Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
WHAT WILL IT TAKE
TO MAKE YOUR TOUCH GO AWAY
I CANNOT SHED MY RUINED SKIN
IS THIS THE END OR DID YOU JUST BEGIN?

I WANT MY BODY BACK
I WANT MY LIFE
I WANT MY HEART BACK
I WANT MY KNIFE

MEMORIES AND SCARS
DECORATE MY BRAIN
REGRET AND STARS
CALM THE PAIN

SNAKES FEAR ME
DOGS LOVE ME
I AM NOT ME
YOU HAVE RUINED ME

I AM ROTTING INSIDE AND OUT
I PEEL MY SKIN AND BURN MY TONGUE
JUST TO FILL THE HOLE THAT YOU DUG
JUST TO FORGET WHAT YOU HAVE DONE
you deserve to rot.
do you know what its like
to wake up every morning
and be disappointed that your eyes open?
that your heart still beats
and there is still air going into your lungs?

if so I am so so sorry.
I'll be smarter this time
I'll hide the scars under a cuff of beads
bracelets and jewelry
shiny things I adore so much
because if you find the blood again
I won't hesitate to tell you the truth this time
that I've relapsed again
because you make me want to die
can't wake up,
it´s not a dream,
trying to escape it,
with no way out,
just dissociating,
disconnecting from the world,
the feelings,
the thoughts,
from everything,
entering the void,
a simple retreat,
only I am there,
a time out
I am peaches, the color purple and weeping willows
summer, pool parties and fireworks
I am roses, dark chocolate and cranberries
true crime documentaries and spicy books
I am mountains and rushing creeks
long runs and misbehaving hair
I am the scent of strawberries and watermelon jolly ranchers
huge libraries and rain
I am dandelions and volleyball
homemade jellies, pasta and long hot showers
I am photography, pencil lead and llamas
scrapbooking, gardening and shiny things
I am beaded bracelets, ripped jeans and hoodies
mascara and braids, bruises and scratches
I am all that I am
I hope that maybe some of you will recreate this and tell me all that YOU are! Let me know in the comments or in a message if you made a poem like this! I would be interested to read it!
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office


                                           Died While Trying

                                  (prompted by an idea by Nagi)


                     “Every day you play with the light of the universe”

                                                 -Neruda

          
The glory of killing an old man already dying
Is heralded by the clinking of colorful medals
As a president is helped into his Mercedes
By white-gloved lieutenants wearing golden aiguilettes

The old man dying in his bed was a challenge to evil
Through the love-letters of freedom he wrote to the world
Ambassadors of hope that could not be recalled
Just as a subtle injection cannot be withdrawn

A flowering of ideas in verses freely exchanged
Crushed beneath boots polished by frightened houseboys
Pablo Neruda
Mr. Selfish loves himself
He doesn't care about anyone else
All he does is spew spew spew
About how much better he is than you

Mr. Selfish is a liar
He doesn't care if your mind is on fire
All he cares about is himself
And couldn't give a **** about anyone else

Mr. Selfish pretends to be sweet
He fools everyone into thinking there's nothing to defeat
If you are hurt he wouldn't cry
In fact he'd laugh and wish you'd die

Mr. Selfish is my name
I am evil and I am insane
All I care about is myself
Everyone else can go **** themself.
narcissistic episode
Art is supposed to be beautiful
My mind is far from that
Memories and dreams mix together
It was far too much to look at

Blades and apologies
Water bottles and gum
Anything to pretend
Anything to be numb

Creating a person
Made out of emptiness
Morphing myself into a human
Because God knows I wasn’t one

Blonde bits of hair
Tears of despair
Long letters with kisses
Flowers for your stitches

I never forgot the look on your face
When I told you what I’d done
Regret and disappointment
Fear and uncertainty
I hate for you to see me
Your face painted lovingly

I’m more than a mess
More than a dumspterfire
But I’ve been broken every now and then
And through the darkness
I’ll find a way to be pure once again
these two poems I just posted (this one and Remembering Her) are the first poems I've written in a while. I've been in a poem writing mood I guess. (the "poem writing mood" being an insane depressive episode)
Pictures of her hang quietly on my wall
Carelessly tracing her fingertips along my jaw
Gift wrapped chocolate
Secret handwritten letters tucked in my pocket
Unspoken words
Never to be heard

This feeling of belonging
Unfamilar, but sweet
It enveloped my soul
Making me feel oh so complete

This feeling, so fleeting
So bitter and painful
All I wanted was something real
But I always end up with with someone hateful

In the end, I’m glad you left
We weren’t meant to be
But I still think about you, sometimes
As my own bittersweet memory
You never really loved me
this is about a toxic ex. idk I'm so tired
Apologies,
Just words,
Words anyone could say.
Did you really mean it?
You say you did,
but why did you do it again?

Please don't say sorry,
While pretending to feel regret.
Thinking after just one word,
Everything will be fine,
That three simple words,
Will change how I see you now.

But I can't.

How are words supposed to erase
The pain, tears, and scars,
already made?
I feel like most of the time, apologies are just made to make us feel better about ourselves, rather than actually expressing regret.
Next page