Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Claire Billings Feb 2021
A simple glance causing colors to dance
upon my pale cheeks

Your smile and wit full of nonchalance
leaving me stumbling for an adequate response,

to fully express the way I feel

But alas I'm left tongue-tied because I'm head over heels
I barely know you yet you fill my head constantly
Claire Billings Feb 2021
Your long red hair caused flames to become jealous because they could never compare to your color

Each freckle a kiss I wanted to leave on your body

Your willowy body swaying lithely to Conan Gray while I sat on your bed in amazement that God could create something as ethereal as you

My heart quickened at your touch, even though it was always platonic and nothing more than a brush against my arm or a friendly hug

Every curve in the right place, no matter how much you argued that you were built like a 2x4 plank of wood, everyone wished they were you

Everything about you seemed perfect, right down to your button nose that was covered in blush and bucket hat that was a size too big

You were my best friend, we were all we really had

And you were the first girl I ever loved, not that I ever told you before you left

But I still kept those polaroids and photo booth strips we took at the mall

No matter how hurt I was when you started ghosting me after you began a new life, I'll always think about you
Claire Billings Feb 2021
My bones are brittle and hollow

Delicate like stained glass in an empty church

The wind blows through me yet my soul feels heavy

I wander through my halls, a ghost with no purpose

My cries an echo in the wind but cradled by my insecurities
and coddled by my fears

An imposter smile forever etched onto my skin like a porcelain doll with a painted grin

But for now, I’ll find comfort in the dark, cocooning myself in
dangerous,
yet sweet thoughts of release

I now lie in my bed, my head in a melancholy state

A corpse of a girl

Gone
Claire Billings Feb 2021
Romance as a person from a broken home is constantly pondering whether it's love
Or loving the feeling of finally being wanted

Leaving you in loveless
and poisonous relationships
in the sake of filling the void your parents created
Claire Billings Feb 2021
Take me into your arms, I melt with bliss
Your touch burns my skin and my cheeks pink from the heat
My heart now cherry wine
My insides warm and liquid
Your kisses leave me drunk staggering for more
I’m addicted to your love that leaves me in deep withdrawals
Intoxicated from your hands, my heart flutters, nearly stopping
Your words fill my head with sweet nothings till I’m drowning in Vin Santo
Make me feel lighter and lighter till I can’t stand
My entire body a pulse
Your hands dripping down my sides and pooling at my hips
You've made me an alcoholic
Claire Billings Feb 2021
We are the children of the ******
Thinking basic necessities were luxuries
and that love was earned not unconditional

We are the children who carved
and starved
before we even hit our teens

We are the children who grow up to be
disappointments
The ones you point at
and warn your children of as we pass by

We're the ones who end up in coffins
rather than receiving diplomas
and fulfilling our dreams
because we don't have time to dream
When we only think of surviving the day

We were made this way

So God bless the children of the ******
The ones who are having their stilts hacked at
but are somehow still standing

And God bless those who have fallen
and been taken
be it their own choice or someone else's

May our graves not be overgrown with weeds
and faded plastic flowers
and our tales passed on,
not forgotten memories or sad stories

God bless the children of the ******
yeah yeah I know my parents and being raised in poverty can't be my crutch but we still live and go through this daily, and you fellow children are some of the strongest I've been blessed to know <3
Claire Billings Feb 2021
All those nights wasted, pouring the contents of my heart onto my pillow
Only to do it again time after time.
Throwing myself in deeper and deeper to fill something that isn’t there,
until one day I can’t pull myself back out, gone is the rope to guide me
I try to fix it, only to tear myself down in exchange for validation
My entire being now clay, I am only as good as you want me to be
Take me into your hands and mold me into your image
Let me lose myself in you, maybe then you’ll love me
Maybe then you’ll see me an equal
The things I do to be wanted
Break me down, step on me, and then sweep the remains under the rug
I won’t object nor complain
Your attention is worth more than I’ll ever be
Tell me those three overused words and I’m utterly yours
Try to replace a love that I’ll never know
Try to patch me up with caulk and cement till I’m too heavy to stand
Build me up then tear me down, you know I like it that way
Mold me into your fragile sculpture ready to collapse without your support
Smooth my edges from previous projects and add more to how you see fit
Then once you’re bored, toss me away
Leaving me scrambling to find a shape
Replace me with another project you think is worth your time
Well it's been two months and it seems we're both trying to erase each other from our lives but you somehow manage to worm your way back into mine time after time, good luck with your new muse
Claire Billings Feb 2021
I should’ve realized that I never loved you,

