babydulle: Favorites

Jan 2015 babydulle

werewolf

Jan 2015 babydulle

Liam Lockey

werewolf

you traced constellations on my skin
and asked why i didn't let you in
a celestial state of mind
patientially waiting for a lightning strike
just a robot with skin and bone
and a daydream to call my own

just another werewolf
staring at the full moon

push your lips close to mine
so i can breathe a kiss
summer nights in the city lights
i think i'll be just fine
these ghosts finally put to rest
and another unholy mess

i tremble at the sound of my voice
and figured out i have a choice
so i'll be your werewolf

we can dance, we can sing,
we can do absolutely nothing
distant calls of reality
and your hands are my safety
with you i don't feel so alone
i feel more than a robot with skin and bone

Oct 2014 babydulle

oh god (aka gay panic)

Oct 2014 babydulle

g

oh god (aka gay panic)

let’s play truth or dare.
so we can mouth a hundred hymns at each other then remember
that we
are the only things we believe in.
i want to whisper in your ear
say how i think
that the first person made a thousand sounds and called them gods
and named them all after you.
nobody has ever been so beginning.

tell me back.
how you love the ash you find in between the pages of my favourite books,
i want to know that i’m here, cigarette burns and all.
i know we are both missing and that’s okay because nothing is whole.

have you ever wanted to become a straight line?
have you ever wanted to learn every single freckle?
name them with your teeth?
taste them under your tongue?
i have never been more silhouette, more oil on water,
more ‘please don’t leave’.

i have tasted your smoke under my tongue.
i have wanted to turn myself into a whisper,
i have breathed your name at the back of my throat.

i tell you
a girl is a safe place you can make yourself to shake in.
a body is something you can grow into,
or out of.
when the door is closed and you say that you’re home,
i hope you know what that means.
i hope you hold that weight to your chest.

i say ”i hope you come back soon.”
she says “ring me when you’re home safe.”

Sep 2014 babydulle

I don't care if the needle is dirty.

Sep 2014 babydulle

Tyler Durden

I don't care if the needle is *****.

Put on another record
Now let's lay together
You say it doesn't matter
Yet can't you hear the faint shatter?
Count back from ten
Please let's start again
I'm sick of this constricting quarantine,
baby can't you see?
You're my dopamine.

#love #heartbreak

Jul 2014 babydulle

The Piano Man

Jul 2014 babydulle

g

The Piano Man

In 2005 The Piano Man was found wandering the streets of Sheerness in a soaking wet suit and tie
he didn't say a word.
When presented with pad and pen he simply drew a grand piano.
His nurses sat him in front of a beat up old upright
he played for four hours straight;
for four months his hands were the only things to break his silence.

Alexandre Dumas said "man will never be perfect until he learns to create and destroy."
Do you ever think about how Beethoven hacked the legs off his piano so he could feel the sounds he couldn't hear in his head, through his chest?
And Van Gogh heard the sounds his paintings made but kept going until his sanity
was just a memory floating on a distant river under a tired Milky Way.
And you see, like a Gaelic folk song blindness runs red through my family,
so I know it's not much but I'm here, still trying to mould my hands to say the right form of 'I love you'.

And did you know that the human heart beats over 30 million times a year, but we still have a hard time keeping our feet on the ground?
And did you know that the act of breaking in a horse is actually the act of breaking it's back?
Like we can't sit without sitting on broken things.
And did you know that every time a mobile phone sends out a GPS signal a bee loses it's way home, and every bee that doesn't reach it's hive dies?

So on nights when your pulse matches the beat of my favourite song
you don't have to wonder if it's me matching the syncopation of your silence --
and I wonder if you ever found what you were looking for.
And I wonder if you realise that on days you're not here I roll up my sleeves,
count the beats without you,
sit on the backseat and miss you.
And somewhere The Piano Man rolls up his sleeves
creates the Big Bang under his fingertips.
And in 2005 on an April morning in Sheerness, a suited piano man walks straight into the ocean,
begs the current to take him.

I send you a message
a bee loses it's way home.
I send you another
another bee dies.
My chest cavity is a bumble bee crypt,
my tongue a honeyed graveyard.

Another message.
The Big Bang.
The hive.
A suit.
That ocean.
Another back is broken.
Another message is sent.
I fear I am more honeycomb than heart.

