Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Devon Clarke Jan 2014
Sunlight peeks In between silk curtains,
Sparking my whole being into motion.
Today starts.

  11:00am -
  I roll out of bed
  And wake up to a sweet goodmorning
  From you.
  I keep this huge smile
  While my morning shower washes away
  The sins of yesterday's memories.
  While I make bacon and eggs,
  You make your way to my door.
  Your knock is like the alarm clock
  For the butterflies in my stomach
  Scrambling all over.

    3:00pm -
    Our moans fade into a sweet ambience;
    Your bare skin on mine feels like
    I'm lounging in the clouds above our heads.
    We basque in the amazing energy
    Our seeds of love bloomed into.
    Please stay. Pretty please?

      7:00pm -
      Our nap comes to an end.
      We hope our goodbye kisses
      Are merely just holding us over til tomorrow.
      You might be going back to your house, but
      You and I both know
      Your home is where my heart is.

        1:00am -
        I've been in bed for three hours,
        Restlessly tumbling from side to side in bed
        Trying to get to sleep.
        With you in my life,
        No dream compares
        To another breath I share with you.
        **I love you. So much.
Devon Clarke Jan 2014
Sticks and stones break bones.
The whole world rushes over
To sign your cast - okay..

So if the mind cracks,
But no one cares to listen..
Does it make a sound?

If we go to war
With ourselves regularly,
Who's the terrorist?

I would say being
Mentally sick's more about
Being sane than calm.

Day One - It All Starts.
The sunshine dims, with daylight
Dwindling to dark.

Day Two - It sets in.
Scars and wounds are kept freshly
Scarlet red. It hurts.

Day Three - It Doesn't.
Sadly, it all becomes moot.
Now, it's your routine.

Day Four - Friends Notice.
That's why they stopped trying to
Convince you to live.

Day Five - Mom Worries.
She loses sleep, sort of like
How you have. Scary.

Day Six - You Give In.
Staring at the ceiling is
All you can manage.

Day Seven - You Choose.
You've had enough. **** it all.
You plan it all out.

Waking up at 4
In the morning, trying to
Drown in your own blood.

Taking the doctor's
Pills and shoving them all down
Your throat with no voice.

To secure things, you
Get your childhood blankie
And tighten a knot.

All your tears cascade
Upon the floor. you're thinking,
"What else do I have?"

You sum up your guts,
Step on the stool, and look out
The window. *Goodbye.

Just as you jump off,
You catch yourself. Still in bed.
Profusely sweating.

It was all a dream.
You cry until dry heaving
Saps your energy.

You last one more night;
Amen. Warriors like you
Deserve to fight on.

You are stronger than
Sticks, stones, words, pills, razors, life -
Keep going. **I beg.
"Life is a balancing act that has less to do with pain, and more to do with beauty."
Devon Clarke Jan 2014
Depression suffocates me
until I am begging
for just one more breath on the floor -
the aftermath of my overdose taking its toll.
Poetry is my oxygen tank.

It is a bit challenging to accept
that after feeling so low,
I felt that getting high was my only choice.
To wake up to hell for 16 hours a day,
only to have nightmares
I have never found myself able to outrun,
no matter how fast the alcohol seeps into my bloodstream -
it's almost scary to realize
that my life has fallen to this.
Long nights in basements
filled with scarlet red cups become synonymous
with dreadful episodes in the bathroom
staining the sink blood red -
We're merely trying to escape.
Depression, however, isn't just a phase -
It's a lifestyle.

Depression isn't feeling sad
when everything goes wrong -
it's not being able to accept
that everything is alright.
It isn't crying over spilled milk,
it's being the delicate glass
that was tipped just too hard,
rolled over and cracked
with a resounding smash
on the ground.
What people don't get
is that no matter how much tape or glue you use,
that glass will never be the same as its original self -
It isn't temporary - it's permanent.

