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Jan 2018 · 174
divinity
with a face so purely divine, as if in his presence I wore lenses built solely to detect the most godlike of masterpieces—a preview of things holier than psalm written by the apostles themselves—he knew not of his masculine beauty and enchanting charm. I knew I would love him—perhaps I knew I already had. then he smiled and without a word his eyes told me he was thinking the same thing too.
Aug 2017 · 164
Love said, "
Love said,

                 "Don't die, you are the dream our earth will always need & the hope our galaxy has been holding onto. You are all this Universe has been waiting for."
Aug 2017 · 145
life offer
and then i heard life offer her a fairytale
Aug 2017 · 124
spring
spring is a blushing girl with a morning song.
Aug 2017 · 163
Mr. Lonely & Miss Lovely.
just a letter away are Miss Lovely & Mr. Lonely
ah, but,
very rarely do they write one another.
Aug 2017 · 116
the Beginning of Time
just before the Beginning of Time
i Saw you, and you, me
and i have missed you ever since.
Aug 2017 · 124
her smile
her smile made wilted Flowers reconsider their Fate
and stormy Clouds re-evaluate their Fears.
Aug 2017 · 113
while
while the Secrets slept
the Demons crept
and Angels forgot their duty.
Aug 2017 · 117
journal/entry
I feel detached from myself and the world and the present.
I feel my back against the bed but there's something that pitters and patters in the core of me—in my throat when I swallow, in my mind when I think, in my feet while I fidget here in this twin bed. I am exploding from the inside out. Every sound grinds into me. The cape cod breeze pushing the window shade back and forth makes a messy uniform of continuous slashes and scraps on the wood windowsill. The noise crushes my lungs. The fan at my feet makes its infamous soothing noise that does anything but. As I think and try to explain to you my feet fidget and shake and tap more and more with stronger force and extortion as each milisecond moves forth. The ticking clock watches me from her designated spot. Curious but not alarmed. My heart is racing. It's been racing. Against what? Who? Lots and lots of nothing's and no ones and again I find myself alone only with myself — the most lethal of company.
Aug 2017 · 108
lingering
lingering on your breath
was the taste of a drunk angel
committing sins she'd regret
in the morning.
Aug 2017 · 101
bio
bio
on earth they consider me
twenty-six &
mentally ill
with big blue eyes &
a stare that kills.
Aug 2017 · 180
the Bitter engagement
nervous eyes engage in the
   Bitter Taking.
nervous lips engage in the
   Bitter Tasting.
& naive hearts engage in the
    Bitter Breaking.
Aug 2017 · 90
d a r k n e ssss
there was so much
d a r k n e s s
it was wildly overwhelming.
it shifted and it pranced
and it hopped around and
was near and was far
but was always, always
there.
Aug 2017 · 133
irony
creative brilliance only
woke from sleep
when she was at
her most instable
Dec 2013 · 564
i wonder
I wonder how that goes;
what if I died thinking you still loved me—
if I never discovered your lies.
Would I be in Heaven guiding
the man I'd had spent my life with
if I hadn't passed?
Or do I find out the lies
and deceit
and infidelity
as I walk through The Gates.
Would I have to suffer heartbreak
even after death?
Would I die once more while
after making it to
Heaven?
Dec 2013 · 847
you
you
since i can't hug you
i'll hug the toilet seat.
i'll love my demons
and pretend they're you.
ironic,
you both treat me
exactly
the
same.
Dec 2013 · 654
piece peace
i'm carefully placing my brain
inside a blender
and setting it to
the fastest speed.
i'll feed it to you through
a feeding tube
so you can taste
what you need;
peace of mind.
Dec 2013 · 541
moment
we'd park his death trap and
my hand would
grasp the door handle.
just one pull with a few fingers
would release the door's lock
and the hinge would come alive
with a faint squeak.
instead,
he'd always linger and stall
and find ridiculous excuses
to stop us from getting out of the car
just yet.
he'd ask countless
and, frankly,
useless questions about next to nothing
and my impatience would build.
within minutes I'd tell him to shut up
and just get out
'cause he's being annoying and taking too long.

that's when he'd pause.

big brown eyes consume the blue of mine
and I can't breathe never mind speak.
awkwardly but gently,
sweetly but honestly,
he'd ask if he could kiss me.

those are the moments i remember.
those are the moments i won't forget.
those are the moments that made me feel
alive.
those are the moments that kept me alive
when I didn't want to do this life **** anymore.

i love you and i will always love you.
no day goes by where i don't think of the
chocolate brown of your eyes and
the long, thick lashes that decorated them;
no day goes by where i don't think of the
two dark freckles on your jawline
that could only be seen when
you clean-cut, freshly shaved;
no day goes by where i don't think of
your chain and
how it fell around your smooth olive skin
and how my fingers would curve
and twist and
****** the steel
when I would jump from
the passenger seat to the driver's,
on top of you;
no day goes by where I don't wish
I could relive those days
over and over
and ******* over
again.

