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Sep 2014 · 665
Untitled
ange Sep 2014
Mumble sweets,
like the taste of a cigarette,
into my ear
while i pretend to be flattered.  

A wounded dog-
I want to give up.  

Spit on my grave when I am buried.  
I want to dissolve into your coffee.
Drink me up,
swallow me whole,
touch me when I ask you not to-
but gently.  
You ruin me.
Aug 2014 · 541
An Uneventful Afternoon
ange Aug 2014
I don't feel so hollow, today,
but I'm smart enough to know that doesn't last.
I keep remembering dreams I've had,
like shopping around Paris with no cash.
The breeze tickles my hair,
she laughs in my face,
I push her away.
But if it were you,
I'd probably ask you to stay.
I'm mad at me for including you
in every ******* thing I write.
I need a  drug dealer.
Written Monday, August 18, 2014 at 3:36 PM at a park.
Aug 2014 · 1.1k
Convince Me
ange Aug 2014
I am convinced
that the thud in my chest is just you playing ding **** ditch
that every time my throat gets itchy
it’s just the first thing you said to me that day
trickling down inside of me
“I was with someone…”
ellipses as if you were unfinished, unsure, unwilling
burning my eyes
my fingers
my tongue,
like spices.
And I am convinced
that my only friend is the automatic toilet in the library’s first floor restroom,
catching me with every dry heave, holding it down for me, making noise so no one else can hear me sob your name.
I am convinced
that my pillow has seen more water than Noah.
my baths smell of the day we spent
kissing on your soda stained sheets.
sleep
stress
I am convinced
that the involuntary trembling my body withstands is caused by the earthquakes in your eyes,
the feel of your warmth on my *******.
But the depth of your voice on the phone when you said, “I love you too much,” wasn't enough to convince me of anything.
**** this, honestly.
Aug 2014 · 415
What Is
ange Aug 2014
What is missing you beside the specks of yellow spread across the couch from morning light through barely open blinds?
What is tasting you beside the feel of cold hands on your sweaty skin to sooth your mind?
Lover, what is craving you beside the smell of musky night beginning to surround as everything you touch turns into mud from leaves crushed in the dirt?
Lover, what is smelling you beside the silence falling through the river as it moans of hearts that have been hurt?
Started on August 12, 2014 at 6:55 AM
Finished August 16, 2014 at 3:18 AM
Aug 2014 · 438
In Other Words
ange Aug 2014
The world is ugly, but I am pretty.
Well, that's what he tells me.
It's the others we don't trust.
Well, that's what they say.
And, Keeping your sleeves pulled down
ensues questionnaires.
Keeping your socks on during ***
implies issues.
Chapped lips mouthing curse words,
plush stomachs,
innocuous insecurities.
Do they exist?
Do you?
Without a single thought about it in your head,
you no longer know
a misconstrued life styled puzzle
for your hands only.
Piece together a forceful way
to stuff yourself inside a place you don't fit into.
Find yourself.
Between my legs there is a sad girl.
A cosmic interlude loops in her iris
when you are able to see your breath,
untouchable,
but warm.
You feel
held
held
held.
****.
my name
my name
my name
is not pronounced the way it's spelled.
baseless arrangement,
mindless pleasures,
moaning louder than your voice could ever be,
better than your heart could ever wish.
for you,
love you.
for me,
love me.
I'm sorry.
Written at 6:14 AM, August 12, 2014.  Revisions of something written on July 1, 2014.
Aug 2014 · 559
Whole
ange Aug 2014
Trying,
so very little,
but trying
to forget your face,
your taste.
Your tongue was ****
and a little of me-
sad-
between the eyes especially,
and
nothing feels the way it did with you.
Missing you hurts worse than breathing.
Like reaching over my shoulders
to feel a nonexistent warmth.
Chapped lips
whisper hot into cool air,
blocking my vision,
eternalizing the way you ****** my heart.
Written at 4:33 PM August 13, 2014
Aug 2014 · 532
Your Dorm
ange Aug 2014
I still miss you.
Suitcases unpack themselves slowly in your room.
Posters are out.
They've seen us kiss, touch.
They've felt the tension in our hands, our spines.
Even the glitter in your eyes is struck with lust.
I am a child, hungrily ******* at the air at two AM.
Your name is a rattle, teasing me in the blackness of night.
I have dreams you say you're sorry,
but then,
I wake up.
Written at 5:25 AM on July 10, 2014.
Aug 2014 · 506
Forgiveness
ange Aug 2014
Another sleepless night-
it's after five.
I've searched for your voice,
but I seem to have lost it
to the gap I left between
what should have never been good bye
and now.
I miss you,
and I ****** it up.
I mourn memories
we never got the chance to share-
my hand in your hair,
yours on my hip,
tongues entwined,
noses touching.
I want you back.
I want you back so bad,
but distant, still.
I want to draw flowers on your skin,
fall in love with your smell
in your slacks
with your toothbrush.
I still see the stars in your teeth.
God.
I miss you so much, now.
written at 5:16AM on Saturday, July 21, 2014.  Birds were singing.  I had just sent him a risky text asking for forgiveness.

— The End —