It is hard to admit that I am sick.
The pills won't help,
the drugs won't help,
the people won't help -
the scariest part is that
I have to help myself.
When you've fallen into a hole this deep,
you don't simply climb out -
you claw and fight
until you can finally get a grip
on the beauty that life holds for us
and keep it to you tighter than ever.
Whenever I love something,
I hold onto it like the Earth
keeping the moon in perfect orbit
until the end of time,
in the hopes that it's not
just another wandering asteroid
that accidentally found its way into my atmosphere,
in which case the impact
leaves permanent craters on my psyche,
splashing the debris into the air,
covering up the sun
until I'm done tripping out and finally come to.

On one random Wednesday,
I blacked out.
Hours of my life in my memory
are simply gone.
Over the course of two hours,
I found my way
to the 5th floor of an unknown dorm,
face down and unresponsive in my own *****.
The next two hours consisted of EMTs
trying to force me to keep going;
all I uttered for those 7200 seconds:
**** me.

When they held my body,

Long detached from conscious thought,

I felt like I was being pressed into nothing.
As they held me down
with enough force to subdue my thrashing nervous system,
my world slipped away,
l i t t l e   b i t   b y   b i t .
I felt the dry heaves push out
any remnants of life I had remaining.
When they stuck me with the IVs,
needles pierced every inch of my body
for hours on end.
I saw hell for one night -
scary enough, in my period of unresponsiveness,
I crossed the threshold of life and death once.
I lost my heartbeat for three seconds.
Who knew that one **** hit
would almost give me one last night on Earth?

We all have our ways of coping.
Some cut.
Some rebel.
Some don't care.
I write. I speak. I live.
Poetry is my lifeline.
Somehow, words become much more
than just a collection of letters;
they become my heartbeats
translated into English.
It's almost scary that the only words
besides '**** me' that I remember from my trip are,
'you have to write about this. people have to know.'

Poetry is my oxygen tank.
*Take a deep breath with me.
Devon Clarke Jan 2014
I can't.
Bombs and missiles are flying everywhere;
Gunshots are whistling past my ears,
These nights are becoming the battleground of wars
Between my logic and my love;
Mind and heart fight back and forth
With neither daring to give up any ground.

Blood seeps into the soil,
Feeding this seed you planted inside of me,
And a flower grows amidst all chaos.
You kiss me to make it all feel better,
The tears you drop fall on the budding rose,
Its thorns scraping my feet while i try to run away from whatever hurts the most at the time -
I get tangled in its lengthening vines..

Until finally, your love has me constricted, gasping for air,
I need a fresh breath,
A momentary cease in fire,
A lapse in everything -
An *I love you.

But this time, a real one.
Devon Clarke Jan 2014

Ive been thinking about you a lot lately.
At this point in time, i should probably be studying *Mathematics

But instead, I'm looking to add us two together
Because it wouldn't be nearly as complicated as long division
To subtract all the zeroes in my life
Until its just you and I as a final product.
The only thing I really got out of calculus
Was that a great relationship could be our derivative.
I think the function for Y
This is happening is because
You have made
an X-ceptional difference
In my life;
Your beauty's limits are just imaginary numbers.

But -
I think I should review my English notes,
Because, I swear- We're just like Romeo and Juliet!
... minus the whole killing ourselves thing,
There aren't enough words in any dictionary
To completely envelop the feelings I have that make me so wary,
Now that you've torn down my walls, I hate being vulnerable,
You've gotten so close, so fast -
i can almost feel you hugging my soul.

Pero, uhh, donde esta mi libro de Espanol?
hay una mujer que domina mis sentidos con solo tocar mi piel,
y solo por un beso con ella soy feliz.

But in all seriousness.
The Chemistry we have is undeniable.
You take away all the oxygen in the room
When you get my blood boiling
And stomach toiling
when our eyes lock;
A limitless amount of reactions are unfolding
With you being my catalyst for my heart beating
Every time our hands are meeting.

