You cry,
where are my shoes? I can't find them...
I cry,
the ocean makes me want to take my clothes off
and feel the full
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 5:47 PM UTC
My heart
Is a happy drunk
A little too open
A little too optimistic
It's over in the corner of the bar
Playing poker
Screaming at the top of it's lungs
I'M ALL IN
When it's never
To this day
Had a winning hand
My heart
Is a sad drunk
A little too lonely
A little too caught up in tears
It's over at the counter
Forcing the bartender to take its keys
Because it would rather not go home
Than go home alone again
My heart
Is a reckless drunk
A little too unbalanced
A little too impaired
It's over by the door
Making everyone nervous
A little too good at scaring people away
A little too far gone
Like you
A little too far gone
Turn your head
Shuffle away and pretend you don't notice
The breakdown of a heart
Too drunk on feelings
To know when to stop
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 5:46 PM UTC
do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,
she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.
she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.
she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.
she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 9:58 AM UTC
Make eye contact a second too long
Don't smile
There it is.
He'll see white knuckles, gripped edges
A piece of universe between her
shoulder blades
He'll feel a supernova, gutter groans
heat of the heavens in a flash
Look away, and back
there it is. Waiting
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 12:05 AM UTC