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 Apr 2013 hello
XNtricity
☆。★。☆。★
。☆ 。☆。☆
★。\|/。★
Steal away my oxygen
Can't breathe when I'm next to you
Let me envelope you like a note,
Gravitate closer, be your atmosphere
Pull me around you like a warm jacket
Button me in
To keep out the cold
Of the night
Look at the
Constellations
Aren’t they so bright?

But, you know what I think?
The most beautiful skies
Are inside of your eyes

Stop, don’t blink
Let me sink a little deeper
I don’t need a telescope to see
That supernova
Expanding infinitely

Like a ripple that a pebble makes
The clicking shutter
That takes all of me in
Houston, we have a problem
I can’t escape this black hole
It’s pulling me in

I’ll reach out into that darkness
Brave all of your ice and coldness
For that little cosmos with veins of gold;
Shades of blue,
Green and brown,
So simple,
Nonjudgmental as a penny
That’s been left out in the rain
Many times before

Once more
I’ve caught your glancing flit
Asteroids approaching
I take a direct hit
Falling endlessly, consumed
Among the billions of stars in your eyes

Like Major Tom, I would accept that fate,
To float in limbo
Lost in that space
Out of sight

If worm holes existed
I’d sink through all that
Depth,
Come through the other side

And find that alternate universe--
The dimension where you would have me.
There is no corner of space to call home without you

Three.
Two.
One.

Lift-off.
★。/|\。★
。☆。 。☆。
☆。 ★。 ☆.
*For those who don't know-- the Houston line is from the film Apollo 13, which is based off of an actual incident that occurred during the real Apollo 13 spacecraft's flight to the moon.  
*The penny left in the rain is in fact a corroding, or oxidized, penny...meaning it is truly brown, green, and blue. The comparison to the eye is literal in multiple ways.
*Major Tom is a song reference to David Bowie's Major Tom (Coming Home) in which Tom, a ficticious astronaut, is cut-off from all contact and trapped adrift in space. Look up the lyrics, it'll make you cry.
 Apr 2013 hello
Kendal Anne
Lonely there is a female, just a small girl in all punctuality
and she sits upon the curb of a lovely looking marble paved road
Only the road is no longer marble, it is dusted with the fragments of ash
from the cigarettes she puffs away at, every day until her lungs constrict
The boa made of exaggerated smoke always is pulling upon her air passages
never wanting to let her esophagus be cooled by crisp and clean air
Her feet are bare, frozen and bleeding, leaving drops of blood behind
trails from where she's once been, and where the girls' feet will travel
Beaten and bruised, thrown and spat out, she was the trash of society and its remains
but in all actuality, society was the men she slept with, and she, only wanting cover of the rain at night
Forced into what they called sensuality, but the young girl closes off her emotions and senses
and wished for a home to call her own, but never feeling the want in her heart enough to stay
This girls clothing is ragged, shredded and torn, wrinkled from the nights she's spent
in a strangers arms, she takes danger by the horn, receives herself a death call instead
A disease has been forming, and it grows in magnitude with each passing strangers call
thus the girl has fallen upon her knees, and the disease still finds a way to pass along its young
The female has tried to quit, with her way of life, but the bills keep a'coming, and she is still in need
the hunger inside her drives her raving mad, it is slightly ludicrous, this lunatic she's become
To feed upon a strangers flesh, to conquer her unrighteous lusting and her want
this is the girl that we see who is foolish in her ways, as she folds her hands to her breast
Hands are paled and over worked, dry and calloused never have a bout of rest
so trustful in their own ways, hardy they work like crusted placid tools
Still upon the paved road she sits, crunching her bones into a ball
her skin is increasingly thin, no wonder she gasps with pain for every movement she makes
This young girl, is young enough to let the tears cascade over her heavily dolled up face
her cosmetic encrusted eyes run, covering her make-up splashed face even more
The grime and dirt smudged upon her face from being splashed by non-helping passer byes
and her mouth is made up of a slashed and jagged pair of lips, from lipstick she put on
Smears her great complexion , with the fiery burn of stained glass that was meant for cheeks
thinning roses of auburn, painted with a closed precision, soaked with raccoon cosmetics
Fearfully she sits, silent as water, her fluid running out as if the air around
whips her inside, and eats her on the outside, it begun by freezing her skeleton over
For she was always their (as in men)collected victim and she begun to wonder why
her fellow human's never had believed her she saw through her crystal tears
That doll faced men and doll faced women, had a secret they kept
they only wanted to play God with the clown she had become
I'll probably change this once I actually read all of it. Cheers :))
I've never heard anything as true as what you have to say.
I've got these Feels, and I'm finding they're blinding me,
And all these Feels are linking back to you.
I loved someone, once.