Its now 5th period, Psychology,
When we kiss, its visualized neurology
Because my lips still tingle when you allow me
To go clinically crazy,
I'm only left to plead insanity
After our physiological fallacy.

Or maybe i should crack open my History textbook,
Because all I ever hear about
Is how Benjamin Franklin was a ****,
And that crazy chick from 300 stabbed her love affair,
Or, quite simply,
How nothing good ever lasts.
Well, I don't know why I'm even in school anymore,
Because I feel like you and I reversed millenniums
Of misguided relationships,
Because with finger locked,
We ran through Berlin Walls that said
High school romance was stupid,
And practically caused World War 3
When so many jealous lovers realized
That the only weapon of mass destruction
Is the undeniable army of two that we have become.
I'd say
We're a bit closer
To that old couple from The Notebook!
they die too.

So the last bell has rung,
You made me late to every class,
But if my homework was just to love you,
**There'd be no doubt that I'd pass.
Devon Clarke Jan 2014
When I saw you, I knew already
That you were the kind of girl
boys like me write poems about.

We first met on our way to the beach
But I figured
You'd be giving me the tan
Because your smile
Was at least 10 times as bright
As the sun;
I didn't dare call you beautiful
Because I felt like it'd be an insult
To not fully encompass
How fast my jaw dropped
When we made eye contact.

You probably haven't given me
Much of a second thought,
But to be honest, I haven't either -
My mind is still stuck on the first time
You pierced my conscious
And staked claim on my attention
As if it was just another sandcastle
You wanted to name after yourself.

You crashed into me
Like waves of saltwater
And knocked me down
With the surprise
That God decided he'd rather watch one of his angels
Play tag with my senses while i try to pinpoint
Exactly what it is about you
That's has left me mesmerized.

You're the cool breeze.
You give me goosebumps when you come my way,
Pacifying the billions of beads of sand
To make way for a queen entering her throne.

You are the setting sun,
Making everything you touch
Just a bit more breathtaking by association,
making me wish i could freeze time
Just so i could completely absorb
All that you have to offer.
Your laugh reminds me
Of the gentle ebb and flow of the tide,
A serenade reminding you that,
For the time being,
Everything will be alright.

The next time I go to the beach,
I do not want the saltwater kissing my skin,
I want to walk on water
From your lips kissing mine.

I really wish this day
Would never end.
Devon Clarke Jan 2014
When I felt you tremble,
I felt the earth quake beneath me
Like I stood on high grounds;
You pounded emotion into me
With playful punches
And hard stares;

But I'm not supposed to like you like this.

The way your hair falls
And the way my finger feels curling in it;
The freckles on your face
And the heart I formed connecting them,
Your voice that is a song playing on repeat, repeat, repeat
Release me from your spell -

Because I am not supposed to like you like this.

Tension builds like the walls I put up
To protect myself from a girl like you,
A girl that will come marching through
With the audacity
To make me break rules set in stone,
Because I don't care that

I'm not supposed to like you like this.

Your teeth align in your smile
Like the planets during a solar eclipse -
Girls like you come along once every other millennium,
You are the reason I pray to God
For every good thing that has happened to me
On days when nothing goes right
You are the hammer that shattered any standards I had.

You are the reason I am walking like a KING.
You are my QUEEN.

You look so beautiful right underneath me;
This isn't just another hook up
Why are my lips tingling
and my mind mingling
Somewhere between us and the heavens?
When will I remember to start breathing again?

You are not just a friend -
you are the girl
That I am not supposed to meet.
Why am I connecting to you
like steel chains that cannot break?

Emotions became synonymous with skyscrapers -
We're touching the clouds,
We're getting higher and higher
My lips
fall lower and lower;
Get closer and closer,
I am being pushed
Further further,
Im not supposed

To be writing a poem like this.

Your moans should not be in perfect harmony
With my panting,
You should not have a necklace of hickies and bite marks,
Your pants should not be on the floor,
I'm not supposed

*To be feeling good about this.
Next page