Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
authentic Jun 2014
I try to write about you all of the time
I try my best to decipher each feeling
to recover the memories and reignite dead flames
I try to make it all better again my spilling
the colors of my mind on paper
but each time I try
my hand cramps
my mind hits a wall
I am blocked
and to this day I am not sure what stops me
but I promise myself and you
that I will write about you one day
and every locked up emotion
will explode
I will use 26 letters
to express millions of memories
and thousands of thoughts
I promise I will write about you
and I hope you'll read it
authentic Jan 2015
I wrote a poem once
My Honestly Poem (Revised)
It had a line in it that said
"I am still mixing colors, trying to find one that best fits me when I am around you
When I make this discovery
You will be the first person I call"
I ended it with two words
"I promise"
So, I intend to tell you what those colors are
They start with white
As every new canvas does
White like the color of your truck
White like sugar I put in my coffee on our first date
Downtown, PJ's coffee, you were just as sweet as that spelda, sweeter even
White like the frozen yogurt we got when we first really hung out
White like the white out I am using to cover all of the mistakes we made
Then a pinch of orange
Like the flower we stole off of a table sitting outside of Subway downtown
Like the sunset we watched on the Levi
Like the start of our pumpkin cake that I almost royally destroyed
Or like my Christmas gift, my bear who's name is Barry if you ever did wonder, like The Country Bears
Then dipped in dark red
Like the jacket I wore on our first date
Or the pants I wore on our second
Or like the plastered walls in BJ's
Or the color of your tie and my corsage at Homecoming
Then sweet, dark blue
Like the backdrop for stars that sat in the sky,
the sky we gazed at countless times
Like my blue jeans that you helped me buy
Like the color on your watch
Next, black of course
Like most of the clothes I wore
Like the majority of our attire at homecoming
Like the center of your eyes surrounded by pools of
Green
Greek like the grass we walked over
Green like the grass on the other side
I am still deciding which is greener
Green like your eyes
I know I've said it already
but I cannot seem to remove your eyes from my memory
Even after the green Starbucks where we ended it
Green was always there
Then the slightest pinch of purple
Like the color of my curtains
Like the color of my bed
The one we would lay in together and even though it was tormentingly hot we couldn't help but be close to each other
Then I realized, after all of this painting
I don't have a color after all
Mixed together
In technical terms some would say it was black
Those who have achromatopsia
Would say it was more like black and white or grey
But I wouldn't
Our love was as colorful as ever
It was gaudy and vibrant
It was brilliant, just as we were brilliant
So in conclusion, I call it opalescent
It reflects different colors in different light
We reflect different colors in different light
But in every light, we are beautiful
I'm sorry that hardly any light shines on us anymore
I hope one day it will
I hope it will shine as bright as ever
And maybe we can start back at white
As every new canvas does
authentic Jun 2015
He sits in the driver's seat, hands tearing apart his steering wheel cover at a red light near her house. He is on the way to meet with a friend who swears he can help get his mind off of her. He arrives at an old dock where they used to go fishing every Saturday morning. It was bliss and peaceful, it was so much easier. They stopped when he fell in love, he was so enveloped in her presence and everything that she was. He couldn’t stay away. He puts his truck in park and takes a deep breath.
"Hey buddy, long time -- no see, huh?"
"I know, I know," he says forcing a smile.
"Come on in, it's cold out."
The two go inside, drink a few beers and talk about old times. It was assumed that this was all it would be and it was all it needed to be. It was brothers by bond, friends who were there for each other, they taught them how to forget for a while, for the most part.
"How have you been holding up? I hate to ask but man, you've been gone. You're not yourself."
He sits looking down and after it all he knows there is no use in lying.
"There is one voice that keeps echoing in my ears ... there is one face that keeps coming in front of me every time ... she was the peace in my heart, she was the joy, the laughter, she was everything."
He smiles as he is reminded of her dancing in the kitchen. His fist tightens at the thought of her hands running up and down his back.
"I really loved her man. I loved her more than anything."
A rock sits in his throat and he is choking back tears he swore he would never let loose. He swore he was stronger than that, but love, it does things to you. It makes you do things you swore you would never do.

He looks up and his friend of years is waving his hand in front of his face.
"Hello," he laughs, " I asked how have you been holding up."
"Oh," he clears his throat, "I'm doing fine, I bounced back pretty quickly. I hardly think if it anymore. The past is the past right, cheers to us man. I got everything I need without her."
They clank beers and he swallows back every truth he was too afraid to say. Sometimes weakness is hiding. Sometimes strength is admitting you've hit your knees.
393 · Jun 2015
You are only this
authentic Jun 2015
You are a bittersweet memory at best
A face in a photograph, a stranger with a story
Your ghost does not follow me around anymore
And speaking your name outloud is similar to saying a name of someone whom I've never met
It is foreign and forgotten, it's empty now
And of course I will remember the things we did
I will probably remember them forever but they will always be far away in my mind
You are not something I will lose myself over, talking about the things we did will not effect me
It may cause a slight smile and sigh, reminiscing on things that just aren't so spectacular as they used to be
You are a bittersweet memory at best
Which is the best thing you could be
Dear Landon
392 · Mar 2016
How Dare I
authentic Mar 2016
I find myself being hesitant to writing poetry about you
I'm scared, you see, only a writer knows what it does to them
When you write something down it makes it more real
So me, writing a poem about you would ultimately give you the power to hurt me
I could never write about how I daydream of your fingers running their way through my hair
And precisely what it would feel like to kiss you good morning
I could never write about the storm in your eyes that makes me want to dance in the rain
Never about pressing my palms to the walls of your chest like you are answering all my prayers
Or about how you are the kind of boy that girls want to dance around kitchen's with
The one they want their mother's to meet, come to Christmas, birthday parties
How my heart beats so loudly when you are near it is hardly a miracle that it has not broken through the ribs which enclose it quite yet
No, not about your smile or how it could give sight to a blind man and especially not about how each time you enter the room ice races up my spine and suddenly I can hear myself breathing very distinctly, trying to match the rising and falling of your chest to mine
You know, it's lonely being me and I must think it is just as lonely being you
So kiss me like it's going out of style and let your hands dance on this canvas of a body
And I promise to never write a poem about you
Though you may explore the hills and valleys of my outside I will not give you the key to the inner workings of my mind and all that would take is one poem
One which I shall never write, how dare I fall in love
How dare I
392 · Apr 2014
Answers For The Addiction
authentic Apr 2014
"Why do you like him so much?" they all ask
"What's so great about him?"
