Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Feb 2014 gd
Megan Grace
I think the problem is
that I spend too much
time watching your
hands
for your words instead
of your
mouth.
and they have always told me a different story
 Feb 2014 gd
Daniel Samuelson
Don't interpret this as arrogance
But somehow I believe that every word I've penned of you has given you eternal life. 
I don’t intend my mindless musings to last beyond the end of days.
But once the pen impacts the paper,
Once the key is struck, 
My words obtain a permanence that cannot be undone. 
The ways you built me up and broke me down
How you fulfilled my every dream, then showed me where they go to die
How you whispered to me where to find my heart, and then you ripped it out before my eyes.
Every action, every word, love and spite, here and now, immortalized. 

If you love a poet 
(And worse, if you choose to let him love you, too)
Then you, my dear, will never cease to be.
I'm so fantastic at not moving on. I'd make a great paperweight.
 Feb 2014 gd
hkr
lukewarm
 Feb 2014 gd
hkr
it's  t e n  'o  c l o c k
go to bed
but the night's still young

it's  e l e v e n  'o  c l o c k
go to bed
but i have work to finish

it's  m i d n i g h t
and don't you know, it's unhealthy
to go to bed so late?

mum,
i think it's even less healthy
to be this sad.
 Feb 2014 gd
Jay
Cold Snap
 Feb 2014 gd
Jay
I find myself waiting
         for the   words     she
has
                        to say.
                           Because
I can't lie to myself-        
                                                 ­          I care.
And I still long
          to be      
                            warm.
I wrote this a long time ago..
I never posted it, but I find that tonight may be more appropriate for it anyhow.
It's freezing out.
 Feb 2014 gd
Chris
I made four blueberry muffins for breakfast.
I wore a sweater three sizes too big,
and sat on a futon two sizes too small,
reading a book I've only halfway finished
in twice the amount of time it would take
to write it.
I drove without my windshield wipers on,
three-quarters hoping I wouldn't make it
a quarter of the way across town.
I tried to picture myself walking around
without pulling my past along
behind me.
I tried,
but that doesn't matter.
**** today.
I only thought about you
while they were in the oven.
I only pictured you waking up
and feeling okay
every time I turned the page.
I leaned over and looked through
the right side of my windshield
to see the view you once had.
And the scars on my palms
are reopened every day
as I drag around everything
I cannot let go.
I don't curse much but there it is
 Feb 2014 gd
Daniel Magner
Ouch
 Feb 2014 gd
Daniel Magner
consistent
kisses on lips
hands on hips
***, cuddling
hugs drawing me near
have all been absent
for over a
year
I haven't put up walls
or barriers
which makes this
that much scarier
because it means
no one yet has
loved the
real
me
.
.
.




Daniel Magner 2014
 Feb 2014 gd
Esme Stumborg
Metaphors
 Feb 2014 gd
Esme Stumborg
I knew the woman at the Shopper's Drug Mart had never had her heart broken when she kicked me out of the hair aisle for slathering shampoo onto my chest for I was hoping that the suds would seep into my skin and find their way to my heart.
The label on the bottle read "anti breakage" and I just couldn't resist a try.
It didn't work however.
Possibly because the skin that stretches across my rib cage is no longer flesh, but scar tissue.
Or maybe its because I see the world in metaphors.
I am a Chinese flower *** and my cracks are full of gold.
My heart is a quilt made of mix-matched fabric of flaws and failures crudely sewn together with good intentions.
I am the paradox of the bumblebee who hurts herself way more to sting than to stay.
But I am too complicated to me a metaphor.
I am a human, flawed and fabulous, still trying to find out why I'm here and too naive to see I'll never know.
 Feb 2014 gd
Derek
V.
 Feb 2014 gd
Derek
V.
I would liken you to a stab wound,
the way you've caused me so much pain -
but I must admit I provided the knife.
 Feb 2014 gd
mark john junor
the unattainable girl in cotton dress with her untouched hands
her perfections body and soul are store purchased at trending boutiques
she illustrates the room into vivid colour with her casual presence
she becomes the motion in the still life drawing you live
she is the utterance of everything to be attained by dreaming
by hope
for you
the unattainable

she leads you through the broken gate
a backyard overgrown and
past the rusting skeleton of a child's swing set
night has rendered it life
and it looms large in the minds eye with terrible
wrath for its cheated years
inside the bare room
streetlight filtered by the boarded up window
sound is muffled in here
her voice strangely stagnant and heavy
as she clumsily removes her shirt
laughing a small embarrassed laugh
so unlike her cool and convincing hardcase appearance
the two of you rest a few hours cupped in eachothers arms
till daylight leeches your sleepyheads of dreams

but the tattered cover of your romance novel
is by no means a feat of strung out fairy's on a mission to condemn
they only want recompense for the time they spent wrapped in the
soiled leather sheets entertaining some middle aged naked man
and his sole desire to be pretty
she sees all this
she sits in the dry corner
eyes wide but unseeing
a song of terrors paused on her lips
the reality's of reality has not yet sunk in
but its soft spoken voice is whispering to her now
it sets its christmas card well wishes on her mantle
it lays its warm gifts on her bed
careworn toys of her bitter embraces
sit in the grey snow abandoned like her lovers
now that she found her nirvana

she will spend her days
in hard red leather and fishnet
plying the flesh pots and the mystery's exposed of naughty naughty
the unattainable girl is just a photograph now
one dimensional image of a four dimensional demon girl
 Feb 2014 gd
marina
trigger
 Feb 2014 gd
marina
the thing about addiction
is that a person
can be rid of it for
years, then relapse at any
moment of exposure
to their poison

(and this is what loving
you feels like)
Next page