will not
swallow me when i wake up tomorrow morning.
or afternoon.
or maybe i won't wake up at all,
so that way i am no longer held captive
by this blue ruin.
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC
If these walls could talk, they’d tell me to stop writing.
To stop hunching myself over a glowing laptop screen for hours at a time,
battering my brain for a story more unique than anyone else’s.
But these walls can’t talk,
so I continue to do this even though I know I shouldn’t.
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 7:40 PM UTC
charlie is a boy
with green eyes.
charlie is a boy
who i'd love to call mine.
his personality is electric,
and music taste
nothing short of eclectic.
but lately
he's about drinking
and driving drunk
and being sleepy.
he tells everyone
that he's just
living his life
but that's hard to believe
when he stops saying hi
to us on street
when he passes us by.
i want to talk to him,
and ask how he's been,
but his mother says he's in the hospital,
so we can't speak to him.
almost a week later
he returns home and says,
"although i am back,
i wish i were dead."
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 9:31 PM UTC
both of our eyes were brown, but yours had this beautiful depth.
this instant allurement.
you smiled at flowers, learned about the elements, sipped from the ponds, played in the dirt; splashed in the ocean.
we chased each other around like the winds of tornado.
there wasn't a day where the sun didn't kiss your forehead good morning,
and a night where the moon didn't watch you doze off.
you read tea leaves like a nun and her bible scriptures.
i was never alone.
whether together or apart, you managed to illuminate me,
to bring me to life on the days where my only question was to live,
to beckon my best self forward, and leave the worst one behind.
there's no doubt in my mind that the worst is yet to come, i'm just glad i get to spend it with you.
Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 10:49 PM UTC