When your lips touched mine
and my butterflies were long dead.

When your best friend made me laugh and feel better around him
and made me feel more for him than you ever could

When I no longer felt the rush of static on my skin when your hands slithered across me

When I longed for the returned stare of a stranger at the store.

When I no longer felt the excitement of seeing you

But I liked the feeling that I was wanted,

And so I held on, because you told me it was love

And what do I know about love?
Claire Billings Feb 2021
You begin to like the water over your head
The pressure holding you down
Pushing you further and further down to the ground
The water flooding your head, your lungs, weighing down your body so you can't move,
But you like it
You like knowing that it's easier to feel nothing than anything at all
Thoughts of just staying and drowning in it all.
There's a certain kind of comfort that comes with it,
The sweet relief of giving in
To stop fighting the pull of the tide
The cold water numbing your every sense
Knowing the ocean will take you when no one else will
The waves lulling you into a state of almost calm
drifting you away from caring about it all
The salt leaving you bitter but bitter keeps you from being let down again
Time
After time
After time
Drowning sounds nice
Claire Billings Feb 2021
To many adults, I’m nothing but the definition of wasted potential, rebellion, and stupidity. I don’t fit their timeline nor their expectations
My sluggishness and lack of energy keeping me at bay, ruining my chances while I put on a show for my peers.
Although who doesn’t love a good show
I put myself on a constant stage and create character after character until I get to the point where I’ve lost myself in the art.
I don't know who I am.
But I suppose that’s the age-old question,
Man pondering where he belongs.
I like to pretend I’m smart for coming to that conclusion and writing these poems when in reality I’m a walking cliche repeating overused phrases
I fit the stereotype to make myself feel valid,
yet act like I’m better than God himself.
I hate the world, I smear black on my eyes, I wear dark clothes and scream at nothing and everything.
I get hurt and blame it on everyone but myself,
yes, the sidewalk was the one who scraped my knee, but I’m the one who’s rubbing salt into it before it can heal.
I sleep in late and stay up until the sun rises above the Tetons, scolding me with bright rays through my window stinging my eyes.
I curse out at the world, I complain about everything while not doing much to fix it
I beat myself up and am merciless to the body that my soul resides in.
I cry and get upset over everything yet am empty, and completely and utterly numb.
I'm just your average, angsty teenage girl
Claire Billings Feb 2021
Dead flowers lay on the floor
stems cut to try and save the petals in failed attempt
One
      By one
           They all fall
Until there's nothing left at all


The Autumn chill indicating the end
For without death,
no one would miss the twirl of a sycamore seed
or the fresh face of daisies who have just bloomed

So as all the petals fall,
and I gently go with
Maybe I'll be missed after all
seasonal depression is a *****, not to mention she just joins clinical depression in a sucky duet
Claire Billings Feb 2021
Thoughts of summer occupy my mind while I watch the bleak gray sky and flurries of snow

False memories fill my brain of better times that didn’t exist


A warm sun and fields of flowers shadow days of silence and lonesomeness


Bluewater from crystal pools gently lap and wash away bad memories of fleeting friendships,

and the desperation of trying to keep a few of them to stay.

I always think I’ll be better in the summer


I suppose I’ll never be fully content no matter the season.

