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Dara Slick May 2016
How did I get here?
Awake at 4 am,
With the sound of jazz piano echoing through my brain.
The heat is thick on my skin.

That trance runs away with the bass.
It's 4 am so I wrote a poem. Woot!
Dara Slick Jul 2018
How can we get a cold in the summer?
90 degrees isn't warm enough to prevent it?
I know the logistics, heat doesn't cure a cold,
and yet there is something odd about getting a cold in the midst of July.

It may be worse in the summer.
The shivers matched with heat waves,
from either the illness or a faulty AC unit.
I don't want to miss the beach, but the thought of wearing anything less than my sweatsuit is nauseating.

How can we get a cold in the summer?
The sun is filled with vitamin D,
the vitamin of illness prevention.
Why am I buying tissues and cough drops,
and not margaritas and shrimp.
I can't even eat shrimp,
I'm allergic.
Although, that may be better than a cold in the midst of July.
I have never had a summer cold before, and it is the worst. Morally and physically.
Dara Slick Jun 2018
I opened up,
like a daisy in the crack of an old road.
You were kind when you told me I shouldn't grow there,
and then you picked me.
I wasn't mad either.
You were gentle,
kind, and I got the message.

Perhaps, friendship blooms better on the sidewalk.
Rejection isn't so bad. I'm content, if it works it works. If not, why force it?
Dara Slick May 2018
Lately I've been longing for you. We spent a lot of time together in the four years we both have been here. I find the mistake I made, back then, and realize it is too late to tell you how connected to you I felt and how I wish I had chosen you. I see you no where around. I get no tasty morsel of your existence to keep me sane, and yet here I sit happy you are happy. You'll never know how much I miss you, because I can't say it. Pride inhibits me, and you are locked in a love that I'm sure suits you well. Just know, as a better version of myself, you made my 19th year and my 21st year the best they could have been. I will never forget you, because you were the first chemical connection I have ever experienced with another human. Who knows if it will happen again, if not you will be the one that got away. For now you are just out of reach, but the world knows where we will end. I just hope for me, you are a part of it.

I miss him, and I'm mad I ****** up. C'est la vie.
Dara Slick Nov 2017
I am here, in silence,
I am there, alone.
There is no company in between time frames.
Loneliness creates its own memories,
and all are dark and injected with painful aesthetic.

Emotion will do as it pleases, and very few feel how deep it goes.
And so it goes,
I sit here,
My mind is there,
and the thought is the same no matter where I sit.
Sad and lonely,
Alone and okay.
There is no explanation for this, just experience,
And even this is no true explanation for a feeling so comforting and sad.

It just is.
melancholy days await me
Dara Slick Nov 2017
You're a blessing.
You don't need to think so,
you just need to know,
I do.
4 annoymous
Dara Slick May 2018

-If I was a good writer wouldn't I already be famous?
-If I was a good writer wouldn't people ask to read what I write?
-If I was a good writer wouldn't I have all A's?
-If I was a good writer wouldn't sending in my work be easier
-Wouldn't I fear rejection less?
-If I was a good writer wouldn't I have a clue?

Not Good

-I want to write regardless
I just want to write. Until I die, or until my arms fall off.
Dara Slick Jan 2018
I want to spend every day in a bar.
Drunk or not,
the atmosphere relaxes me.
To read a book,
to chat it up,
to get knockered too early.
I want to do it all in a bar.
Preferably one made of dark wood and many stories.

To become a regular looks bad in retrospect,
because no one believes its a place of good tidings.
It is though.

*****, bourbon, bar tenders ears.
Therapy free of charge. (unless you order something)

I want to spend my life in a bar,
sad to the public,
but bliss on my tombstone.
I love bars, they fuel me.
Dara Slick Jan 2018
I was up last night,
every hour on the hour.

For 7 hours.

I felt the pain begin in my stomach,
and travel so sharply and slowly down my organs.
I realized around 3 AM,
that pain can make anyone believe in God.
If only long enough to pray for the ending of their misery.

When the sun began to rise,
I felt my eyes heavily weigh shut,
and the pain ******* my all hopes of anything longer than fifteen minutes of rest.
I was up all night suffering. I am so tired.
Dara Slick May 2018
I used to hate the sunshine,
but I'm beginning to embrace it.
The way it warms my goosebumps,
and carries me through the day.

I used to hate the blue skies,
gray was so much calmer.
The color didn't seem so bad,
as I opened the blinds this morning.

I always hated compliments,
they seemed so disingenuous.
I find now a days I am waiting,
for someone to enjoy something I do.

