Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
grace Nov 5
the jokes of the students fill the room. it makes it easier to cope with the ceaseless projects assigned.
empty eyes stare back at the professor, paralyzed with academic indifference.

the ball of stress explodes in my stomach.
six more weeks. six more weeks.

I know I will be okay, but I cannot see the end. Much less imagine the relief.
u n i t s
grace Jul 2018
go away, go away
the hand reaches and retreats

the pulse of the drums shook your heart out of its senses
clutching your chest
"not yet"
"you have work to do here"
"but i want to be with you,"
knowing, it wasn't a question.
i must stay..

you're so desperate for that touch of heaven
grace Jul 2018
the little white polaroids sit on the floor
trembling in the sunlight
slowly, their colors fade

"she knows"
"i just wanted to let you know that she told me she told you"
grace May 2018
you do know.

because on that late night
at the beginning of summer
it was on the cold side of perfect
but your insecure *** had on a sweater
and i loved you still.

constantly misused.

lungs colapsing,
like pushing in the little tongue of a milk carton.
so i fell, feeling through the cracks in my logic, in a place where it never got cold and there was too much light pollution.
grace Apr 2018
she sat there, just sobbing into her sleeves.
the five of us watched in dismay with heavy eyelids. it was late.
i stood up and slumped next to her, putting my arms around her.
we all stared at each other.
what was there to say?

and i was tired and smiling and everything else.
i hope i never see an angel cry for a lost soul again.
grace Apr 2018
thoughts overlap
the voices merge into a whole vibration
gelid tiles
struck by thick humming of embarrassment
my eyes flick back to the stars, i wonder when they’ll get farther
i always feel my thoughts freeze and crack away
hi guys!! getting back on my feet is getting easier by the moment... i feel good. hbu guys?
grace Mar 2018
sprite burns my lips
i don’t usually listen to answers
because i usually don’t ask questions.
since, i have been a variation of the original “me”
whatever that is.
music notes pop
like balloons with confetti that aren’t celebrating anything.
like bad timing.
frequent words spill and hit my ears
and then crash onto the floor.
i talk quickly lest you walk away.
Next page