to tell me that
I tasted like bourbon
and the entire galaxy.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 3:27 AM UTC
kissing boys with long hair
at parties that smelt like bad decisions,
and surviving on liquor so strong
that I would forget my own name,
simple to try and remove that awful taste
you left in my mouth.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
He looked at me with eyes
that stabbed my chest.
"Sometimes it's not the guns,
that **** you."
He said,
and then those eyes,
the ones that stabbed my chest,
filled with tears
"Sometimes it's the goodbyes."
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 4:39 AM UTC
And kid, no one is going to pick you up
from the tiles of the bathroom floor,
with wrists stained the colour of
your mothers favourite lipstick.
Imagine if she saw you now.
So stop waiting for them,
and stand the **** up,
because who ever said
that you couldn't do it alone.
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 7:45 AM UTC
with laces that were as tangled
as the words that slipped from my lips
when I tried to tell you how I felt.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 5:44 AM UTC
that honesty was the best kind of poetry.
So here it is. My kind of poetry
but your kind of honesty.
I am so
infinitely,
undeniably,
irresponsibly,
head of heels in love with you.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 2:37 AM UTC
the way your arm would wrap around me
like a snake with a mouse.
I was never really certain if you were going to
embrace me
or
crush me to an oblivion.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 6:19 AM UTC
I was wrongly convinced that if I set
myself on fire first, that it would
hurt far less when you
threw me into the
flames.
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 1:41 AM UTC
I was warned of the real dangers in the world.
From the risk associated with
small pills in doggy bags,
to the instability that comes from
a bottle bought from a corner store.
But no mother or teacher
ever cautioned me of the agony
that would hit me like a bullet
from a boy with brown hair
and hands that finally made my skin
feel like it fit my heavy bones.
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 6:02 AM UTC
The stretch marks that you left on your mothers thighs
will hurt her far less than the lines you will leave
on your suicide note.
Stop and think for a second.
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 4:29 AM UTC