I always tell people I'm good,
to avoid the conversations.
I'm okay with saying the truth now,
I'm fine.
Life is always hard, but I have a roof over my head, food on my plate, and a family that loves me. Everything else is just trivial.
Dara Slick Nov 2017
Brought to the surface by ambitious hands,
Soft and full of potential.
Potential to be, perhaps to change lives and looks from stuffy professors pretending to enjoy the intelligent atmosphere.
Wedged into a perfect square block of choice and expression.

The soft hands of change embracing the flexible surface of a grade or an emotional outlet.
Pulling or smoothing surfaces
Adding and subtracting noses and ears like a plastic surgeon working on his greatest celebrity success.
Who knows?

A base,
A beginning figure for the mother Mary or baby Jesus,
Perhaps a David.
Details etched into skin.
Icing, sprinkles, candles said to be the finishing touches,
The exciting part the child looks forward to adoring and blowing out in the center of the room,
While the important people watch and film.
Making memories and plans.
Into the kiln to finalize the decisions and silence the questions that scratch at the door of the artist day and night until he can put them to bed.
Hot and hardened like a man at a ******* aching to end and forget the days of innocence.

Times up.

Removed from the heat and placed on a shelf awaiting a hand to paint a beautiful lie on it.
Colors to attract that rebel at the back of the class and perhaps comfort his lonely ensemble for even a moment.
Back to the kiln to finalize the personality developed over time by one who wishes to be noticed.

The moment has finally dawned,
Life feels final and successful.
Full-filling the goals set by one.
The air caresses smooth and painted skin,
As this idol of purity and stillness is transported from truck to pedestal,
Surrounded by white walls and cold floors.
A library of emotional creations that words couldn’t capture,
A movie no one understands but yet tears are always present for.

Years go by and beauty diminishes,
Stories and laughter take its place.
Marriage proposals and inspiring speeches from teachers who feel nostalgia towards me.
For I have been there her whole life.
I stand upon that white pedestal,
Still and silent like I was from the moment I was pulled out the ground.
I love ceramics
Dara Slick May 2016
Your body is a temple.
My body is a dumpster.
I'd never feed it meat,
but chemicals taste as simple as celery.
I'd promote myself for being okay,
but nothing is ever okay anymore.

you're beautiful
to you perhaps,
but what do you matter to me?
I eat to survive,
and I starve to live a happier life.

It'll never be enough.
But that's on me,
just like all the cereal I just spilled.
*everyone has their problems*
Dara Slick May 2018
I fell in love last night.

He was in my life, briefly, then he was gone.
but, he was in my dreams last night,
and he loved me too.

I fell in love with him inside me,
that was the hint.
He was the missing puzzle piece,
in that dream.

I want to see him again,
but he is, in real life, far away.

He is taken by someone,
more likely,
to deserve him.

I let them all get away,
the good ones.

I can't say whether its due to the setting,
being the wrong time or place, or

Could it be me?
it could.

It probably is.
I fell in love last night,
and I will dwell on that until,

Further notice.
dreams always remind me of people I once loved. If it was for 2 minutes, an hour, or two days, my mind will remind me that I let them go.
Dara Slick Apr 2018
I had to leave,
You were there.
You were with your friends,
You looked so thin and handsome,
Your jaw like a knife.

I know you have a happy life,
Things are good and you have someone.
You look happy.
I’m happy you are happy.

But I had to leave,
Because even if I am happy for you,
Seeing you wets my palette.

And I am dehydrated for you.
this is older, but I remember this moment in time.
Dara Slick Nov 2017
"I'm so in love with her."
"Her smile is what men, from decades ago, sang of."
"I saw her across a room, and my taint and lips caught fire."
"I wanted to show her everything I could before she decided to go."
"My heart sang, instead of my ****, for the first time."

"I'm in love with her."

"I couldn't stop watching her drink from a glass which i knew was full of straight whiskey. She is so strong."
"Her eyes were so bright, i felt them hold me. I must be so cliche"

"I wanted her kiss. I could already tell how soft her lips would be."

"I wanted her."
"I love her."
I use her as a pronoun, but it could be either. I just felt like her fit here.
Dara Slick Nov 2017
I played each game,
I finished strong.
We talk about things I have little interest in,
I want it to end.

I can smell the cool air from the back of the room,
and I can't wait to embrace it entirely when I exit.

It smells like snow and family time,
if that could be a smell.

