Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Oct 2013 Jenna B
a m a n d a
[tater tots, sour cream, & smoked gouda]

i'm deeply afraid
that i am
a kaleidoscope
of shards

crushed
colored
glass

there is too much
s p a c e
around me
deafening silence

i want to be
held down
i want to be
smothered
i want to be
warm
i want to be
in the sun

i feel like
an exploding star
or a character
in a movie
that gets overcome
and flys apart
into brilliant
shafts of light

i'm sick
of trying
to stifle sobs
because i don't
want my neighbors
to think i'm
a ******

and i've been
thinking maybe
i'm not as old
as i think i am

and that is
terrifying

it is worse
than being old

because time is
stretching into
a vast expanse
of nothingness

how do i trust myself
when everything
has fallen apart

when all my decisions
have led to this...

this?

...but i've
been falling from
space

hard.*

burning through
the atmosphere
like a
bat out of hell

and it is
the only thing that
seems right

i trust myself
in the realization
that plunging
to the earth
on fire
is maybe
the best thing
that has ever happened to me

i'm not trying to stop
in fact, i'm picking up speed
being pulled
by gravity

if i had to be catupulted
into space
unwillingly

to realize that
this *breathtaking
fall
is better

then so be it.

and i will
put smoked gouda
on tater tots
unapologetically
in an effort
to class up
this joint.

and because it's delicious.
Mamma don't you love me
the thought goes through my mind
over and over without a clear path or destination
like a tumbleweed in a desolate ghost town
it rolls around unseen
unlike on the movie screen

her tongue was a battalion
it fired through my soul
with metal shards of hateful love

her words were like a leather belt
that licked me time and time again
hit straight through tissue blood and veins
and hit my heart , my lonesome bitter heart

my house is painted in tiny black lines
the shadows from the bars
that surround the now empty and cold chambers of my heart

last night you ruined a lot more than just a tiny little crush
your ruined an opportunity for love
one for smile
one for tears
one for memories
one for some more fears
you ruined the chance for me to love again
one for me to be loved back
you ruined a chance for me to fall
to hurt myself and cry over the pain
you see...
you didn't ruin my night
or my crush
or my dignity
you ruined my chance at another chapter in life

I can't write a story
if you edit out the chapters mother...
the story would end and seem unfit
to ever be published
I can't write a story, If you take out all the chapters
I'd rather just stop writing
and leave it all unfinished

because you loved me to death
and the contradiction killed me
 Oct 2013 Jenna B
Lo Infusino
Wash
 Oct 2013 Jenna B
Lo Infusino
We steep ourselves
in jagged silhouettes
of your piano intro.  
Bathe in dusty memories
like sepia-toned snapshots.

We will hear you
until we, too
are too sore for sound.
We shiver through
flickering silence

Far less.

Lost like a static low.
Where affinity breaks down,
freeze crowds against
our feeble fish-bowl walls.  

We can’t tell cold
from native skin

Braking black-and-white
festers at our feet.
Extremities unknown.

Confident,
we wander.
 Oct 2013 Jenna B
Kyann Herzog
I can't see God,
I can't see the wind.
I can't see us together,
not even as friends.

But...

I can see the effects of God,
I can see the effects of wind.
I can see the effects you have on my heart.
I lie in the bed we've made together, and I think of you.
The one I married. Where did you go my one?
I see a face, its your face. I see brown eyes, your eyes.
You look like my one. You feel like my one. But your not my one.

A demon stares at me. Harsh words, venom from your lips. My one's lips.
I'm slowly dieing.
You look like my one. You smell like my one. But your not him.
I can't find my one.

A body lies next to me, my ones body. So lovely.
But there's someone else inside.
You look like my one. You sound like my one. But your not my one.

You left me my one, left a demon in your place.
I call your name, a demon calls back. I look in your eyes, a demon looks back.
And you'll lay down beside me, and as I dream I'll search for my one.
When I wake up, you'll still be gone. I wish you'd come back my one.
I wish I could find you.
 Oct 2013 Jenna B
weaver
I want to write until tears fall from my eyes
and my pen runs dry and I draw silent and still
I want to write you into words I can take with me
I want to capture your being and form on paper
I want to write to soothe the cacophony inside me
I want to pull it out of me, pull me out of myself
in ribbons and strands until I fill a room
I will look at all that was in me, tugging on strings
that have left me empty. I want there to be nothing left.
Hollow out my insides leaving me with nothing but air in my spaces,
leave me with air and pencil shavings
Put all that is me out on display
Maybe then I will find calm.

