Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Devon Litster May 2018
It has been too long since my lips have been touched with love
I feel the press of lust when I am kissed
Always from the head and not the heart
They feel barren
Devon Litster Jan 2018
A few months ago I was walking along a path,
I had a compass, a map, a companion
The stars above me aligned like the aspects of my life
Finally, I thought, to be comfortable as I walk
I have all that I need with me
I am safe, I am content
To spend my life on that path would be bliss

The day my partner left, I fell off the side of the road
It stopped in a dead end that I had never anticipated
I lay in the dust with my heart on the ground next to me
I had lost my anchor for every storm that shook my mind and soul

My compass: I destroyed like something toxic when it poisoned my body
It lead me to this place
Somewhere I never wanted to be, something I never wanted to experience
My compass leads me in my life’s decisions
Not reliable but overwhelmingly persuasive
It was broken
I ached in places I didn’t know I had
I cried oceans until my eyes were full of sand
My stomach turned down food as if it were the thing that had poisoned me
So I let my compass break and ruin me, before leaving it in the dirt

I continued down the path, trying to navigate
The map was optimistic, strong, organized
It was bright and full of ideas
But what I hadn’t realized is that I had never read this map on my own,
It was with his help that I found the strength,
In my solitude, I felt the map darken
The writing on the parchment turned brown and black
Like tendrils the ink reaches to every corner and infects it
I can’t read it – depression fills the page with black and makes it impossible to see anything of value
Its not as easy as looking on the bright side when there’s nothing but darkness left

So I’m here now
My chest is empty with no compass
My mind is full of ink
I have no idea where I am and I don’t know how I got here
It’s not his fault that he wasn’t ready to walk with me
But I wish I had some warning before the road ended under my feet
Devon Litster Jan 2018
I’m tired of being absent,
I feel when you left you took my soul with you.
I know it isn’t fair to blame you
But who else can I say broke me?
Devon Litster May 2016
I sleep diagonal.
In my full size bed I am only a half size person,
I stretch out into the corners of my mattress at night to cover the spaces and spread myself...
Wide and lounging to my heart's content.

That is to say I slept diagonal
I've become one in a pair who has one bed between them.
I do not stretch myself out into the corners of the mattress, nor into the corners of him.
My heart is not so content anymore.

In sharing my bed I should be sharing myself but despite all that is said and done I am still to afraid to curl myself into him at night.
I don't stretch myself into comfortable shapes around his body,
I don't let our bodies intertwine into warm and safe knots.
This shouldn't speak volumes but the sound is deafening,
The fear of being alone is the cause of my diagonal slumber.
If I cover the mattress in limbs and extremities then perhaps it won't feel so empty.
If I take up every inch of bed then perhaps there wasn't room for him to begin with.
With him laying next to me,
It is a cold reminder that there is room
There always was room.

And perhaps he is a placeholder, but until the day that I have found a man to comfortably stretch myself into, I will learn to sleep straight
Because I just can't sleep diagonal anymore.
Devon Litster Dec 2015
You know that smoking kills you
and still you let it.
When I kiss you I can taste the smoke
and it sinks into my skin.
I know that I'll regret it when you kiss me
and still I let you.
You're trying to quit because you've become addicted.
I know the feeling because I'm trying to quit too.
Devon Litster Jul 2014
My throat feels like it's closing off
and maybe it's because when you're not breathing air into my mouth,
i don't feel that oxygen is all that important.
Not unless it comes from you
  Jul 2014 Devon Litster
Madisen Kuhn
it’s difficult
to romanticize the past
or even
remember it as
genuine
when i keep discovering
more and more each day
that everything
you said,
and everything you
promised,
and everything
i thought was true,
was not.
from drafts
Next page