Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Panoply Mar 2020
one day someone will love you

he will remove your shirt
his hands will move over your skin
soft, fragile fingertips, safe, warm touch
you will sigh and he will enjoy the sound and sight of you
unfurling before him

my mistakes that clog my skin
my anger a bitter, pulsing monster
my love a ****** ****,
but shouldn't it be me to rip the buttons of your shirt
let it fly to the floor
breathe in your skin
admire the view of your eyes closing as i
trailed red kisses over you

shouldn’t it be me who knew you better than he could?
and yes, i am not your typical lover
but i cannot imagine you’d want him
to be intimate with someone who could barely love you,
a tepid version of the love i would make you feel,
i’d let smiles overwhelm our intimacy,
but it will be him, not me, touching your skin like it's golden
you’ll never know that my love is heaven and skies,
and his is merely a shiny fracture of the sunlight i could give you

yet despite my desperate tries of declaring this all
you turn your head away from the sun, me, too bright
and crawl to your comfort, when you could stride to my sunlight
you will shiver in the shadows of his love
instead of basking in the heat of mine
Panoply Jan 2020
and i can’t stop love from happening
and yet i’m waiting for it to arrive
i wish i was sailing through
but i’m bruising the sun
begging to get burnt
still the light hovers for a second,
and then im shrowded in cold
and dark.
and so i fell in love with the moon
with you-
and oh how dreadful and how beautiful that was
Panoply Nov 2019
the light in my heart flickers
there is an eerie echo in my ribcage
it is deathly silent
i hold my breath, waiting
to see if the footsteps coming closer
will emerge
waiting to see who i will become
the jaws who raised me, raised me well
taught me lash out,
and i shiver in pleasure at gashes so now
i want to take your heart and crush it
like glass, smash it against the wall,
until the blood and me and you
crash together. catostrophe.
the word feels like a welcome to me
a welcome mat i rubbed my shoes on
until the soles of my feet were imprinted
with red, until i walked upon the dead,
until every step i took was upon
violence. i know the smell of it
so well i could i taste it.

so ****,
who will i be?
the monster i am so regularly?
the monster i am so scared of
at the bruised soles of my feet
and my ****** fingertips.
i am scared that the mirror shows who i really am
that i really have become as callous as them
and though scorch the light, i burn myself the most
perhaps i need a plaster and some water
maybe then i can be someone happy
pretend to be someone
who didn’t have monster’s necks craning over their crib when they were a child
eyes wide and hungry, ready to devour the good,
and infect with the everlasting, swirling darkness
Panoply Nov 2019
with my head in the clouds
i wonder when I’ll hurtle back down
into the godforsaken ground
where most people live
with reality, safe and sound
yet me, i liked to dream impossibly
of how my mother’s sharp edges
would melt into soft clay
of how arms clad with armour
would cradle me, make me calmer
or how someone would look at me
and be desperate to see my vulnerability
as if i was a painting in a museum that
they wanted to look at endlessly
Panoply Oct 2019
beg me to stay
want me enough
to step over the lines of politeness
need me so much you don't care about who you were
only who you want to be with me
Panoply Aug 2019
they want me to be happy
or else i’ll spoil the mood
so I pour the drink right over
tonight i'll be messy and rude
spin a bottle, bruised lips on hers
“come with us,” they murmur
as they beg me to get ink
so after downing a drink i
ride the bus with windows open
letting the poison air in
past watercolour rain
on buildings with bloodstains
the sky looks so numb
and “let us have a little fun”
stumble on the sidewalk
i like the way you talk
tattoos, we’ll regret
“light a cigarette”
you’ll choke
but not to death
we’re living life
always on the edge
this poem is really cringey and ****** but idc
Panoply Jul 2019
it is already too much to be in love
but in love with you?
that is a crime

for a while, I will get wrapped up
in the possibilities of it all
my eyes will flicker
i will remember how impossible
my dreams really are
Next page