Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Apr 2015 Bra-Tee
NeroameeAlucard
Pitiful power hungry people
are strange with an odd plethora of features
it's like even though we know what lies in the box
we insist on angering Pandora, and she isn't one to be mocked

Nowadays next to no one is really worth a **** family and friends can stab you in the back quicker than an admitted enemy can shoot you from the front we placed to much priority on trying to stunt and floss off our material possessions,
maybe if we focused on the inside more than out this may never have been written.

Petite Teenager getting pregnant thinking that a baby equals love, or that kid who tried his best to stand the constant harassment just stamped his ticket to heaven with a loaded gun,
People are strange, we delight in another's misery yet abhor someone's success.
like the book said, were both cursed and blessed
 Apr 2015 Bra-Tee
NeroameeAlucard
I thought I buried you under the green grass
in the gloomy graveyard that is my past
I thought you'd gone on
to a distant land never to be seen or heard from again
I made these assumptions and tried to press onward but...
I Lost all of what made me less awkward,
I Lost my positive out look from one too many fixings of my black hole of a heart
my ****** edge is dead, that's why my Sundays have been so dry
I can't string two words to make anybody moist... so really why do I try?
I guess it's because I gave my heart to this notebook and pen,
when I was dead inside it became my closest friend,
helping me out my problems and surpass my demons,
but then everything has a season,
I guess what I'm getting at
is if you wanna try, (which I doubt)
I'm up and down for that...
So really.. why am I not the same anymore?
I thought I knew
 Mar 2015 Bra-Tee
emily grace
dear you,

i don't know where to start this. you came into my life at the most opportune time, when my heart was open and i was ready. you spoke the loveliest words i have heard from someone's mouth, the connection between us something i could not begin to describe.

your soul touched mine in the weirdest way, a way i was not sure i could feel again. the conversations into the early hours of the morning are something i can recall; soon you just became a part of my life. wake up, shower, talk to you, work, go home, talk to you, sleep.

you became so important to me. and before i knew it, the feelings i felt for you were real, and so tangible. much more than the innocent friendship i thought it was...i did not tell you, though. i thought the feelings were not mutual.

you kindled something in me that sparked a flame, something buried underneath of the rubble left from people before you touched my soul. you made me feel something again that i thought had died, with the others that have left me.

one drunken confession led to the admission of feelings to each other...and the message from your significant other made it crash to the ground, in my eyes. did you care, though? no. six and a half years with her and you wanted something new, wanted new skin to place your lips upon.

the conversations were no longer just small chat, a lot deeper and less appropriate. i cherish every single conversation i have ever had with you, every beautiful word pouring out of your mouth like a faucet spewing out letters onto the ground, onto my feet.

i found someone, someone i could be held by at night while you held your lover. he was beautiful, and after more drunken words you let me know that you did not care for the way his eyes lingered on me, his hands touching the soft curves of me. i lost interest in him...for you. a man who already had a woman on his arm, someone to say "i love you" to every morning. some would consider that selfish, on your part, telling you that you cannot have both while holding onto the other.

i am not sure if i am the other, or if it is her.

the moment our lips met, the moment your fidelity turned black, i knew something in me had changed. i do not regret what i did; no, i do not regret how ravenous i felt when you touched me. i understand most people think about how terrible i am for it, but it was not one sided, darling. i know you feel it, too.

it would be a daft statement to say that i am in love with you. you are almost unattainable, to me, and yet...i cannot seem to find my way back from you. but i do think i love you. i am not sure in what way, all i know is that i believe i am. a man does not tenderly touch my heart like you do without leaving a trace of yourself behind.

the only question i have is if you love me too. and currently, my heart is hurting because i do not know if we are the thing we are, anymore. if we are not, then here is a goodbye to you. just know that a man like you cannot deny the connection between us.

i know you will probably never read this, and i do not expect you to. but just know that you have changed me in a way that i cannot begin to explain. and if we never talk again, if everything has gone to ash, i will remember you somewhere in the deep pit of my heart.

i love you. wholeheartedly and irrevocably.
something i've needed to write to him for a long, long time.
 Mar 2015 Bra-Tee
MereCat
Learning Objective:
Discover hatred for a poem you previously loved
 Mar 2015 Bra-Tee
MereCat
The ice cream van
Has today reached
The melancholic realisation
That the only kids who
Chase clocks for Mr Whippy
And lick the exhaust fumes
In nostalgia
Are the kids who are not kids
But who prematurely aged themselves
With lipstick kisses
And cigarettes
Lowered themselves into nooses
Of sweet-sixteenths
From the age of six

We are a generation of
Peter Pan inversions
We ran ashore
And beached ourselves
Beyond the lure
Of Neverland
We are a generation of
Failed cloud-catchers
Aspiring rainbow-clinchers
Secretly slipping our hands
Back into a dead air
Of former innocence
In the hope we’ll be able to
Retrieve the pieces we left there
We queue and scramble
Like gulls for
Inches we can claw back
Preserving our age in
Wafer cones
And bleeding snows
That glue between our fingers
Each 99 flake
Is a time machine
Which we spin like a music box
And wait for the rewind
Copper coins and sea stains
And we hope we’ll find
Some of the things we lost
But we cannot predict or realign
The atoms or twist ourselves
Back into them
So we sit and watch
The incorruptibility we once possessed
Perished
Sexualised
Corrupted
Pool in the March drizzle
Someone once said
That youth was a process
Of being torn in half
By the past that pulls you back
And the future that tempts you
Being too big and yet too small
Longing but fearing
But an ice cream van tells me
That youth is a process
Of trying not to drown yourself
In what you’ve never had
And when that ice cream van tells me to
MIND THAT CHILD
I can’t help projecting echoes
Of its wisdom
On to all who pass me by
Mind that childhood
Before there’s nothing left to mind
Three separate events today triggered this.
Mainly the 3rd.

1) The unanimous decision that (when we finally get there) we want to celebrate the end of our education with a water fight and a bouncy castle on the school field. Because really we're searching for things we should never have disposed of. We never wanted yearbooks or proms of high heals or hoodies...
2) A discussion about the way we live in a world that is expiring itself in a bid to live fast and young and beautiful and ****...
3) An ice cream van that parked out the back of my school today and the crowd of teenagers that flocked to it...
 Mar 2015 Bra-Tee
NeroameeAlucard
Dear Music

thank you for being a friend
thank you for being there when my world was at an end
thank you for being the ultimate antidepressant
thank you for saving me from myself because I'm my own worst enemy

there's a lot I could thank music for, like giving me confidence when I walked through a door
or blocking out people in the morning on the bus
thank you music, for being there for all of us
 Mar 2015 Bra-Tee
NeroameeAlucard
The Burden of Creativity
is that somethings I do
somethings I say or think
won't make sense to anybody but me

let's use for example Mr. Kubrick, first name Stanley
who took 178 takes of one scene grandly,
I'm sure everybody was tired and worn into the ground
but The Shining was one of the greatest movies around

so though this may sound self serving to a point
painting pictures with verbs and drawing landscapes with words isn't an easy way to make coin

but that's the curse of Creativity,
a lot of things Don't make sense, even to me
 Mar 2015 Bra-Tee
Haydin
Do you ever get the lonely feeling...
Like you want to hold someone...
And you don't know why?
You just want someone that you love next you so you just wrap your arms around them...
You just want to kiss their cheek and let them know how much you care...
You just want to whisper in their ear and say 'I love you'...
You just want to smile at someone...
You want someone there to love.

You only want someone there.
Hey look a vent.
Next page