It smells,
like an addiction.
Addicted to sadness and love as a team.
Dara Slick May 2018
If I had a problem,
it would affect my work.
If I had a problem,
I wouldn't be working.
If I had a problem,
I'd be unhappy.
If I had a problem,
I would know.

I might have a problem.
i just need to cool it
Dara Slick Feb 2018
I do my homework,
with diligence.
Or so I say.

I started a blog,
I'm proud.

I can't spell very well,
and editing isn't my strong suit either.

I think all I have going for me,
is my personality.

I did write a blog Read if you want.
Dara Slick May 2016
Patience is everything I try to be on a daily basis,
Listening to stories and songs weave in and out of my ears slowly and somehow all to fast.
The pure mint tea tingling my taste buds,
Separating my thoughts from collision.
Waiting for a call or response from someone who promised me words would be exchanged sooner than later.
The suns retreating from my view and readying itself for others out there.
Work was accomplished and thoughts were had,
Casually slipping pills into my drink for pain I no longer feel these days.
Dim lights and fuzzy eyes trick me into believing I’m doing fine.

Pills are such a big deal for folks around here,
Their small bodies waiting to absorbed into the blood and erase all trace of stress and sadness.
Warmth embraces my skin and paints my cheeks a gentle pink.
Heavy eye lids and silly chuckles to end the day.
I’m not sad or empty,
I’m just a writer.
Sitting at a window absorbing facts.
Dara Slick Nov 2017
Thats the kind of ugh you say,
the kind you feel deep in your heart,
and in your *****.
I saw him.
In all his glory,
he didn't even see me.
It was ******* to see his face.
I never see him anymore,
and I didn't notice how much I missed him until,
until he was there,
lips on his drink,
so sensually.

I considered him a glass of whiskey,
for a long time I didn't feel anything but how good he tasted,
but now I'm drunk.
All I want is a bottle of him,
to hoard away.

I want to taste him on my lips,
his happiness and lust.
But he is busy tasting other flavors.
It doesn't bother me,
I'll wait.

He is so addicting.
I want a lifetime supply.
Maybe one day.
If he sees this he will probably know who he is. So you're welcome, doll. But he will have to miss me first.
Dara Slick Jan 2018
They say it takes 7 years to completely loose a whole layer of skin cells.
I don't remember when I started,
so I can imagine I have shed a bit of skin in the 22 years I have been alive.
Perhaps this year really, physically, will be,
a new me.

But probably not.
First poem of the year. Done and done. Time to move on.
Dara Slick May 2016
I chase one with the other,
And hope for the best.
Dara Slick Nov 2017
I have no sadness for those who weep alone.
I feel only compassion,
because when the world gets painful there is no cure.
No word that can fix a broken heart,
and who would want it to.

I see people speak of suicide too often,
I stopped feeling sad for them and started to nod my head along.
Because what feels better than someone trying to stop you?
Being understood.
Being connected.

If we die today,
by our hand,
or by another,
at least we had each other for a moment.

To me that feels better,
than an empty comment.

and maybe you'll stay with me,
to wallow.
I don't think the answer is suicide, but its a real thought. Try to understand.
Dara Slick Nov 2017
The air is brand new.
It smells like cold water, and snow,
snow and silence.
I feel the family members creeping up around the corner.
They want to know if I have a boyfriend,
or a job, or a baby.

I have a drinking problem,
a one person apartment,
a long list of things to do.
But I am here.

I smell turkey and cranberries,
and a spilled glass of a sticky beverage.
I see men on the television tackling each other,
and men on the couch yelling at the men on the television.
I hear the murmur of judgmental old bags,
and the wind blows through the empty trees.
I feel the cold bitter air freeze my limbs,
and the dryness of my skin against my jeans.
I taste bitter black coffee and strong golden liquor,
It stings every ***** it hits,
and numbs the rest of me,
inhibition included.

November is here,
to titillate the senses.
empty months that I love so dear
Dara Slick Feb 2018
Oh no,
look how long I've waited.

I am minutes,
away from being a person who must fend for herself.

I'm not ready,
emotionally or mentally.

I like wild wings in bed,
in my pajamas.
I like scraping up cash for *****,
that will make me drunk,
and do questionable things.
I love not caring what other adults think of me,
they have all been electrocuted of their personality anyway.

I like being able to fail knowing,
others do it too.

But not as an adult.
No more fails,
and no more bed wings.

No more me.
Being an adult is a pain in the *** and I really truly want nothing to do with anything.
Dara Slick Jun 2018
I came out as pansexual.
I felt like being specific,
which is not unusual.