Well let me put this into perspective
What’s so great about cigarettes?
The exhausting vapor oxidizing your lungs
Painting rough shades of grey filling all of the empty voids
What's so great about alcohol?
The acerbic liquid that turns one night into a celebration
But the next morning into a distressing *****
Leaving you sick to your stomach, feeling vacant
So what's so great about him?
He is the IV in my veins
His eyes possess a power that draw me to him
An addicting extenuation of unrequited love
He makes me feel like candlelight
A lighter without gas
A bottle with nothing in it
Astounding disappointments falling on top of each other
Constant agony but this love is too strong to feel anything less
**I couldn't imagine feeling anything less
392 · Mar 2014
Slow Suicide
authentic Mar 2014
Suicide seems so bitter-sweet
Bitter: You are dead
Sweet: You get to choose when
Although I have craved
That simple taste of death
I was never brave enough
To end it all at once
So I have substituted that bitter-sweet death
With the bitter-sweet taste
Of a lit cigarette
Killing myself slowly
One inhale at a time
391 · Mar 2015
Achilles Heel
authentic Mar 2015
I found him, waiting on a girl who loved someone else
He was fighting desolation in total isolation
He was broken
I found him following behind her
Memorizing the way she walks, each step imprinted onto his brain
Like tattooing her body language up and down his arms, running his hands across them because it reminded him of touching her
He said she was his Achilles heel
I found him in the soft dusk light
Telling me that he loved me but that he loved her more
Declaring that there was something there, he just knew it
but that it was not enough to stand on
This was never a story about rescue, this is the story of the fall
I know that you cannot help the way you feel but neither can I
That is what makes this all the more difficult for the both of us

I found you and I tried to help you up
But you insisted that staying down there with her in torture
Was much easier than walking away with a limp
389 · Jun 2015
She
authentic Jun 2015
She
And I bet she doesn't write poetry
I bet her mind is shallow, floating above water in places where I am drowning
She does not trace homes in your chest
She does not wait for it to be perfect
She does not wait for it to be love
Our eyes spoke more than our mouths ever did and I figured that was okay
We were butterflies in tummies and fluttering heartstrings of laughter that lasted a little too long
I am now spending my time trying to figure out if I have gotten stronger or weaker and which of those is worse
Even fragile hearts are strong enough to hold on to something as big as love
No matter these callused palms that you may find no reassurance in, your act of running away does not mean I won't stop reaching out
I know that I have gotten better
But I will forever be tempted to drive by your house just to remember what it looked like and I am never sure if I want you to be outside to see me or completely oblivious to the fact that I still love you
I do not want to seem weak, and I know that I am a new person because of you
I just wish you could meet her
She still writes poetry
She always will
389 · Mar 2015
Resisting The Front Line
authentic Mar 2015
I cannot hear someone talk about love without thinking of a plane crash
The sudden moments of ecstasy and then the drawn out turbulence
In trying to decide which loved one is the one worth calling
Which memory will lace itself through your mind like a drug
Love does not care about your disposition, it does not care about the timing
Love comes when love feels it should, even when it is wrong
I have noticed that I love far too fast
Stare the beast in the face and
I break like a fever, like a bad habit, like a windshield
Under the sound of his roar
He does not care how loud I scream, it only screams back louder
Love does not care about my disinclined heart beat that races too fast for too many people
So when your friend introduces you to a boy, resist making a memory of his cologne
You do not need another memento of a love that may never be
Do not fool yourself into thinking that this is okay
You are not supposed to be at war
So why do you insist on putting yourself on the front line?
389 · Jan 2014
Drowning
authentic Jan 2014
I never imagined that I would still be in so deep
That the sound of your voice would still be playing in my head at night like a record
That I would still drown in your eyes every time I looked into them
That your smile would melt my insides
Talking to you was like walking on tight rope
One wrong move and I'd fall
Maybe even further than I'd ever fallen before
Praying that hitting bottom would hurt a little less than the last time
I will never forget each of our memories
The way you were so desperate to know what was going on inside of my head
The way I was so desperate for you to stop asking
How I wanted to kiss you but on the other hand I wanted you to kiss me
I still dream about the taste of your lips
And the silk on your hands
How each breath you breathed out was the same one I breathed in
I still have not forgotten your scars
The way you tried and I pushed you away
I pushed you away like a glass door that had the PULL sticker on it
I didn't know what I was doing
I forgot to read the message that was sitting in my phone that I had forgotten was there
But now the tables have turned
And I am the one that is waiting for you to answer my call
For you to take my hand and save me from this saltwater
Please don't let me drown
**Please don't let me drown
386 · Feb 2015
Be Happy
authentic Feb 2015
More and more people each day give up on trying to be happy
It has become a tedious chore that many no longer want to do
It was something you would add to your to-do list for the day
"Be happy," it reads
And each morning you wake with coffee too hot to drink
And a vague memory of last night's lust toward sadness
It will baffle you how morning is not that much different
The sun is out, it is a brighter landscape but your body is still in the closet darkness
Eyes that narrow at any source of light
It was never like this before
And, as every morning, you think back to that feeling
Where happiness would sweep over you and you did not have to look for it
Before "Be happy," was written
On a list
386 · Jun 2014
You
authentic Jun 2014
You
You are a forward notion of competition and utter desire of love
You have a smile that could stop a truck, eyes that out-blue the ocean
You are eager and dedicated to all that you do
You are kind, understanding, hopeful
You make me believe in myself
and give me the confidence I always hoped to someday acquire
You are an undermined base of love that is slowly being restored
You are the abandoned house in the lost most beautiful area
You did not even notice the vacancy
You are the match that lights my fire
You are a garden filled with venomous flowers
So beautiful and so dangerous
But I have always liked a little risk
and maybe that's why I will never give you up
386 · May 2015
Death Sentence Melody
authentic May 2015
Sitting in a crowded restaurant with a table too far to put your elbows on and you wonder if this is how it feels to be well mannered
He smiles, innocent and pure, deceiving your naïve mind
"We've grown apart, it's been months and I still can't sleep, how did you do it so fast?"