A person tall and thick with thought,
Whose reach was wider than a mile;
Whose words were low and filled to brims
And ordered my whims single file;

Whose eyes made blood flush under cheeks
And wandered nary from my own;
Whose air was just enough to bind;
Whose arms were heavy as a stone;

Whose breath on me could wear me down
And raise me up to live anew;
Whose presence haunted my mind's halls;
Whose love was too good to be true--

And it was.

Somewhere along the way,
I realized that that person didn't exist.

He never had.
You know who you are.
I'm not going to say it.

First of all, I'm full of clichés and apologies.
Forgive me later; the rest is more important.

I wish I could tell you aloud the things I've told you while you slept.
It comes in bursts, which you trigger, and lately I miss you even when you're next to me.
Because when you're next to me, you're not yourself.
You're not ready, or not alone.
You can be cruel.

But I know you better.
You've told me a thousand times, I know you best.
I know the broken pieces, locked away and swept under rugs.
I searched until you showed me.

And it's not a pretty picture, not all of it.
I've loved you despite yourself.

And you-- you know me, too.
You're the only one who knows it all, because you've been there for so much of it so far.
And the rest, I've shown you.
And you're the only one.

You're the only one who's seen nearly so much-- my broken pieces locked away and swept under rugs-- and has ever come back for more.
You're the only one who's done this outside the boundaries of friendship, although that's where we're standing now.

And you're the only one who's loved me despite myself.
And not because you had to.
When you see this, you, don't wig out. Don't make a big deal out of it. It's just a poem, and sometimes in poems, words work away from intentions. This isn't a plea or a confession. More than anything, it's a thank you.

Please don't make me regret this.
I can't remember exactly when the world ended;
I died alongside my fellow heathens.
Our memories are fuzzy.
Some of us swear to recall the flash.
Some say they remember the fires that burned us,
The waters that drowned us,
Or the winds that blew us all away.
Some further say we're still alive,
But that can't be true, can it?
I don't remember anything about it myself.
I remember things from right before.
Or, at least they feel like they were right before.
There could have been months in between, years even,
But I remember the face of a boy,
And his name,
And remembering him makes me feel like I never died at all.
I don't know what happened to him--
Whether he lived or died.
All I know is that he's not where we are.
I miss him a lot,
Especially since eternity feels like one long day.
The true apocalypse is a lonely apocalypse.
 Apr 2013 hello
XNtricity
I'm hitting my head against a tree
Because nothing is how I wish it would be
I'm cold 'cuz it's winter
Hope I don't get a splinter
You can find me here next spring
 Apr 2013 hello
XNtricity
FINITE
 Apr 2013 hello
XNtricity
Asleep in math class, not me, the matrices
Nobody cares about them it seems,
They lie, tucked in, drowsy between the textbook pages of more important chapters
But today, I finally saw the magic in them
The numbers dance
You can take two matrices, written in powdery chalk,
On the smooth, green ballroom floor on the wall
And watch, as if underwater, all is murmurs, all music
Comprehension of a different sort than paying attention
As the entries shift and multiply and add
Moving, sliding, locking into place like Tetris
And only some partners are compatible, and only under certain circumstances
2X3 and 3X5 meet in the middle, merge and mutate into 2X5
Two become one, each bringing their differences to the ball
New dimensions
Translating, the rows become columns and the whole constellation
Spins, twirling, kaleidoscope
Square matrices waltz
Others salsa and tango
Slowing, slowing, sinking into the final dip
Finding identity
1     0     0
0     1     0
0     0     1
And of course, there is no spoon. <3 to Bonnie even though that movie was weird
 Apr 2013 hello
XNtricity
Find a funny phrase
               A flighty feather
                         Let it tumble, twirl
                                Wonder, whirl
          Settle, softly on your nose
       To slip and fall,
        The loosed petal of a rose
             A skeleton autumn leaf
                             **** it with your toe
                                                  Pick it up and blow
                                                                up to the wind
                                                         No fickle feeling
                   Empty sentiment could understand
                 That breeze
                    When your feet
                           finally leave the ground
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