No one turned their head,
no one batted their lashes,
and that was nice.

I did it for those too afraid to be different,
those wondering if it could look normal.
It can,
and it is.

You can be quiet,
read books,
take naps,
and love your mother.

Sexuality is within and without.
It can follow the rules or break them,
and it can be as boring as vanilla ice cream.

You can scream it from the mountains,
or whisper it to the passing breeze.

But it is for you to cherish.
I came out, not that it actually changes anything for me.
Dara Slick Nov 2017
I love to be sad.

I adore heaviness in my chest as I inhale.

Nothing makes my heart beat as loud and as strong as sadness.

I feel so alive when hot salty drops of pain slide down my cheeks.

Sorrow is a beautiful thing,

so full of love and care towards undeserving things.

Heartbreak is but an open wound filling us up with life.

I've never felt so raw and relevant in this world.

Happiness can be so numbing,

constant smiling and genuine warmth will dry out your heart like a raison.

Sorrow is moving,

desires broken in two million pieces,

hidden under bones of victims and their killers.

What good can come from a constant state of euphoria?

I love to be sad,

for the dead and then living,

for the living who are dead from ecstasy in life.

I may be nobody,

but in that I am infinite,

and in forever I am sorrow.

Constant and gentle upon quiet matters of the heart.
sometimes sadness is a soft blanket
Dara Slick Nov 2017
We do not know each other,
you beautiful viewer.
You read my words and I read yours,
here you are.
You and I,
sharing intimacy over this poem.

I hope my words caress your heart,
your day,
your soul.
Take them in any way you wish,
a­ny way that floats your boat.

I want you to smile,
and tear up.
Feel my words wrap around you like a hug,
you beautiful stranger.

I love that we have this,
this time and space,
so intimate.

I love you,
I love when people read my poetry, and you deserve the best.
Send me comments, and conversational messages.
I'd love to know you.
Dara Slick May 2016
I have never loved a stranger before you,
and even you confuse me.
Here we are, though,
eye contact from across a coffee bar.
I see the darkness in your eyes,
I'd like to explore this haven of the unknown.

I had left you there behind the coffee and tea,
alone in that pool of tension, we began.
I left you to drown.
Drown in my love you stranger of darkness.
Dara Slick Feb 2018
To deny ones tendencies is foolish,
they will escape sooner or later.
the build up is dangerous.

and ****.

Just remember,
hunger will only suffice when you learn the truth of the world.

The bloodiest,
juiciest part of the ****,
is the heart.
Inspired on this Thursday morning.
get hungry.
Dara Slick Nov 2017
to Love a human being,
is to die.
to open your soul,
is to feel fire crisp your skin,
and to suffer,
is to be truly enlightened.
Short and hopefully sweet
Dara Slick Jul 2018
You told me you cared.
You picked me from the street, me,
just a daisy in the road.
I trust you to re-plant me on the side walk, or in a garden.
You set me down all nice and dainty,
and left.

I assumed i'd see you again when you needed to walk past, but you came back for only one thing.
You sprayed me with **** killer.
You saw I was a flower,
moved me,
then tried to **** me.

Little did you know, I was immune.
He may have been a bit more heartless than expected, I am okay now though.
Dara Slick Jan 2018
I feel the pain in my lower back,
from the low blows life throws.
I am so afraid to speak to the people in my life,

it took me four months just to finish this,
and I don't even like it.

That is what failure feels like.
failure is a bee sting
Dara Slick Nov 2017
I love cold air,
because it feels like its cleaning my skin.
I love the smell of coffee,
because it comforts my nose and mind at the same time.
I love the months from September through December,
because family comes together to love and to be loved.
I love flying at night,
because air port bars are so lonely and poetic.
I love eating after a long day,
because everything tastes better after you waited for it.
I love the season of fall,
because it is so colorful and crisp.

I love this person,
because if I killed someone he would be there to help me bury them.
got real dark there at the end.
Dara Slick May 2018
"You are special, you are a special girl."

"So I've been told."

"You’re special to me."


"I just want to cuddle you.
I can’t express myself enough. "

"I am not cuddly. Sorry, but not really."

"I can change that.
I’ll cuddle you until you are ready to cuddle."

"I doubt that. I only cuddle my dog, myself, and my family."
'And not you.'

"You don’t want to cuddle me?"

"It’s not that, I’m just not cuddly."
'I don’t want to cuddle you.'

"That’s okay you don’t have to."

my silence
'Get away from me. You are hot, and I am now sweating.
I am uncomfortable.'

— The End —