He parts his lips like he is going to say something but pauses almost as if it is a death sentence he does not want to give. A pounding on a gavel, a mother gasps in a courtroom, handcuffs fitting too tight.
He says, "Part of growing up is picking and choosing your battles and you just aren't one I want to fight anymore."
386 · May 2015
Vs. Reality
authentic May 2015
It's like we're a world full of love stories
Spinning slowly on its axis, in this magnificent Milky Way, as if we are slow-dancing around the sun
And maybe we have already crossed paths, caught a glance and kept walking
It's funny how out of the 7 billion people on this earth you will come back and find me and we will fall in love like people do all of the time in this passion-driven world
I cannot help but wonder where we will meet, I cannot help but think of the movies
You will stumble into a coffee shop in grey sweatpants and a t-shirt
First, your eye catches the menu, then you glance left and see a girl reading
Puzzled, curious, and awestruck, you will walk over and ask what she is reading
Or maybe it will be raining in the middle of spring
She will be standing at a cross walk with a magazine over her head
You do your best to avoid traffic in endeavor to reach her
You share an umbrella and love will bloom like the flowers of May
Or maybe we have already met
Know each other's names and secrets
Maybe we have already loved and it failed
But maybe we could do it again
Just maybe, we could do it right this time
385 · Apr 2015
Intruder
authentic Apr 2015
I am in this world as a stranger
I do not speak it's language
It is all gibberish to my ears and this world simply does not understand my look of curiosity, it does not understand my silence
I have been trying to learn how to speak with its tongue
However I find myself only tying knots inside of my mouth
I want to be a part of this soil
Want to dig my roots into it, I want to taste rain
I feel as if I am a seed that no one wants to put in the ground
For fear of bitter fruit sprouting from it
They say, that when you get hit, to turn the other cheek
The people who tell you this are not implying that they were hit again, nowadays people only turn their cheeks to look the other way
My mother told me, "you must never begin your story with the weather"
I never imagined this would be hard to do until I found myself sleeping outside
My life is only a story of bad timing
Coincidence that I was here or there
Bad luck they say, that's all it is
I am trying to believe this but how can I trust something that I have never touched, never held, never experienced
They will tell you their story of how it was all turned around
And still I sit there, trying to decipher these words
I simply cannot speak this language
This language of joy and peace
It seems that it is a sunny day in everyone's garden except for mine
Sometimes, I think of destroying my greenhouse
This body I once saw as a temple now only a cult gathering place, they mock the every thing I was built for
The irony of it is more enticing than the end of the story
No one is going to miss these battle grounds
They have moved on from what was there before
It seems as if they are already making new blue prints for a new building where I once stood
I do not even deserve a memorial
I have been trying to learn this language
But each word gets stuck in my throat
I have forgotten how to articulate correctly
I swear that I'm trying
I just cannot manage to abandon my own skin
I promise that one day I might look like you
I will paint over every curve and edge of my body
Re-floor, re-decorate, I will change
If only that means you won’t look at me
Like I am an intruder
probably my favorite poem I've written because it is not about love
383 · Jan 2015
Spilled Ink On Affection
authentic Jan 2015
There are advantages
To isolation of romance
And anything regarding emotion
But at the end of the day
Despite the thought of freedom
And repetitive reflections of past discomfort
It is challenging to lay alone
Slowly becoming accustomed to a bed to yourself
Realizing the new space and profound independence
But I will always miss the warmth of a body
There is something captivating about flesh on flesh
Body on body, enveloping each other in balmy breaths
Tangling legs like tired shoe laces
Wrapping tightly, pushing away the thought of anything else
There is something peaceful about that
Though cold sheets are refreshing
Warm bodies are reassuring
There is something about the way it feels
The way their chest rises when they breathe
Not even realizing how you have memorized how it elevates
There is nothing more tranquil
I know that living it up and being free is wonderful
Never taking the risk of heartbreak is solacing
Doing what you please, when you please is disentangling
Absence of amour is sometimes divine
But every craves affection intermittently
Even if they do not admit to it
381 · May 2015
Leave The Radio On
authentic May 2015
You told me that you still think about us but that it does not mean you do not want to be with someone else
And in a strange way it gives me comfort to know that you could see a girl with long black hair walking down the street or hear my favorite song on the radio or even catch the smallest trace of my scent on that old T-shirt and if it just for a fleeting moment you feel a pang longing for me somewhere in your heart
Even if it is small like a cancer cell
I wonder if it will grow
Extend this body of harm,
Poison your emotions with the stains of our love
Or if maybe her love will attack this parasite
And leave me unidentified as if I were never there in the first place
Towering over me like a building with a plane about to crash into it
The audience wonders if the pilot will turn in time
I hope she falls in love with you
And I hope she feels the silence in her bones when you kiss her
I wonder if you will think of me
Let the world whisper love letters I never sent to you in your ears
Let each letter be carved into your lips, hoping it does not stain hers enough for her to notice when she is getting ready for dinner
And I only just hope you will leave the radio on
379 · Mar 2014
Drunk
authentic Mar 2014
Friday night
Window open
Cigarette lit
Praying that the house is still asleep
Hoping to maintain the good girl reputation
Maybe they wont find out
But then again too drunk to even care
My mind is unconsciously running out of reasons why I should stop
The addiction is too strong
The persuasiveness is at its all time high
And the regret remains at the bottom of an empty bottle
I hide myself behind drunken nights that are as never as fun as they sound
I want to forget it all
So I cross the lines that I drew to keep myself away
Not even thinking of going back
Not even wasting my time on the fact that the more I do it
The more permanent the thoughts become
You are engraved into the concrete of my mind
And I still
Constantly
Tell myself that if I just keep going
If I just keep pushing myself
It'll all go away
But it doesn't
Every time
It comes back
377 · Sep 2015
Sunday Morning
authentic Sep 2015
It is Sunday morning and I want to be waking up with you
Sunrise reaching through a crack in my curtains, staining the far wall with an angel's grace
I search the room for fragrance of romance and realize I am here alone
I think of you, sitting in the passenger seat, you driving
I wonder how focused you are on the road
I watched the sparkle dance across your eyes like fireflies at dusk
I imagine laying my head on your chest
Listening to your heartbeat and the blood pulsing through you veins like waves running from sea predators
I dream of kissing your velvet lips, taste the whisper wasted secrets of the world going into my mouth
Remind me of what you're running away from when we are laying still
I crave you when I'm near drifting off to sleep, or when I fix a cup of coffee, or when sitting at a red light
Nail my hands to this steering wheel, open my bones and look for your fingerprints
I swear I've seen you in another life, distant daylight drumming dancers, bend over backwards to reach your hands
I knew your name before I met you, my mother would tell me of a boy, one that I will meet one day, I think it must be you
Carry me up the stairs when I'm too tired to walk, undress me like a fragile glass doll, kiss my bare shoulders
Open up my mind and read my rough drafts and smile at how far I have come
Spin me in circles in the kitchen in place of doing the dishes
Trace the curves of my body, outline this artwork with your paintbrush fingertips
She used to tell me stories, make believe, play pretend with the faceless man whom I will be in love with and will be in love with me
Because the best feeling is to love and be loved in return
And I remember my father smiling at my mother as if she was the miracle he had searched his whole life for
Nothing less than spectacular, a supernatural occurrence where the odds happened to be in his favor
I remember Sunday mornings, sleep late, sit outside and listen to their favorite songs
Drink coffee all day in PJs and actually make breakfast
I look forwards to Sunday mornings where I hope you will wake next to me
authentic Aug 2015
Why do we do the things we do?