But in the meantime, I’ll keep myself busy with dreams of unrealistic nights inspired by movies

And worry that I’m wasting the few good years I have sitting at home alone;

Writing these poems.
Claire Billings Feb 2021
I hope every time you look at me,

you're reminded,

I'm god herself.

And I know you and all your friends still put offerings on my altar

In the form of prolonged stares and looks of hunger.

And even though you tell everyone you hate me

I'm always on the tip of your tongue.

I find it flattering, to be honest.
Yeah I'm conceited, I know
Claire Billings Feb 2021
There's something about lying on the floor staring at the ceiling that the comfort of no bed can provide

Maybe it's the way we feel grounded, how the small of our back and head lay against the rough old rug you've had for ages

Keeping you tied to the earth when you feel yourself drifting away

Or maybe It's just because I refuse to use the bed I've been provided and would rather mope on the hard floor

Either way, the best way to do an existential crisis is lying on the floor with purple LEDs and Ribs by Lorde playing in the background and you can't change my mind
Claire Billings Feb 2021
I sit in my throne of gold

Putting myself on a pedestal because I'm too weak to stand on my own

But I won't show that.

I strut around

Head high but morale low

I pretend to be better than everyone when in reality I'm nothing but the crown of tin foil I sat upon my own head.

My haughty facade masking my internal hatred.

"Surely I must be better than everyone,
If I’m not perfect then I’m not myself"

In fact, I'm nothing without my confident exterior.

My pedestal builds every day

separating me from reality and the comfort of friends and the reassurance of knowing you're not alone.

It's lonely at the top

But I suppose I'd rather be lonely than at the bottom

To be honest I’m nothing but a scared little girl in a king's robe and a throne too big

But I’ll keep up the image that I’m better than life itself, what else would I do?
Claire Billings Feb 2021
Do you ever wish
To simply not exist?

Because it's not the void after death I fear,
It's being a spectator watching everyone's lives go by when I die

I wanna end it all
But the thought of failing scares me,
adding more scars to my repertoire
for everyone to continue to mock
or to leave myself even more of a mess than I was before

But staying is hard too,
Meaningless days blurring into the next
That empty feeling replacing sadness and joy alike
Abuse and neglect creating a crown of thorns upon my head

Newton's First Law: people in motion stay in motion, it's just sometimes easier that way
Every day I'm just waiting for my unbalanced force
Claire Billings Apr 2021
And so,
When his words ran dry,
my tears began to flow,
like a river of melted snow.

My heart has ached years for you
calling out like a nightingale's song,
lost in the wind.

Though you're colder than ice I still seek your warmth.

For the heart wants what the heart wants
It's been nearly 3 years now and we just fumble to one another in our darkest hours though my feelings still ring true
Claire Billings Feb 2021
You hold your scepter and make cruel jokes

You're nothing but a jester in a poor man's crown

With every badly executed slight your bells jingle causing attention drawn to you

In attempt to bring others down, you just became a one-man show
Claire Billings Feb 2021
Hey,

I know we can’t be a thing but is it so wrong that I want you?

You’re constantly on my mind

I’d rather speak than bottle it up like I have the past few months
And eventually explode

Or maybe consider this letter my explosion,

I know out of all the people you’re the worst choice, being my ex’s friend and all

(No matter how badly he treats you, and all the things he says, but you stuck with him because you’re loyal)

Call me dumb, or anything you’d really like
As long as you know this isn’t out of revenge or spite

But from blooming feelings I’ve had since November

That wrapped and twisted around my rib cage and flowered through my skin,
Leaving me to pluck the petals in a game of “love me or love me not”

Well I finally give in
I don’t want you to feel obligated requite my feelings or anything,

And I might be taking your long, and frequent glances at me during class
The wrong way

