Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Amelia Jan 2014
the peonies in the front yard are just starting to bloom.

the only thing i lust for anymore is sleep.
my fingers are aching to touch another human being,
and when a woman lugging around her child
in a stroller asked me the time,
i dropped the package i'd been collecting
from the post office
while fumbling for my phone.
i cried on the way home,
and applied a thick coat
of red lipstick.
thinking perhaps the camouflage of confidence
would hide the fact that i am merely
wilting husk of vapidity.

the peonies in my yard will die
in six weeks.
Amelia Jan 2014
when you love yourself,
don't apologize to the voices in your head
that make you feel like a liar.
speak the truth,
you won't have to remember so much.
when you tell yourself
that you deserve it,
you probably don't.
don't be so afraid
of a ******* sunburn
because at least
you'll be warm.
Amelia Jan 2014
THE SMELL OF YOUR HAIR MAKES ME WANT TO VO
MIT BUT THEN AGAIN SO DOES EVERYTHING. IF I BRE
ATHE IN ANY MORE OF THIS FILTERED AIR MY BILE W
ILL COVER THE CARPET. AT TWO IN THE MORNING I W
ONDER IF THE PORTLY MAN WHO ORDERED A SALAD
THAT HE DIDN'T REALLY WANT AT MCDONALD'S COU
LD TELL THAT THE GIRL HE ASKED TO SUPERSIZE HIS F
RIES PERFECTLY RESEMBLED A TEACUP WITH A CRACK
JUST BIG ENOUGH TO LET YOUR PRETENTIOUS ******
G BLACK COFFEE SPILL THROUGH. SHE RAN HER HAN
D ACROSS THE STAR TATTOOS HIDDEN BEHIND HER EA
R BEFORE SHE HANDED HIM HIS CHANGE AND I WONDE
RED IF I COULD OFFER HER A CIGARETTE BEFORE THE GR
EY VAN THAT LOOKS LIKE CONCRETE COMES TO TAKE HER
BACK TO THE JAIL SHE RESIDES IN. MY SKIN IS TURNING
THE SAME COLOR GREY AS THAT VAN AND I AM SEEING
NEW VEINS IN MY ARM AND I AM A SLOUCHED WITHER
ING ENSEMBLE OF DECAY DESTINED TO DIE IN A POOL OF
***** AND BURIED IN THE VERY EARTH THAT KILLED ME
Amelia Jan 2014
waking up from nightmares
of waking up in a morgue,
i question if i really want to die.
but then each word
i hear feels
like a hot needle against my skin
and i sleep for hours
hoping to wake up
on that cold
metal
slab.
i hate this one im sorry
2014 edit: i still hate this one ***
Amelia Jan 2014
everyone needs
to leave me alo
ne because it hu
rts me too look
at them and I d
on't know wher
e I am and the
bed reeks of s
ex and laundry
detergent and
when I die will
my hair be stra
ightened? mak
e up my own fu
cking lyrics and
cry a lot and c
ount my allies
on my fingertip
s when did eve
ryone start hati
ng me?? am I
going to hell? i
s this hell? mu
sic isn't beaut
iful anymore b
ecause of you,
you ******* fu
ck why do I ev
en bother with
you why did I
even talk to yo
u you were alm
ost as ****** a
s I am!!! I'm sca
red to stick it t
o the man
Amelia Jan 2014
i never thought i'd pray
but you got me on my knees.
staring at the sky in
the middle of the night,
freezing cold and wondering
if scars fade in heaven.
each shot-glass
that held the promise of warmth
tasted like embalming fluid.
i asked myself if the
soul spread all the way
to my fingertips,
and was faced with the bitter
realization that nothing
is irreversible
and even death has become
as ephemeral as a bruise.
tw scars, cw alcohol
Amelia Dec 2013
all the lightbulbs in the world won't keep me warm

the intricacy of lines on your palm won't save you from a ****** future

god is hiding in the bruises on their knees

eat me out and leave a husk

they drowned me in an ocean of ***** and blood
Next page