Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Beanie Sep 9
i silently look at his face, still against the blanket. he has fallen asleep, curled up against me. he looks much more peaceful like this, and the sound of the lake amplifies this serenity.

the stars are bright, and i have been tracing mars’s path across the sky, immersing myself in the constellations. i am avoiding my true feelings, buried deep beneath denial, despite all previous interactions. even the current state of affairs, cuddled against each other under the stars, legs entwined and fingers in hair, can’t force me to acknowledge the ever-growing warmth in my chest when i look at him.

there are many problems with the ache settled into my chest, the least of which being the ocean that separates our homes. he is a $1,000 trip away from me after this summer, something i cannot do. he is the type of boy my father would dislike, and the type of boy my mother would be wary of.

yet he has fallen asleep holding me after pressing kisses to my neck and hands. he has caressed my thighs and hips, traced the lines of my collar bones, and now he is pressed against me, one hand entangled in my hair, the other laced through my fingers.

the mood tonight is different. in the past, it has been about ***, about proving dominance over each other. but now. now it is vulnerable, soft and trusting. he isn’t pulling my hair to bite my throat and neck, but rather combing his fingers through my hair, and pressing gentle kisses to the nape of my neck, where it greets my spine.

this shift, this sudden flux in the existence and nature of our relationship, is what buries the hatchet into my aching heart. it can no longer be just flirting, just *** to me. we have shown each other our vulnerabilities, and there is no going back. i am in love, but i cannot speak for him. only hope.
its been a long time, friends. enjoy.
Beanie May 8
i am
cold toes and ripped jeans,
scalding tea and fake smiles,
too dangerous to love.

i am
worse than you think,
faded scars on hips and wrists,
ragged combat boots held together by duct tape.

i am
coffee breath in the morning,
chattering teeth in the afternoon,
a headache in the evening.

i am
in love with being in love,
too afraid to live properly,
draped in the color black.

i am
more than I can handle,
shining brighter than I thought,
waiting for the world to end.

i am
twisted, broken, and desperate,
shattered glass on a tile floor,
blood stains on old sheets.

i am
an art form gone awry,
burnt and discarded matches,
broken hearted and hopeful.


i am
glassy and bloodshot eyes,
shaking hands,
***** coffee mugs sitting in the sink.

i am
a skipping CD,
a restless night’s sleep,
shadows under eyes that look more like bruises.

i am
wholly and entirely me,
wrapped in flannel and denim and crystals,
something no one else can replicate.
i'm just myself
Beanie Mar 13
i want to write about him.
to capture his essence between pages,
like a flower plucked and left to dry.

the way his pink lips bowed,
the soft curve of his neck,
the muscled ***** of his shoulders,
the valley of his lower back.

i want to preserve his image,
his brown hair,
smooth, tan skin,
and shining eyes.

i want to press the feather-light caresses,
hold them between the paper pages
of some long forgotten book.
i want to remember every second,
every tiny instant,
of our love.
i wrote this ages ago after a breakup. i certainly don't look back like this any more, it's been years.
Beanie Feb 26
do you know what it's like?

to take a blade to your hips
and let denial fall willingly off your lips?

do you know what it's like?

to be broken before you had the chance to bend
and to desperately search for a way to make things end?

do you know what it's like?

to lie awake at night and cry
and have nothing get better despite how hard you try?

do you know what it's like?

to feel battered, weak, and small,
and have every thought turn in on itself like a mirrored hall?

do you know what it's like?
i hope you don't.
Beanie Feb 20
broken girl, pick yourself up.
wipe those tears off your chin,
and spit into the dust.

dig in your heels,
give ‘em that glare
you know works so well.

plant your feet,
refuse to move for anyone in your way.
you aren’t to be messed with.

broken girl, show ‘em what you’re made of-
blood, sweat, and tears,
real and solid.

you’re gonna be here for centuries
with an attitude like that,
so gear up, girl, get going.

you ain’t so broken now,
bared teeth and clenched fists,
you’re swinging for those who hurt you.

don’t raise a hand to the helpless, girl,
extend one instead,
you were there once.

lift yourself up high,
but don’t forget your roots,
you’ve got more power than you think.
Beanie Jan 29
did i ever tell you
about the way your hair
shines in the sun?

did i ever tell you
about the way your eyes
sparkle with mischief?

i don’t believe i have.

allow me to,
grant me this one favor,
my only request from you.

let me tell you about
the way you smile,
nothing could make me happier.

let me tell you about
the decadence of your voice,
nothing could bring me more joy.

let me tell you about
your passion for what you love,
nothing could be more exciting.

have you had your fill?

eaten and drank enough words
that you might sink
to the bottom of a river and settle there?

have you enjoyed yourself yet?

have you found happiness?

have you felt contentedness in the warmth of your chest?

stay at the bottom of the river,
lover,
where your hair is a dull gleam,
your eyes glassy and vacant.

stay sunken and stuffed,
your smile vacuous,
your words unspoken,
your passion swallowed down.

are you worried yet?

can you still move?
still breathe?

are you certain of yourself,
of your surroundings?

where are you?

are you still alive, even?

is your heartbeat strong as it was moments ago?

this is no love poem,
this is a ****** poem.

this is where i drown you,
fill your lungs with your arrogance
the same way i filled your ego with words.

this is where i cross the line,
from love to hate,
fire to ice.

i am your lover,
am i?
Next page