But I’m placing all my chips out and taking a gamble,
To tell you I really like you
A more refined version of the letter I wrote, the feelings were not reciprocated
Yes I know I'm a bad person
Claire Billings Feb 2021
Your eyes are as deep as an ocean
Pulling me in and leaving me drowning in your gaze

Your smile makes my cold, dead heart beat
Bringing back color to my sallow cheeks

A nervous laugh making me feel a thing I haven't felt in ages

A god in disguise, giving life to things that were once dead

Or maybe a necromancer

Because with every breath I take, you leave me in constant pain
Mad
Claire Billings Feb 2021
Mad
I am mad

Mad at the world
for not being just

You say life's not fair
Well, I ask why?

Is there some rule stating it must be so?
You don't know

So I say change it
And you say no
Claire Billings Feb 2021
As my father lay,
passed out in his chair
with whiskey nursing his dead heart
and healing his origami wrists

My sister and I's stomaches ache with hunger
I sacrifice my last piece of poptart to her
and pray to make it till my mother comes home

She crashes into the door
An alarm for my father harmonizes in a disastrous symphony
He dashes out the door for the next shift
Leaving my mother, crying after seeing the mess and her children passed out by the empty fridge

Her grease burnt arms scrub the wine covered coffee table
Until red stains turn pink and empty cigarette packs fill the trash

She picks up a glass and fills it with wine
and drinks away the memories until everything is warm

Thus continues the cycle

Money sparse, bills unpaid, cupboards nearly bare
Two parents whose love had been infested with addiction and depression
stemming from broken, abusive homes and even more abusive past relatioships

Leaving two children in the destruction of constant fighting which led to divorce

The eldest following her mother's footsteps of constant abuse and taking on her father's pain with origami wrists to match

The youngest never bounced back, a brick wall built from years of silence left her permanently mute. Every day she drifts further and further away from reality and lives in her fantasy world.
Claire Billings Feb 2021
A pretty house lies on the top of the hill

The exterior is lovely but within is decay

The walls crumbling and wallpaper peeling

The foundation in shambles

Ghosts roam the corridors in search of the love from their parents they could never find

Children with tears staining their cheeks and bruises decorating their skin with watercolor blues and purples intermixing

Their wails for Mothers who've faded out of existence after being seen as nothing more than silent servants for so long

And fathers who used whiskey to replace emotions and violent words to beat down everyone else until their minds are nothing more than gravel and feel smaller then him

Fathers who never treated the children right but still call for them regardless

Broken picture frames with shards of glass line coat the floors

Cutting and keeping away anyone who tries to come near

Tears flood the basement and skeletons fill the closets

The house beyond repair
Claire Billings Feb 2021
See my face
Coated in tears

Like how the rain paints the sidewalk

Only know that I tried
No matter how insignificant my attempts appear

An abomination to most
But my heart pure

I roll myself out to allow others to dry their shoes
A ***** old rug after time
with each boot leaving its imprint

Drop a match on my gasoline soaked skin to keep you warm
Watch the flames dance and my eyes turn gray,
but my smile untampered