When we go for a walk or sleep with the lights off or drive around at 2 am
Stumbling over our own feet so hopelessly human out on a quest trying to find something to relate to
We're just brave souls throwing ourselves into a future we've convinced ourselves we deserve to stand in
As if we knew tomorrow were promised to be happier
Perhaps we are just waiting too much
Waiting to adventure, waiting till we're older and less scared but maybe less spontaneous
Because people change and we can't stop that because we can’t stop anything but ourselves
Hold back feelings, opinions, gestures, words do not mean much after you have waited too long to say them
It's funny how we have to experience things ourselves to learn the lesson and even then we have a hard time making the appropriate adjustments
I know the devil enters our mouths when we're angry
And I think we all just want someone to be vulnerable around and not be judged by them
We lie to make other people feel better
We lie to make ourselves feel better
We lie just to do it
Looking out the window imagining where we want to be but instead of being honest we will only say we like the view
We would always be hungrier than our rations would allow because are too scared to ask for more
We would rather starve then cause trouble for those in the kitchen
But I've learned that there are times when you need to throw dirt to keep your face from becoming dust
Honey dripping heartbeat doubt
Questioning motives of those we ae sure we have figured out but just when we think we know it all
Thriller taps your shoulder and reveals the rest of the puzzle we swore we'd finished long ago
I think it’s important to sit down in your own company to register the concerns you were not familiar with but were always there
Everything humming with the arrival of traffic over the horizon you release the tension over a cup of coffee
Life is all about choices
It's the choices we make that connect our constellations, every second of every moment hinging on a point so relevant but so arbitrary, like handfuls of stardust being thrown onto an empty canvas
Why do we do the things that we do?
Sometimes we don’t know, but there's always a reason for it
376 · Dec 2014
There are days...
authentic Dec 2014
There are days when I love you
Days where all I want is to be next to you
To talk to you about the weather
And argue about where we want to eat
Days where I want you to choose
There are days when I love you
And I want you to know that
So in every way that I can, I will endeavor show it
I will paint a picture of your smile
I will carry you over puddles
I will be the princess in your castle
There are days when the hellos are endless
Days when music is so sweet
And the sunshine beaming through your truck windshield is the only light I will ever need
But, as there always are, they are inevitable
There are days when I hate you
Days where all I want is for you to leave
I want to scream at you for making me second guess all of my feelings for you and ask if you are doing the same for me
There are days when I wonder why I am with you
Days where I think I could do better than you
Days when your sharp tone and loud clamor of vocals in my head cut so deep I swear that all the blood will drain from my body in a matter of minutes
There are days when you make the world seem so sweet, like cherry trees and honey
The sweetest things of all are flowing within you
But there are also days when the fire that once kept us warm is burning us
Days when the sun is just another reminder that you do not shine as bright as it does
There are so many days that have already passed
They are a variety of emotions
But know that on the days where I hate you
I still love you, I just cannot not show it in that moment
Secretly I want you to stay
I promise I do
375 · Apr 2015
Envision This
authentic Apr 2015
Envision this. You are older now, face wilted but still beautiful as it was fifty years ago. Your walking stick has become your lifetime apprentice and recollections flutter around in your head like the butterflies that once resided in your stomach. Most days you cannot remember what you like in your coffee or what you'll have for dinner. Some day's it is harder to breathe than most and on occasion you have to sit because standing becomes too much of a chore. You realize how true it is that you never do forget the people you loved when you were younger. You may not remember breakfast or yesterday's weather but you remember the fifty year old summer breeze and complaining about her hair in your face. "I wonder if she's happy," you say, and people mistake it for mindless rambling. "I hope she found what she was looking for."
