Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Dear society,

Stop trying to sober us up.
We’re young and bright
and beautiful and loud.
We will light up every
corner of every room
and still shine brighter
than the sun.

Stop telling us to cover up.
We will wear little black dresses
and bright red lipsticks,
leave lip-stains all over
your precious little world
and look so good doing it
that you’ll have to look away.

Stop telling us to slow down.
We live and love with so much
power and strength that we
cannot stop for you
or anyone, for that matter.
Every day is our day
and the world, our oyster.

Stop telling us we’re useless.
One day, we’re going to run the world
for you; going to be soldiers, doctors
writers, artists, speakers of the truth
and the truth is that we’re alive
and strong and here, and
you cannot control us.

From impatient, beautiful, and exuberant young girls everywhere.
Darkness.

He settles on my skin like an absent touch; His hands the hands of a past love tracing my outline and raising my skin.

He whispers to me in dreams. What was once, and what could be, he lingers in the thoughts I can't control.
He breathes silence in the space between us, enclosing every inch of my body in his icy exhalation.
He is the coldest of comforts.

He is fearful, but I do not fear him.

His chasm of understanding and attentiveness is an infinite book of blank pages to be filled. He hears me. He listens.

He Is the giver of time that nobody wants. He provides. When I am at war with my thoughts at 3 AM, he is on my side.
He does not lie, unless it is along side of me. On top of me. All around me. He is consuming.  

He is untrustworthy, but I have given him mine.

He is the quietest of melodies. His song cradles me into sleep, and I feel him beside me as I drift away.
When I awake in the morning he has always left, but is never really gone.
In the brightest of rays, I can still see him.

He controls me like an illness, but only with my consent.

Darkness.
If ever I wanted to leave him, would he let me?
Could I cleanse my soul after his touch?  
If I ignored his approach in the eve,
would he still be kind to me when the daylight faded?


I'm afraid to find out.
 Sep 2014 An Uncommon Poet
r
whiskey whispers
sound like you

a burning smokey river
-fire down below

kiss my fever

whiskey whispers-
get me through.

r ~ 9/21/14
\¥/\
   |     •
  / \
 Sep 2014 An Uncommon Poet
RILEY
You forgot your pictures
On forgotten bed side tables
In the back of my brains.
I was supposed to sleep two hours ago,
But I was busy tracing the tracks
You’ve crossed with your fingers on my skin;
And when I reach the end of the map
I don’t find a treasure
Instead I find your dead cells
Lurking on my shoulders
Like dust lurking on my book shelves,
Like tanned blondes stretching on the sea shore,
Like red and blue highlights that you’ve kept for so long.
I found your sea shelled bracelets
And 3 fingered rings exciting,
I found the simplicity of you wearing no necklace soothing,
But I knew that I was at the peak of a roller coaster ride-
When everything slows down,
When that loose feeling of safety
Tingles up your spine
And stays long enough
To amplify the shock of falling suddenly.
I picked up a flower shaped safety pin
And as soon as I brought it close enough to smell
Your grenades exploded in my face.
Instead of shattering,
I blew up into a thousand words
That can make oceans of me ,
And instead of you swimming
You learned how to drown;
Avoid my words,
Swim through the sharks and create jewels out of my sea shells
Till I become just another
Pendant from your arms,
Or glitter on the corners of your backpack
Where you hanged memories you force outside
Because the demons inside are not on good terms,
Because the demons inside of you are screeching
But you don’t want the world to hear;
Yet you left your pictures on my bed site tables,
And you meant to keep a retraceable mark of you on my hands
And you want me to come back,
But your mines were too dangerous.
Your mood swings
Flew me over the bushes,
Your cigarette smoke, filtered in my lungs
Made it hard for me to breath out the words “I love you”,
Your eyes are my only solace
But sometimes,
It takes less effort to exit home
Than to stay in it.

— The End —