Out of everyone, I thought you'd understand
But time after time
I realize I'm just letting myself down
My mother always says that people will always let you down and high expectations are the death of you, you think after some time I'd listen
Claire Billings Feb 2021
My love is poisonous
Wilting every relationship or lover I touch
At first, I viewed this as a curse
Lamenting in darkness and pain
With nothing but a black, oozing, tar heart
I tried to fix it in vain
But after a while,
When there's nothing left to drip from the cavity in my chest
I may as well do what I'm good at.
They call me a *****
But I couldn't care less.
I'll bite into your heart
Watch the blood trickle from my lips
Cherry against my porcelain skin
I'll dance into your dreams
Until all your thoughts only consist of me
Long black hair framing my malicious face and sinful smile
A simple touch leaving you addicted
My presence alone igniting your soul
Kisses burning holes in your skin
I haunt you at night
but hide in the darkest corner of your mind,
when sunlight pours through your curtains.
I'll tear you apart inside out
Until only leaving a husk
Stringing along your heart on a chain
You can't love anything if you don't have anything to love with
#hotgirlshit lol
Claire Billings Feb 2021
I'd let you tear my heart out
step on it and toss it away
and light the remains on fire
if it means you'd be there to ignite me with a kiss
and use your touch to cut my heart out in the first place
Claire Billings Feb 2021
Wolves sniff out their prey, and I here I lay.
Weak and vulnerable
Cuts from the past leaving the scent,
Leading them this way.
A bullseye on my back marking me as an easy target,
Practically begging to be hit.
And I fall for the same traps time after time,
Even though every day I pray to be given something other than a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Maybe deep down I enjoy the pain,
Punishing myself for something I didn’t do.
Or finding assurance in being put in place.
Every new attack leaves me more and more unstable on my feet
Until one day I can no longer stand,
I’m nothing more than a meal, prey, and weak.
A lamb on It’s own.
Claire Billings Feb 2021
To be honest we never really had a chance

I blame our teachers for showing us videos of people jumping out of the Twin Towers before we could properly write

We were in constant fear of school shooters before we even had a grasp of the mere idea of death

The rosy outlook on life we once had was now replaced with paranoia and panic

As we grew older our self-esteem regressed with unrealistic expectations
set by twenty-year-olds playing teens

And models photoshopping their faces and waists

We looked in mirrors dissecting our insecurities like some science project

We carved and starved until our faces sunk and ribs popped

We went from getting our accomplishments placed on the fridge

To putting our last words and goodbyes on the bathroom doors while

our was skin decorated with cuts, deep like rivers seeping red water

The bottle of Tylenol slowly destroying us from inside out while we wait for release

We’re bashed for being a lazy and tech-addicted generation when in reality we’re just
so
so
so tired

Tired of being here, tired of being set up for a life with no point

Dead end office job after dead end office job
Broken marriages mirroring our parents’

And yet another broken generation of kids doomed from the start
Claire Billings Feb 2021
A single mother in desperation of financial stability and love,
dances from one manipulative man to the next

Each leaving her a little more broken
and killing off what little hope her two children have
for a father-figure to love them

Finally, she settles for a man whose words are sharp like knives
and creates shackles on her ankles

Expectations for a son give her two more daughters and finally a golden baby boy
Rampant favoritism for the new three breaks down the two eldest until it replaces their once eager-to-please hearts with hatred

Both battered with harsh words and threats until tears dry up and eyes hardened to combat the pain

Every adult near turns a cheek to every cry for help
and each plea responded to with punishment

Tongues scarred from biting back words
and faces turned slack to let the insults run off like water

Unhealthy coping mechanisms flourished
Starting far too young and soon
from toxic boyfriends for themselves
to cutting away the pain
or trying to end the pain altogether with a final act

Though no bruises marked the two eldest,
their scars and wounds ran deeper than flesh and bone
XS
Claire Billings Feb 2021
XS
(TW Eating Disorders)
I wrap a corset tight around my waist till I cannot breathe
Ribbons in the air catch my eye
They cinch tighter and tighter
But not tight enough
My mirror reflects a pig with fabric barely fitting around
“More” I demand
And so they wrap
And wrap
reaching not only my stomach but to my arms and legs
My head light and eyes sunken in
The colorful streams leaving marks and pushing down
I look in the mirror and cry
“Will it ever be enough?”
My bones pop and my mind gets fuzzy
Concerned looks from family and a few talks as well
They say they’re concerned for my health
They ask me if I'm eating
(Sometimes I do, or it ends up coming up and out of my throat)
Colorful ribbons dance around my head
Leaving white spots twirling in front of my eyes like delicate ballerinas with each pirouette a throb in my head
The world spins and my head vibrates
My stomach growls
I ache and crack
but I'm skinny
and that's all that matters

— The End —