To create is to destroy. To destroy is to succeed.
And would you just look at what these piano hands have finally done.

Grace beadle 2014

#music #piano #idk #bees

Mar 2014 babydulle

Embedded

Mar 2014 babydulle

Liam

Embedded

She will lose herself in a book
and find herself in poetry

She thinks that religion is a sacrilege
and that long showers are sacred

She makes love when she's tired
and never tires of making love

She is irreverent in her humor
and pious in her gravity

She is diligent in completing her work
and ambitious of her quest for leisure

She is the personification of romanticism
and the embodiment of compassion

She exists harmoniously in my mind

Mar 2014 babydulle

I'm depressed. I'm high. And I have no idea what I'm writing

Mar 2014 babydulle

Damaged

I'm depressed. I'm high. And I have no idea what I'm writing

I was warming up tea and I put it in for a little too much time.
But it was too long so my tea boiled over and made a mess.
But that didn't mean I could never make tea again.
It just meant I had to wipe it up better and be more careful next time.
This reminded me of life.
That sometimes things bombard your life and everything happens at once.
And what happens?
You break
You boil over
But no matter what it is, not matter how much it hurts.
You just have to pick yourself up.
Brush off your hands.
And smile a little longer.

Jan 2014 babydulle

A Suicide Letter with your Name on Every Line

Jan 2014 babydulle

g

A Suicide Letter with your Name on Every Line

A suicide letter with your name on every line.
Love was a one way street and I was just trying to get by.
I had once been beautiful, I had once been strong,
But now I am the tempest that ripped the door from your hinges,
And I am destructive to everything inside.
I've tried to forget the way you cut your hair and the way you cut your meat,
But the cuts on my arm are just a reminder that
You were good with everything that involved a knife.

It's true what they say about becoming like your surroundings,
Because I've carved your name into my rib cage with consonants like a blade,
But you went behind my work and sliced deeper with every vowel.
I think it was my heart dying the day we left blood in your sheets;
I didn't know letting you inside of me meant being haunted by
Everything that remains and never left when you did.
Every pill on my tongue tastes like your mouth on my thighs.
The fire you left beneath my skin holds crimson relief and secret sin.

I thought the meaning of lust was to exclude love from the mix,
But you confused the two and now
I'm not so sure what love means.
I've hit rock bottom in the form of an avalanche
And the weight is far worse than the weight of you on top.
These demons are eating me alive and I see them in my dreams,
But my dreams are of your smile and I think
The good dreams are worse than the bad.

I find the irony in that.
I begged for your presence once in my uncertain attempt to survive.
You said some things you just cannot control, like why these bad things have happened.
Were you talking about yourself?
You said I had to be careful; "you never know when you will die."
I am aware now that, that was your greatest lie.
I died by your hand the day your poison left your lips.
My fight against death was your fight for life and
Every sting from your hips against mine nailed me further to
My own tombstone.

No one tells you that the monsters under your bed would
Show their face when you looked into the mirror.
The bags under my eyes look quite like the bags you left of
Bad memories and bad habits (they are all I have left).
You must understand that the screams from the roof tops could
End with a crack of my bones, and
You are to blame for the nights I cannot stop drowning from
The thoughts in my head.

If love was suicide you had as much life as spring and
I never made it through the chill of winter.
I've been taking medicine for the pounding in my head and now it suddenly makes sense.
My mind is sicker than I thought.
We have always only been human and I can only bend my heart so far;
But you needed me to be broken.
I cannot understand why you had to feel my break.
The death seeping through your pores brings out the colors in your eyes.
If needing you is suicide I know I'm going to die.

There is more to be said about the way it burns on my skin
Long after your hand has moved to another inch of my body.
The walls were filled with lies and I think your mouth wrote them itself,
At least they sound quite familiar and I wish I could say
"I feel safe."
The bathroom floor is covered with my blood, sweat, and tears
And I swear if you didn't know I loved you then, at least
I know you never loved me now.

I can't even love myself.
I've been told strangers cannot be trusted and I think that's when I became afraid of the mirror.
Being touched by you was like being awake after sleeping too long.
My heart was confused and disoriented,
But my hands never forgot what to do.
Loving you was the best pain I have ever felt.
Everything you are made of hurts but I love it, I still love it, I still love you.
This self inflicting torture has become my addicting sadness
And I know that's because it is as
Close to your heart as my trembling hands will ever reach.

