saint

saint 6d

It's still there...

My love took a beating in that corner of your room
And when I got up I left it there.

We’re not functional when you’re unhappy
It goes unnoticed when I am.
I sat there fighting for our bond,
tried showing you I’d fight for our love.

I opened up my chest and looked away as the creature that hugs my heart to protect it in a form of self sacrifice let go and made himself seen.
Too bright for me.
Stood tall, proud, showing his aura, his beam.
But when I looked back down he was on his knees
Begging for your presence.
What I thought was a bright flame turned into self immolation.

Dead inside and emotionally drained
I’ve let go if it’s all the same.

My love took a beating in that corner of your room and the distance between us felt like the other side of the world.
I left him there. On the ground shriveled and burned.
Nothing and everything feels the same, I’m drained.

In the end, don’t come to me looking for change.
Walk into your room and somewhere in that corner
You’ll find what you’re looking for mangled and deranged.

#418407

saint Nov 2019

I’m still innocent

And like poorly spent money
My innocence was stripped of me.
While Eve was made from Adams’ rib,
I was made as my mothers kid.
The worlds intensity flew off my simmering lid.
And condensation turned impossible to rid.
Innocence turned into inner sense,
But what are morals if your foundation makes no ******* sense.
Confused and easily irritable,
I lost the part of my heart that was spiritual.
So,
Please if you can, slow down time
And let me really process my life.
In a world thats constantly spinning,
I have no time to breath-
It’s like god is discreetly hinting;
I’ll never catch this joy,
It’s always completely fleeting.

My fingertips are lost of blood,
My heart is constantly numb,
My body naturally throbs,
My eyes see no love.

And don’t you dare ask why because thats just the cost.
And if I can’t afford this life, then God take this pen and write me off as a lost cause.

I’m not ******* innocent.

saint Aug 2019

Grave for a Tree

It’s that time of the year again-
I feel lost.
With hesitation on my wrists my lips begin to defrost.
July 4th.
The anniversary of when you left me.
Three years later and I still miss you dearly.
Took me too long to realize I was never your love-
It was just my turn.

And just like digging a grave for my favorite tree,
It might’ve been useless but i needed it.

saint Aug 2019

Smoking Chills

I open my sliding door and leave my inhibitions scattered on my bedroom floor.
Up the flight of stairs, I take a seat on the edge of the roof facing the city.

It’s cold.

And if it wasn’t for this cigarette I’d be inside staring at my phone.
I count the lights on six six west bellevue place,
A building I loved but never been in.
I like smoking in the cold because I can never tell whats my breath and which is the smoke.
I look up at the deep blue sky and count stars of crystal white.
I tap my cigarette over the edge of the roof and watch as the flakes of ash meet its snowy doom.
I can hear the people below,
And the loud music coming from my room.
I see clouds of smoke,
And try to make a tune out of the car honks.
I pinch the cherry of my cigarette and hear it sizzle in the snow.

I take a look at my favorite building, smell the burning firewood, and feel the cold seek refuge in the warmth of my body before tossing this left over tobacco in an empty bottle of red wine, i call an ashtray.

Back in the warmth of my room,
In bed and curled,

I think about how if it wasn’t for that cigarette,

i wouldn’t see the world.

saint Mar 2019

Love, Saltwater, and Mud

at the edge of a roaring ocean, i paint a crimson sky.
seduced by love and affection,
i meld my broken heart with white washed tides.
and no matter what, i don't blame the sea for all that it did to me.
i'm just a soul going through life
only to realize that all i want is buried deep underneath.
yet i might drown to get what i need,
but on the off chance that i resurface,
i'll dig my way through the mud beneath.
i'll go through life with dirt under my fingernails just to feel some sort of purity inside.
and although crimson may paint a beautiful sunset,
i need red to fuel my blood.
until then,
i'll mix the white waters that wash up-

"and kneeling at the edge of the transparent sea, i shall shape from myself a new heart from salt and mud".

"and kneeling at the edge of the transparent sea, i shall shape from myself a new heart from salt and mud".
-anne carson

saint Feb 2019

Ça va

I dream of Paris
I dream of France
I dream of white wine gripped by your soft hands
The view behind you is breathtaking
But not enough to distract me
Buildings of stone catch my eye
Maybe thats why your heart ran me dry
But I’m not one to complain
Especially about you
Et je suis adonné à tu
Ça va
Ça va
Seulement
Avec toi

saint Feb 2019

s(y)in & yang

i fell asleep on your lips once again
the taste of pomegranate and champagne
yet morning mimosas couldn't water down the pain
from sunrise
to sunset
your body wrapped around me
and i'm still waiting to feel alive
sin and yang
crooked charcoal paintings on pearl white walls hang
a mix of blue and violet
i sat in darkness hearing the teardrops fall
asleep in my arms
but your warmth wasn't enough to reach my freezing heart
mistake dropped down my lips
you wiped my sins with your soft fingertips

the thing is,
my past is an eclipse
and constantly looking back
gave me scars on my sterling skin
and made me blind
to nights of sin