I want to write about you,
I want to write until I know and understand you so well I confuse you with myself.
I will write and use up all the words in this language,
then make up new ones to describe exactly how 2,630 miles feels like when it weighs inside a heart,
how it feels to smile back at a photograph,
how I recognize voices through doors and it turns out to be a stranger.

I want to write about things gentle and soothing,
things that can act like a surrounding embrace to a heavy heart. I want to comfort myself.
I want language to be like my imaginary friend I whisper to behind a child's hands.
I want to hurt and I want to need, I want to evoke and I want to express.
I want to strike a chord and resonate for ages, a reverberation to last a century beneath the earth.
I want to not make sense and be misunderstood.
I want to cry silently in my pillow,
filled with emotions so human and so real that I know I Am Alive.

I want to find new words for your eyes, your voice, the curve of your spine.
People talk about making homes out of hearts and ribcages,
maybe I can do that too, live inside the marrow of your bones.
I want to fall into your deepest corners and find You,
then I want to surround you with a tender warmth that will calm and douse you
and you will know that you are Loved,
I want you to know that I will take care of you.
There will never be another who will do just This for you.
twitter.com/cunningweaver
 Oct 2013 Jenna B
Ann Rachel
Walls surround her, they suffocate
In her veins, she feels hate.
The truth is forged, the lies a refuge
From her pain, there is no rescue.

Shadows bind her, they make her anew
The penalty never paid, now overdue.
She walks with charm, takes your hand.
In her eyes, the darkness stands.

Captivated by her every stride;
Thy heart goes on its very own ride.
In her mirth you find rage,
Go through every sorrowful stage.

She looks upon you, eyes void of essence.
The air grows violent, upon her presence.
She casts you into a dream
Of all we see and seem.

She buries her secrets inside your soul,
Upon you, she now has hold.
Her calm breaks away.
You were led astray.

Pain spirals into your being.
She feeds off the unseen.

Treachery, fear.
So very far, yet near.

At wake, altruistic you feel.
Filled with light, on your knees you kneel.
What she has done to you; comprehend
She was, after all, your friend.

Ripped out thy pain
Although none for her to gain.
An act of kindness she showed
Carried your burden, took your load.

Oh ‘twas cruel yet not.
For you, she fought.
Love, she formed from hate
For thy agony to abate.
 Oct 2013 Jenna B
Brooke
12 am
 Oct 2013 Jenna B
Brooke
i told him about my demons,
and he told me about his.
he told me they found him
when he was only a kid.
he was afraid of telling people,
because he was terrified of them
thinking that he was crazy.
he said:
"sometimes i think it's myself,
in my own voice talking
to me. if that makes sense."

i cried, i cried because
i never knew,
a boy like him
would be fighting demons
at such a young age.
he would stay up late at night
because that's when the voices
got louder,
no one else
heard them
but him.
he didn't deserve to be
left alone with voices
and having no one to help him,
no one to talk too.
he thought it was normal,
to be bullied by his own mind.
sitting there, isolating himself
from the world,
picking out his insecurities
every nightmare,
hating himself
was the only way he could cope.
he thought it would be best to just
ignore them, and they would
go away.
but he doesn't deserve that,
he didn't deserve it at all
he was only nine.
he had nightmares, he never slept.
how strong could a kid be back then?

"when i was like 9 or 10 
it always told me 
everyone hated me,
no one cared about me 
and i thought there was something
inside of me.
or me talking to myself,
it kept telling me that
and every night 
i always had nightmares.
i didnt know how to control it, 
one day i just didnt listen to it 
and thought about good things 
and it went away,
i dont know how,
i don't know what i did,
it just went away."


-b.m
 Oct 2013 Jenna B
Amanda
Soulmates
 Oct 2013 Jenna B
Amanda
I would write a poem about you but I don't know you
not yet
I would praise your features, hair-lips-eyes-nose
the angles and curves and lines and scratches that make your face
but
I'm not familiar with them
not yet

All I know is that we're supposed to be together and that one day your face will be etched in my memory for eternity
and that eternity will seem like a microsecond
-no shorter-
when we're together

I would write a poem about you but I don't know you
not yet
Next page