If there was a stage in between life and death I think
I entered it the day your words ****** the life from me.

Jan 2014 babydulle

Know Not What You Should Say, But Know What Should Not Be Said

Jan 2014 babydulle

Reece

Know Not What You Should Say, But Know What Should Not Be Said

It was social experimentation
To be locked away, windowless
Four walls, perpetually fixed
- as his figure in a lightless room
Ears removed, mouth sewn closed
Eyes blinded, no light, no sound
Muted humanity, no dignity

He happened upon a laughing child
before the procedure
and that sound echoed inside
Deep within his bowels it reverberated
Through his blood
Distorted in his stomach
Youthful innocent laugh,
it grew monstrous
It began to talk
and the beast within was personified

Day one he lost his mind
Day two was still day one
(how irresponsive time becomes)
Day three the laugh became a growl
Day four the voices started
Day five in absentia
Day six he was done
Day seven, bizarre interim
- that between life and death

Profoundly lost in swingin' psychosis
Met by the devil in detailed cerebellum
Watched memories deteriorate
like some reel-to-reel burning, spluttering
His wife now only a hydrogen hallucination

Do you, the reader, know true loneliness?

The observation deck was packed on day eight
Muted, yet guttural screams of anguish
from deep within his throat
Were haunting reminders of the damaging effect
of psychological studies and the fragility of humanity

The cataract voids in his stoic face
they betrayed fear, and begged captors
for some respite from this hellish dream

Until in a tormented blinded haze, the voice was clear
His ears still dead, though this voice was true
Spoke but three subtle words
The subject experienced simultaneous neurological
Joy and fear
He had heard the de facto vocalisation of some supreme

he spoke them aloud
his only utterance

and the teary eyed scientists gathered
sterile needle
no words
dead.

Jan 2014 babydulle

sleepy eyes x bony knees

Jan 2014 babydulle

kat

sleepy eyes x bony knees

the days seem the darkest when you're in my passenger seat
you and me, two separate heartbeats
bare bones, headlights shine right through me
I look over, you're pierced blue,
I've always thought that I already know you.
but I don't know your life
and you don't know mine
quick to assume your dimensions,
thoughtless pretension
heartless, no question
refusing to fall for you,
I didn't want you to make sense.
but still your heart beats like mine,
and both of us feel like **** all the time,
with a past that speaks just as loud
and it might as well be foggy as the clouds
flashing like fireworks, then smoke all around
and you compare yours to autumn leaves falling down
lying awake, no trees no sound
no sleep no hands to pick you off the ground
no shoulders to cry, the same ones you sat on and reached towards the sky
I know what it's like,
to lose the one who brought you to life
cuz my best memories are in my dads passenger seat,
and I always promised I wouldn't cry,
because it's like he's not alive.
he's here, but not really
but I guess in lucky
and I'm so sorry that you lost him completely
but I promise baby,
this rain is gonna stop soon
and cloudy days like these will pass
put your faith in something else,
something that will last,
because you're way too good to give up yet
I wanna show you the sun
and how days can be brighter than the ones you try to forget,
there's more to all of this than darkness, loss, and pain
because there's always brightness after rain
and on days when you're drowning
and you hate who you are
remember you can change things if you just press on
so next time I look over, I want your hand in mine
and I want you to know that youve got more time than you realize
to make this right,
we might not last,
but you cant give up
these clouds are moving fast
remember whats above
lightning and thunder will always be there,
just remember this car will take you anywhere,
just tell me.
and ill be what you need me to be.

Jan 2014 babydulle

Scratch that.

Jan 2014 babydulle

Sebastian

Scratch that.

She was pretty.
Scratch that.
She was beautiful.
Scratch that too.

She was more beautiful,
Than a sunrise on a winter morning.
Or a rainfall on an autumn day
Where the leaves dance in the wind
And fill the sky with life.
More beautiful than a flower
That breaks through the cracks
Of a concrete garden
And brings color to the air.
She was more beautiful,
Than any poem that's ever been written.

She was beautiful.
Scratch that.
She still is.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
©Sebastian @http://hellopoetry.com/sebastian/