Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Q Nov 2015
I used to mock couples for their PDA
I used to sneer as they indulged in affectionate displays.
Being self-sufficient was all I used to enjoy
And then, one day, along came this boy...

Just like that, I was completely enthralled
Made a hypocrite by my own free-fall.
Suddenly the world was primary and pastel
Like every year I'd lived was drab gray scale.

I was never the one to compliment a beautiful day
Yet somehow the days are gorgeous now, sunshine or rain.
I'm not the kind who bothers with smiles for smiling's sake
But when I'm talking to him I'm smiling till my cheeks ache.

I used to glare at all that PDA
That one couple I just had to shoo away.
They all still get the same treatment
Though now it's because **** long distance.

I'm jittery as though my blood is made of caffeine
I'm grinning like I just swallowed a ******* sun beam
I'm excited as though I just won the lottery
Because this lovely boy has made a ******* fairy-tale of me.
yes, you. i felt like writing something and guess who happened to be on my mind?
Q Oct 2015
I don't want to think today
Command, restrain me, have your way.
I don't want responsibility today
Bind and beat, fun and games.

A word is enough to contain me
If said in the right way.
A look is enough to restrain me
If you want to play.

There's no collar around my neck
I've got the perfect one custom-designed.
I can't buy it, I can't want it
Because I've never been told it's mine.

I want to see blood tonight
I want to rip my skin until I'm swimming
I want to squeeze my brain to pieces until it
Finally, finally stops whirling.

Command me, please.
I don't want to think today.
Restrain me, collar me
I'm up to play a game.
the not-subtle version of "If I Had To Say Anything As Vaguely As Possible, It'd Be This"
tbh it's also ****, don't read this either
Q Oct 2015
Puckered skin, raised high with irritation
I want to see blood tonight.
Whistling tunes and silent croons
Thin leather dancing in the moonlight.

Encircled, enclosed, enveloped, protected
Asphyxiation is barely a concern.
Claimed, owned, treasured, coveted, needed
In fact, it ignites me, good lord, I burn.

Neck, wrists, ankles; you wouldn't understand-
Security isn't tangible for most.
Hair, nape, knees; wordless, silent command-
Never made for a 'benevolent' host.

Heavy and wooden, regal, polished to a glisten
Anticipation and heady floods of endorphins.
Pain comes in forms: blunt, sharp, under the surface
Not a single one of those fail to make the body anxious.

There are words to be said that contain more THC than marijuana
More nicotine than a cigar, a greater high than *******.
There are words to be said that shoot electricity up the spine,
Shiver pleasure down the nerves, and overtake the brain.

There is a doubled band of leather with nickel accents
With black lambskin and white embellishments.
There is a double band of leather that wraps so comfortably.
There is a double band of leather for me.
i have no idea why youre reading this but i personally advise against it. that said, if youre seeing this you probably already finished it so, sorry for this vague mess.
Q Oct 2015
Red
I bleed like any other human
It's still a novelty to me.
When a knife kisses my wrists
And cries red streams.

I'm intrigued by the sight of it
Bright, crimson lines.
That tingle ice up my arms
And down through my spine.

It looks like freedom.
Like drops of life on the bathroom floor.
It feels like liberation.
When I'm done the blade cries, "More."

It smells like failure.
Like the copper tang of lies.
It smells like promises.
Smells like the words, "I'll try."

It sounds like a hospital.
The sound of my mind eating itself.
It sounds like a diagnosis.
Like the crackle of a bottle of pills.

The skin on my inner left forearm
Is puckered, aching, and irritated.
There are fifty-two raised lines there
That I've carefully counted.

There are thirty paper towels in the bin
That are stained red and pink.
The knife in the cabinet and the counter
Have been freshly scrubbed clean.

I am not unhappy.
I have no reason to do this.
I have no excuses to give.
I just want to see red.
im back.
probably only just for this.
i don't know how else to get this out so ill stop bc im worrying myself
but im still editing works so i suppose this is just the break withing the break.
Q Oct 2015
"Oh love, you are missing today.
And suddenly everyone knows your name."

The crescent moon has my heart in hand,
I'll pray come morning light.
I see your smiles, your laughs, your cries
Immortalized in the dark of night.

You're in every corner I pass,
I see you in every aspect of life.
You're in every being that lives,
You're not here, but you're alright.

I'd beg you home again, like always,
But more than a year has passed since I've seen you.
I'd beg you stay, once more, forever
But I knew from the beginning that you were through.

Wayfarer, wayfarer, where will you travel come morning?
Your loved ones can't recall your face.
Dear vagabond in time, have you forgotten home?
Has your journey become a race?

I'm wishing you well from this living hell
That life is without you.
I'm moving on and finding *home

And praying you are too.

I'm not religious, you know this,
But I've got faith where you're concerned.
If there's a God and a heaven and paradise,
It's yours, it's what you've earned.

I'm not religious, you know this
But you sang Hallelujah and I understood.
And if there's a chance you could have peace
I'll pray until you have sainthood.

I wonder why the moon you adored,
Was the moon that was almost gone.
Just a sliver left, soon to disappear,
Just a memory hanging on.

I wonder, if I could've changed things
I wonder, if I had acted differently...
I wonder if there where signs I should've seen
I wonder aimless and futilely.

I feel guilty every time I so much as think it:
"Perhaps a year is enough time for me to move on."
I promised that Autumn would never leave my lips,
That your memory would never truly be gone.

And here I sit, a year later, with a smile
And here I sit, no longer in excruciating pain.
I feel as though I've a penance to pay you;
Scarred, hurt, and guilty, like the tale of Cain.

I want to be angry with you, I truly do
I want to scream and cry and moan
But I don't blame you at all, my friend, my fortress
I understand this was never your home.

This is the beginning, this is how I grow
This is how I'll move on without forgetting the past.
This is how I hand Autumn to every person I meet
This is how I make you last.


Cole.
I love you; for now, back then, and always.
I miss him.

This, along with Warmth are my last poems for awhile. I'll spend my self-imposed hiatus editing old poems, finishing unposted works, and relaxing.
Well wishes,
Chaus
Q Oct 2015
The warmth of this place burns my eyes, ears, and face
Sets my stomach aflutter and my heart to race.
The heat of this balm ignites my soles and palms
Quiets the thunder in my head and my mind is calm.

The swelter of this ocean moves me to action
Causes a leap in my step and my smile to brighten.
The boil of this feeling gives me vertigo, sends me reeling
Makes my skin crawl with glee; a phantom itching.

This place is a silence, a haven, a balance
This place is the personification of pleasance.
This place is a kind moment in the rush of time
This place is my shelter; this place is mine.
Conflicting feelings on Cole's day. It helps to think he wouldn't want me unhappy. This, along with Cole Pt. 2 are my last poems for awhile. I'll spend my self-imposed hiatus editing old poems, finishing unposted works, and relaxing.
Well wishes,
Chaus
Q Oct 2015
The world is filled with hedonists
Laughing and making merry.
The world is learned by nihilists
With the weight of the world to carry.

You see a point to the daily routine
Your infinite repeated steps reek of death.
You feel your goals are closer than they last seemed
Only ten billion eighty-three thousand steps left.

I view the larger picture,
Work on a bigger scale
This planet means nothing,
Our lives are inane, this galaxy as well.

Every day my eyes open they close once more
Every breath I take is a penance, a punishment
Every day I wake up is an endless chore
Every memory I make means as little as the last meant.

But the world is filled with hedonists
They enjoy the idiocy of life.
The world is filled with idealists
Who feel the "prize" is in sight.
four more days before break
Next page