372 · Oct 2015
On The Topic Of Love
authentic Oct 2015
I sometimes pull heartbeats out of my chest and turn them into poems
Because I get sick of listening to this ***** inside of me like a drum, reminding me that I am still alive  because frankly I don’t care
It seemed to make no difference if my lungs suddenly forgot how to fill themselves with air
Suffocated shrunken up cavity, vacant of natural skills we develop from the womb
It wouldn't matter if I drowned in this void
I could manage anything after losing you
You see, in life we will experience droughts
Times where emotion runs dry, the sky cracks with a sunset and all you can see is orange
Your disposition is confusing, you are distant from friends, humble in insults, you have accepted your fate
You are going to smother eventually so be patient in this dismay
You have accustomed yourself to the spell of darkness and wonder all magic is black magic
You see I am sinking in this concrete, mental blankness, unfolding remolding
I do not want to love again, I want to but I know I won't be able to do it right so I do not want to love again
My body does not take well to being held, my heart racing does not comfort me
Butterflies are just insects that look pretty
I do not want to taste another's lips, I do not want you to tell me I am beautiful
There is no cure to this disease, it is malignant and vicious, it is determined to see me to my grave
Hardly anything comforts me anymore because there is only so much you can do with something that is broken
My skies are painted grey and my walls are painted white
Everything is ordinary, plain, mediocre, nothing excites me quite like you used to
So I sit patiently in this room where the floor is slowly rising up and he ceiling will soon make friends with my brain
I do not worry, the sky is the limit and I am almost there
I hope to greet the stars with a faint smile, weary and worn but authentic enough to join them
Look down upon you and assure that you are alright and then I fall
And maybe you can make a wish on me in her name
369 · Dec 2014
I love (10w)
authentic Dec 2014
I love everything that you do not love about yourself
369 · Nov 2014
10 Ways To Describe You
authentic Nov 2014
One.
If I could
I would wash my skin in the endless sunrays
that your hellos bring
I would open the window to this cold bedroom
And let in the November wind to blow out all of the candles keeping us in dim light
So that you couldn't find your way out to leave
Two.
Lay me down
Tuck yourself in next to me
So that not even cold weather
Could take away from the warmth
That you bring
No heater or blanket could ever
Keep me like you can
Three.
I have found myself missing you
But being too afraid to say so
Four.
I am so scared to lose you
So scared to be another hit and run
Do not leave in the wreckage
My insurance does not provide for this
Destruction any more
I have grown tired of this too
Five.
You see, once enough pain happens
You tend to try and be careful
To have the eye of the tiger
And avoid future wounds
But you came in like my best friend
Do not leave as an enemy
Six.
I am sorry that I cannot help but smile
Whenever I look at you
But you are so beautiful
And I am so lucky
And when such a treasure is in my line of sight
I cannot help but marvel at it
Seven.
I am also sorry that I am so fragile
You call me beautiful
And all I see is a glass vase with seemingly
Beautiful flowers in it
But everyone else is unaware
Of what is holding them
We look only at the beauty of the color
And not the clear fragility that keeps them alive
Eight.
I will cross my fingers
Until the bones splinter at the bases of my wrist
And hope that as my heart runs away with me
That you are willing to come along
Nine.
I am learning to take risks
And not look down
Only at you
Ten.**
I falling for you hard
Hoping that your hands will be my safety net
Loving you takes a little more work than you planned
But I have learned that things that take work
Are the only things that are really worth something
369 · May 2015
On Finding Love
authentic May 2015
Curl his palms around the lower ends of my back
As an acoustic melody fractures these walls while he is sipping lust from my collarbones
Kissing my body like it is the only thing he knows how to do
Running his hands up like he is reaching for sunlight
The resonance of heavy breathing will cause monsoons in Thailand
And maybe it isn't love
But maybe that's okay
And I do still miss you all the time
And I'm trying to find a way out of this
But what if I'm trying to do the right thing but I am perpetually reading the signals wrong?
What about the grey areas?
I am trying to love myself again
But that is hard to do with hands that are not yours
Carving their names into my body
I want to love you but you just won't let me
And this is where I find my escape
This is where I have been finding my love lately
if you ever read this, know that this is one of the few i have told you about
authentic Sep 2014
You meant so much to me
I carried your spirit in my smile
I wanted to talk to you at all hours of the day
I looked at you like a flower in a vase
So carefully placed but I somehow misinterpreted
that you were put in a vase
because you had thorns behind that beautifully carved glass
You are unappreciative
You are selfish
I am only a mere grain of sand in your hour glass
This kind of love takes a lot more work than I had planned
I did everything to surprise you,
to make you happy when you were sad,
to calm you down when you were stressed out
I gave you pieces of me that I now realized I needed
I want those hours back
I feel like I wasted so much time
trying to be the one you wanted
But you are as hollow as the empty beer
bottles that litter the side of the highway
You care so little about being next to me
that even when you are
the wind resistance alone would rip you out of my arms
And now as I sit here
pondering every thought I've ever kept about you
and simply wondering if I ever really had a place
if I ever really matter to someone as egotistical as you
authentic Apr 2015
Every day, it never fails
I get a twisting feeling in my stomach
Like dropping a boulder from my chest
Onto my kidneys
A stirring feeling churning my organs
I feel as if I cannot breath due to dramatic change of weather
This always happens when I think of you
Think back on the feeling of the dragging of your palms, tickling my skin
Remember what it felt like to never wear a seatbelt
Because I would rather have been closer to you than safe from calamity
Sort through the recollections locked away in my mind
I have never wanted to set free a criminal so badly
I know they will only do harm but I just have to see them one more time
These memories are a distant relative now
One I was once so close to that moved away
It is a waste of money to come back here but I am willing to pay the expenses if it means another chance to convince them to stay
This feeling in my stomach is like a tornado in an ocean
I cannot shield myself from it because everything looks the same way
Every thought of you is the same
They are all simply reminders that you are gone
How do you tell someone that they taught how to look as a seed and see a flower
Now they are blooming in someone else's garden
And this feeling is my stomach
Just might be the feeling of plants being pulled
From their roots
368 · May 2014
The Idea Of You
authentic May 2014
I am in love with the idea of you
I could listen to your voice forever
put you on a record and play you for hours
I want to pour all of your thoughts into a wine glass
and sip it slowly, taking in each one, swallowing smooth dreams
I want to look into your eyes
just long enough to decipher each color
to count each eyelash
I want to hold your hand in mine
and feel each crescent in your palm
I could go on about the idea of you for ages