i'm no longer sad you broke my heart,
i am forever in love with
the memories of you having
held my heart
with strong hands
for even just
a moment.
maybe in another life,
we'll meet again.
even for just one more
**** moment;
one
more
moment
to
last
a
lifetime.
Dec 2013 · 1.5k
momentary
they were nothing more than momentary.
they were like the leaves that rustle by
as you walk the rocky edges of a side street's sidewalk.
they were like the car that cut you off in the middle of the city.
they were the goosebumps you got when
a random cool breeze touched the edges
of your bare arms that weren't covered
by your light blanket on a warm June night.
but, oh, we're they genuine.
their love was intense and internally satisfying for
all bystanders who were privileged with
witnessing of poetic couple.
their love ended as quickly as it began
and never again would the two be.
they'd cross paths time and time again at local cafes
and from afar they'd lock eyes in the crowded subway tunnels
but after their last lip lock,
never again did their lips meet each other's,
never again did their bodies intertwine
under sheets that almost lit up in pretty flames
due to their unusual spark.
both would never again find a
cosmic, storm-like, life-altering love
like they once created together.
they both lived separate lives and
they both died separate deaths that,
regardless of their time apart,
still silently shared an unbreakable bond,
sealed with the unforgettable memories of
their meeting;
the meeting of two souls connecting
in such a way
even Fate grew envious of. t
hey both quietly lived
and then quietly died,
always
determined to still
meet once again behind
Heaven's gates.
Nov 2013 · 602
resemblance
my thoughts aren't kind
but
my thoughts aren't evil.
they resemble something
like
a human being.
Nov 2013 · 425
i want
i want to rip my eyes out
i want to scrape off all of my freckles
one by one
then all of my skin
i want to grab and stretch it till it rips off
i want to take that part in your throat
where you feel like you're gonna cry
out with both of my hands.
i want to twist my head off and stomp
it into the ground.
i want to stab into my chest and
rummage through all of the useless body parts
until i get to my decaying heart so i can
take it out and cut it into one hundred tiny pieces
and feed it to a snake like the boy who broke it.
i want to hit the side of my head hard enough
until a hole forms and my brain falls out onto
a pan so i can fry it.
i want to rip myself apart from
every angle
but be alive for it.
i want this mental pain
to be physical -
to be
seen.
Sep 2013 · 667
i have to go
he could not be compared.
he was lovely.
he was drowning in faithfulness.
he was what i thought i dreamed of.
problem is, though;
while i was busy falling in love, i
unknowingly built the walls of my life parallel to his own
and now these walls are deteriorating,
these walls are crumbling and *****,
and mostly because
there’s no windows for me to see out –
i have no idea what could possibly lie
behind them,
amongst them,
with them,
without them.
he offers to install windows,
he offers to break these walls down
with his own bare hands,
he offers to join me in
finding out what i wish
to see beyond these barriors.
but i don't wish for him
to come with,
i wish instead
to leave him inside.
i wish to leave him
altogether.
i wish i didn't wish so.
i wish i didn't have to go.
but i do.
i do.
Sep 2013 · 377
some
some ghosts roam Heaven dying
to live again
some humans roam Earth dreaming
to die for once
Sep 2013 · 350
dark lights
she possessed a heart
so dark
he was puzzled
about how she
lit up
his world
Sep 2013 · 1.1k
Bulimic feelings
She didn’t want the feelings anymore.

She didn’t want the lingering sadness after a short high of happiness.
She didn’t want the questions eating her up at night.
She didn’t want the worry of what she was and what she wasn’t.
She didn’t want to wonder if she was doing things right or completely wrong.
She didn’t want to be the home to violent hate for herself
but the same home to a vibrant and gentle love for him.
She had to get it all out.
She needed to reach down and take all that was within and put it outside of her.
She needed to **** what was in her.
She needed to purge all of the bad that was disguised as good.
These pretty butterflies fluttering through her belly had to leave.
Her stomach and her throat and her heart were no longer their flying grounds.

First, a few fingers reached
but didn’t get the job done.
Then a forceful full hand with nails full of flesh and blood tried to make its way to the creepy little critters that made her stomach tickle with sadistic love
but to no avail.
Finally, a full hand and half a forearm tore through the esophagus and the stomach lining.
At last, she could get them all out.

She sat hung over the toilet with a satisfying pain
that a pretty devil told her was the only way to get the buggers out,
the feelings out.
Slumped over the toilet,
she noticed there was a sweet and sour twinge of numbness dressed up as happiness running through her mind.
Hundreds of dead, black, sad butterflies floated at the top of the toilet.
They were all out.

She didn’t have the feelings anymore.
Sep 2013 · 710
She couldn't let him
He couldn’t love her.
She was too dark.
Her insides were too twisted
and her brain was too sick.
Her bones weren’t sharp enough
and her soul was out of shape.
Her eyes were tired and blurry.
He couldn’t love that.
She couldn’t let him
love the Devil.

— The End —