I could talk about you like a novel I was planning to write
Draw out each word with extravagant detail
I could do it all
I am in love with the idea of you
Yet after the record finishes, each time
It is always harder to play it again
Because each word that slips off of your lips
are the lips that have kissed a girl who is not me
367 · Feb 2015
Bound
authentic Feb 2015
This is an indispensable love that has tied itself to me
Handcuffed my tired wrists to its strong pull
It is luring me in and I am trying to convince myself
Maybe I can walk away from this before it is too late
Before I am completely bound
Before this small cuff turns into chains
Love does not let you see it adding more custody
You will not realize the urgency until you cannot move
And I feel as though, maybe looking at you too long
Can cause a ******* that I will never escape from
And I am not sure if I am ready to be bound to you
While you are still bound to her
367 · Sep 2015
Michael
authentic Sep 2015
He was a summer rain
Heavy falling, warm
Whispers me to sleep and wakes me up again
He was the kind of beautiful that only wandered in once in a lifetime
You had to know exactly what you were looking for to find him
And you had to wait for him sometimes
Walking out of his front door, grinning
Backwards baby blue hat and sneakers
He was never conventional
He wore a broken watch that he stole from you and technically it wasn't stealing because you offered to let him keep it, maybe it was because you never wore it and it didn't fit your wrist or maybe you just wanted to see his skin glow under the admiration of his new gifted accessory
He was an autumn breeze
Giving you enough chill for goosebumps and a light jacket
But not enough to have to double up on socks
He and you share a hot chocolate and a cigarette on the hood of your car
The weight of the world blows in the wind and he smiles at you
Stirring a storm within your stomach but you swear it's just the weather
He was a spring flower
Blooming into existence
Growing older, wiser, never losing sight of what he wanted
He was the nicest person you had ever met
Compliments fell off of his tongue as if he did not have to force them, it was his second language
He was lovely in the early hours of the morning, gentle and sincere
He was dizzy, lighthearted, half open eyes, drifting in and out of sleep
Counting every shade of blue in his eyes just until they closed again
So you would start over
Sometimes
He was a winters night
Drowsy, drowning in his cognitive activities
He let himself go, he sat in the dark, decorated with trembling candle wicks and your favorite song playing
And he wrote songs about lost love and misunderstood emotion
Convince himself he is gentle enough to touch the trigger without pulling it
He was seasons of tenderness, unfolding, flying like a paper airplane
Bending at the knees, blushing, beaming, spinning words around in your head as your thoughts come undone
He was perfect to you
But you didn’t know how to love him
It was hard to convince your heart to hold on to something when it has grown so accustomed to letting go
Never grasping the concept on how to stay in one place
It always liked the chase
Running towards and then away from
It was a game they could only win if they decided not to play
It was a life of solitude and confusion, it was the only way you knew
And he deserved better
But he never left
Checking his broken watch while sitting on a wooden bench, it was as if time had stood still
And he hadn't been waiting at all
366 · Mar 2015
How They See (Pt. 2)
authentic Mar 2015
We arrive at a beautiful bridge,
lit with candles and dressed in flower pedals
It doesn’t look like a very far walk and I wouldn’t mind if it was
Every second with him is one I cherish
I turn to him as he puts the truck in park and unbuckles
He's smiling out of control, I wish I knew what he was thinking
He wipes his hands on his pants and steps out
"Looks like we've finally made it you grump," he says to be playfully and still smiling
"Well it's about time," I say as I unbuckle and reach for the door handle without thinking
He looks at me with a stern look and says, "What are you doing? In all the years we've been together have you ever opened your own door?" God, has he always been this fascinating
I feel like I'm walking through my life with this immaculate creature
I mean how could he even still want me after 4 years?
He shuts his door and I can see him smiling as he walks around the front and to my door, swift movements as he runs his fingers through his hair, I swear I could watch him walk in circles around this old truck
He reaches for the door handle and holds out his hand to help me out
This is basically a routine thing that we've done since the beginning but every time is just as sweet as the first
He reaches in the back and grabs something
"Look away!" He demands, so I do
He has a picnic basket and has tucked something into his pocket
I think nothing of it and we head towards the night
The moon illuminating the walk way and the autumn leaves crackling beneath our feet as time begins to slow

We finally arrive, thank God the candles haven't gone out yet
This **** bridge was so risky but it's where we met
She probably doesn’t remember, but I do
It's not a very far walk to the end, though I wish it was
Walking with her is like walking with all the light in the world
I cherish every second, she makes me feel like life is worth living
I see her turn to me and I'm so nervous but somehow manage,
"Looks like we've finally made it you grump"
I can't stop smiling, but neither can she
That's a good sign right?
"Well it's about time," she says as she reaches for the door handle
"What are you doing? In all the years that we've been together have you ever opened your own door?"
God, I don’t think she's every looked so beautiful
She looks down, giggling as she places her hands in her lap
There's something about the way she laughs, it's so playful and light, it's like a song that gets stuck in my head
I don’t know how she still wants me
I swear walking around the front of this truck is the longest walk ever
I run my fingers through my hair just to tease her
I open the door and reach for her hand, I hope she doesn’t feel the sweat layering them, I don't think I can bear to tell her why
I reach into the back of the truck and shout
"Look away!" and thank God she actually does
I shove the box into my pocket and grip the picnic basket
I hope she doesn’t have any ideas, not yet at least
We head towards the night
The stars in the sky lit the way, they looked almost like a map
The leaves crackling beneath us sound like fireworks
The ones she's always loved
We continue walking and I can almost feel time begin to slow
authentic May 2015
I love watching the world fall asleep
Tucked underneath a skyline blanket of atmosphere winking at stars as if it's something that's it's not supposed to do but it's beautiful anyways
Lying beneath the quaking sound of the interstate cars running wild burning up gas like wildfire smoking the ceilings of bedrooms
Backseats made to feel like a home
The world is falling asleep and I am lying awake
Loving someone who is loving someone else
Watching her drift into unconsciousness like it is the first movie he has ever seen
Watching her while I am watching the world
I wonder if we are looking at the same thing
authentic Nov 2014
Opening windows to let in the air that we never thought we would need to enter because our lungs
could surely sustain us from the wind but not from this
This storm that has occurred took me by surprise
and I am not able to sustain myself
I have been learning to stand up straight without anyone else's help but lately I have found myself falling a lot
My hands are always shaking
My knees tremble because they cannot hold this weight
Always slipping in the exact moment
when I stop paying attention to where I am going
I have learned that pain is not worth anything more
than the words you can dig up to describe it
I am crumbling like a palace of cards
It only takes a light breeze
To knock me over
Completely
360 · Oct 2015
I Look Forward To When
authentic Oct 2015
You will come home to me in the late afternoon
I will have gotten home from work just a few hours before you
Enough time to get comfortable and start our dinner
You swing open the front door and shut it softly behind you
Taking off your coat and hanging it up
You set down your bag and I hear your footsteps nearing the kitchen
You greet me with a smile and a kiss and I ask you how your day was
We talk about your boss's new rules and how you may be getting a Christmas bonus
I tell you about how the internet went down today so I got to come home early and miss traffic
As the food approaches it's time of readiness, you go upstairs to change
I grab two soda's out of the fridge and set them down
You stumble down stairs and we both laugh because I am usually the clumsy one
Fixing our plates you kiss my shoulders and we sit down to eat
After discussing the plans for Thanksgiving and who's house were going to first, I put away the dishes and start to clean up
You make your way in to help out so we can go shower and go to bed
After we finish, you kiss my neck and set me onto the kitchen counter
My heart races and I am amazed by how you can still light up this room I am in, start a campfire in my stomach, ignite my bones with your skin on mine, dig holes the caverns of my collarbones
You will come home to me in the late afternoon
And we will both be weary eyes but we will both be happy
I do not know who you are yet, but I am looking forward to meeting you
360 · Jun 2015
An Unknown Disease
authentic Jun 2015
This is getting old
Loving you past your act of moving forward
It is like each step you take is one I tread backwards
I wish it was easier now that I know you don't want this
Now that I know you have found something better
But for some reason it feels nothing less like my collarbones cracking in mimicking the chandeliers falling to the ground of an abandoned palace that used to be so beautiful but now left with an unlocked door and someone who has the keys but doesn't even know it
I swear it's your voice I hear and your fingers I feel tracing the rise and fall of my ribs in the early hours of the morning
When no is awake, I always am and I wonder if you are too
Part of me still remembers how you made me smile, how despite the circumstance you would aways trigger something in me, flipping a light switch, I swear I could see things clearer when I was with you
Part of me still questions the possibility of seeing you again
Maybe just once, a coffee for old time's sake
But you wouldn't for the fear she would get angry because it lasted more than 20 minutes
For fear it would actually have meant something
And after a while I get tired of thinking of you every time another boy smiles at me
It is a never-ending cycle of you running in my veins
I am afraid to give blood because I know they will find traces of your laughter, they might call this a disease
I have tried to love other people but they don't deserve half of me
I have ripped all the synonyms out of the thesaurus for lonely
And still there will never be anything to describe this feeling because humans have not yet crafted a word for it
I don’t think they ever could
You are a bittersweet memory at best
And I am going to move forward
Because I've learned that there is no use in holding onto something that just isn't holding you back
359 · May 2015
The New Girlfriend
authentic May 2015
Upon finding pictures of you ex-boyfriend kissing his new girlfriend

        1) Remind yourself why the relationship ended. Do not forget the weight in your chest that you felt when he slipped away in such a secular way, he was only doing what his friend was encouraging.
2) When you skin is itching for his touch, think of how his fingers burned holes in your skin. Look at the scars but do not stare at them, they are only proof that you have gotten stronger, do not think about the sensation of the drawn out flame. You never imagined that torching your flesh would feel so freeing.
3) You will wonder what she tastes when she kisses him. If he tastes like whsikey or chap stick or both. You will wonder what his lips feel like because you never got to experience them, do not think about this for too long, this will only lead you to bring it up in your conversation. This happens far too often than it should.
4) When you are not expecting it, though you never are, and you see the passion in his face towards her, remind yourself that he once claimed to love you. Even if he did not mean it, imagine that if you ever were to kiss him he would have kissed with the same devotion.
5) Think of how he never loved you past midnight. Lost slippers and love affairs in the aroma of alcohol or curfews. He tried and so did you but it wasn’t enough. Sometimes that's just the way it goes.
        6) When you think you are over him, have fooled yourself that this is concludes your tear stained pages, convinced that you will not answer his call. Remind yourself that you will, but do not mistake desire for love, because though he may call, you are not the only one in his recents, think of the picture of him kissing his new girlfriend and though it may break you, it will help you not to get wrapped up in the thought that he might actually miss you too.
359 · Jun 2014
Unbearable
authentic Jun 2014
You are graceful and beautiful and tender and hopeful and I am so in love with you and all that you are but I can not stand it any longer because you are not at all in love with me
unrequited love *****
358 · Apr 2015
When He Says
authentic Apr 2015
When he says that he no longer wonders what your lips taste like
A light switch will go off in your chest
A firecracker, time bomb, grenade, explosion, beating of drums
Drop the ball in your throat, feel it sink down into your stomach
You will appear to be quiet on the outside
Your ribs will break one by one and shards are going to crumble into each other like buildings falling to the ground
You will have to hold yourself in your own arms
You will howl and collapse like a dying star and remember that he was the Earth and you will continue to heave even after your body can no longer produce salt water tears
You will remember things more vividly now
The way he looked at you when you were singing in the car
The way he pulled you in when you tried to move away
The grip of the handle as he opened the car door
The way his lips felt on your neck
You are going to remember the temperature of standing in the road, you are going to remember the embrace, you will remember looking up at him
You will remember it all as if it is a movie playing in your brain
You will remember how he slowly glanced at the world
You wonder if eye contact would ever break
When he says that he no longer wonders what your lips taste like
Tell him that you no longer wonder either
Tell him this even though you do
358 · May 2015
Body Parts
authentic May 2015
Your smile will be a sunset shouting, declaring that mountain tops are not the most beautiful place on earth because you have always believed that was a setting saved for loving someone
Your fingertips will be magic wands casting spells on bodies who ache for illusion her hips are the trap door that I never saw coming
Your heart will be a speeding ticket, gaining on cupid as he races away with the one thing you swore you would never let go of
Your knees will be an earthquake, shaking under the sound of her breathing, bearing witness to each tendon imitating downfall
Your eyes will become testaments of the strength we never learned how to use the right way, an open drawer of instructions to someone who didn't know how to read
Your love for her will grow like wildfire, falling trees, building stairwells up past all of the smoke, you will find it hard to inhale something not seeking to **** you
Your mouth will be filled with words that have become stale from the overuse of them, you will tell her what she wants to hear
And she will always listen
one of my favorites
357 · Mar 2015
You
authentic Mar 2015
You
You are the sound of church bells on Sunday morning
You are spilled sunlight and soft mouth
You are boy with a waterfall smile
You are masterpiece I hope to paint on day
You are the extra mile, the giver, the compassion
You are drugs cleverly disguised as a boy
You will be my first home, the song I listen for at sunrise, the first place that I will be content to dwell in
357 · Jan 2015
Advice Not Taken
authentic Jan 2015
They say I drink too much
Alcohol may burn the throat but it numbs a heart's bruise
Drinking to flood my sober blues
Lips and memories soaking in *****
They say I smoke too much
The burning in my throat begins to flame
Doing all I can to smoke away your name
Although my lips recite it all the same
They say I should slow down
Speeding past every caution light
Drowning in these drunken nights
Squeezing memories in the palm of my hand tight
They say I will get over him
But I have learned that every story sounds the same once you stop listening
Every memory sits in shot glass, glistening
Calling my name as if I were its revival
Patiently waiting for your arrival
And they keep telling me you are not coming  
But you must be
**I know that you must be
authentic May 2015
At any time, my heart could stop beating
The repetitive drum pounding in my chest could cease
And it makes me wonder what have I done in my life that is worth writing about
I do not want my eulogy to be filled with my mediocre successes
I do not want my soul to leave without saying all that this body has held inside
I want to say things that make my heart beat so fast my knees quiver
I want to be horribly straightforward to the point where people wonder if I am lying and the irony of it all is that for once I won't be
I want to open up these locked doors and let people inside
Give them a tour of this garden that on some days is not always beautiful
The kind of text messages where I want to throw my phone after I press send and I want to do this because I want to know how alive you feel when you feel something for someone else
Some of us are doing our best to be happy but avoiding sorrow can hinder us from growing
Reaching your lowest point can sometimes remind you that you know how to climb a ladder
And I know it's strange and scary to tell people that you want them, need them, miss them, love them but could you imagine dying without them ever hearing it?
356 · May 2015
Sounds From Inside of A Car
authentic May 2015
I find myself sitting in the confines of my car thinking about everything except where I am going
My destination never means much unless it is somewhere to meet you
The street lights light up this highway but inside this car it has never been darker
I think of you on most days
Most days being all days
I think of riding in the passenger seat with the music too loud
But I would still shout it to be sure you knew just how much I liked the song
I think of how now I open my own door
And I never would have thought touching a door handle would be so bonding
My wrists get heavier each time I reach for it
I think of how when I was tired or scared or worried, I could lay on your shoulder, wrap my arm in yours
I imagine that you drive with your hand on someone else's thigh
And it makes me sick to my stomach
I find myself sitting in the confines of my car at a red light
And the music is too loud, but maybe it's better that way
354 · Mar 2015
My Grandmother's Footnotes
authentic Mar 2015
The backyard fence stares me in the face
Pushing each splinter into my hands
I read its cracks like my grandmother's favorite novels
I want to see each footnote that was left there for someone else
The worlds "a wall never stopped anyone"
Are carved into the third post
I look down at my hands
They are shaking with blood and I cannot wipe them off
For the fear that these splinters will seep deeper into my skin
My life holds an uncertainty to it
Grips every piece of lust in its hands
Pulls it in, through my rip cage
Does not care if it cracks on its way inside
Anyone would drive through a locked gate
If something that they needed was behind it
I try to lie to myself often
Convince myself that this is only a little set back
That everything will be okay eventually
But I have found that repeating these words after every falter
Is getting very old
It only seems to get worse
I was told once that God does not show you the whole staircase
Only the first step
And I am trying to live by this
Trying to take one step at a time
But I have been climbing for years and I feel it decaying beneath me
I am only waiting for the tipping of the cup
A feather can break a bridge if it has endure enough
The backyard fence stares me in the face
I realize that I have not done anything in my life
Worth telling stories about
But I want to oh so badly
I want to leave this world with a backpack
One that carries every memento, every scrapbook, picture frame
I want to show my grandchildren the novels I have written
For them to read, see the footnotes
As if they had written them
Themselves
353 · Mar 2015
Laces
authentic Mar 2015
I have a problem with love
I tend to fall for people far to quickly
And not just one person
Multiple people draw me to them convincing me
That one more love story won't be so bad
My problem with love is that I love the chase
When I catch them I am often not sure what to do
Will often confuse love with other kinds of addiction
I've learned that I love the adrenaline more than the person
So I am sorry if my feet tend to wander
When you tell me that you love me
I simply do not believe the body was meant to stand still
And I know one day I will lose my urge to run
But for now, I will lace up my shoes
In hopes that you realize, the only way to make me stay is to untie them
So as I am walking away
I fall
352 · Jul 2014
To Make Due a With Nothing
authentic Jul 2014
It's hard to make due with nothing
I love you and I hope to God
everyday
that you still love me
if you ever did
and here I am trying to make our love reignite itself with nothing to start off with in the first place
352 · Apr 2014
Numbing Nights
authentic Apr 2014
Sleepless nights fill with incompetent infatuation
and drunken bewilderment
igniting white sticks of numbness
to grip all of our pain in one palm
and take it away
in a quick instance
Hoping that maybe tomorrow you will
feel a little less pain
But when you wake up
in a painful daze
with smudged make-up on a white pillow
and cold coffee
Confused as to why
It Still Hurts So **** Much
352 · Jan 2015
To Fall In Love With You
authentic Jan 2015
I want to know what it is like to fall in love with you
So we look like lovers on television screens
Let me read between your rough drafts
Maybe walk around, my hand in yours, falling in love under the silver circle
Intoxicated by only your kiss
Making it long and sweet and so cliché
Carry me up the stairs
Come to me like an afternoon
Slowly and in fragments of a sunset on fire
Cupid didn’t have an arrow large enough to fit this love so he high jacked a plane and flew it into my chest
The sound of your name is like a sip of alcohol to an AA member
I want to think of my favorite picture of you, only to come to realize that every picture of you is my favorite picture of you
If I could read your mind I would not invade you privacy
I want to know what it is like to fall in love with you
And for you to follow in love with me as well
Next page