Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I am slowly learning to disregard the insatiable desire to be special. I think it began, the soft piano ballad of epiphanic freedom that danced in my head, when you mentioned that “Van Gogh was her thing” while I stood there in my overall dress, admiring his sunflowers at the art museum. And then again on South Street, while we thumbed through old records and I picked up Morrissey and you mentioned her name like it was stuck in your teeth. Each time, I felt a paintbrush on my cheeks, covering my skin in grey and fading me into a quiet, concealed background that hummed “everything you’ve ever loved has been loved before, and everything you are has already been,” on an endless loop. It echoed in your wrists that I stared at, walking (home) in the middle of the street, and I felt like a ghost moving forward in an eternal line, waiting to haunt anyone who thought I was worth it. But no one keeps my name folded in their wallet. Only girls who are able to carve their names into paintings and vinyl live in pockets and dust bunnies and bathroom mirrors. And so be it, that I am grey and humming in the background. I am forgotten Sundays and chipped fingernail polish and borrowed sheets. I’m the song you’ll get stuck in your head, but it will remind you of someone else. I am 2 in the afternoon, I am the last day of winter, I am a face on the sidewalk that won’t show up in your dreams. And I am everywhere, and I am nothing at all.
 Sep 2015 Ghost Writer
Elli
sweater
 Sep 2015 Ghost Writer
Elli
I sniffed the sweater I took from you,
and I realized that your smell is gone
and so is the comfort of your smell that goes with it,

and I'm scared I might be losing you too.
I really love your sweater and inhaling your scent and how it makes me feel safe.
 Dec 2014 Ghost Writer
kgl
Walk.
 Dec 2014 Ghost Writer
kgl
liberated:
the weight of you lingered until i was strong enough to push you away.

the fog has lifted:
the cloudiness of my mind replaced by the clarity of knowing i no longer want you here.

so walk away,
throw out your fingers to count those who let you down.
whilst you were mourning those who didn't care
the ones who did struggled
under the burden of a love
they could no longer bear

you pitied yourself,
now i pity you too
a cold, unfeeling pity reserved for those who cannot feel warmth

i told you to walk away.
 Dec 2014 Ghost Writer
kgl
Autumn
 Dec 2014 Ghost Writer
kgl
i met him in september
and his hair was kissed by light
i loved him by december
as the world around turned white

i knew him in october
when the nights conquered the days
whilst divided in my feelings
i was safe inside his gaze

i sought him in november
when my smile began to fade
i listened to his heart beat
and i wasn't so afraid

i met him in the autumn
and i hope he's here to stay
'cause nothing's felt the same since
he first brightened up my day
 Dec 2014 Ghost Writer
alex
If money could talk, the one dollar bill would tell us about shaky hands & white powder, about long thick fingernails & hopeless desperation. He would laugh when he remembered all of the tight waist bands, oily skin, & how the men would cheer as he danced in circles.

If money could talk, The ten dollar bill would shed a tear when he recalled the single mother of four, who handed him over for a cheap, too greasy, dinner in a bag. He would slam his fist on the counter as he begged the troubled boy, too young to be this sad, to put down that needle, it's not over yet.

If money could talk, the penny would tell stories between tears. Stories that he observed from the floor, a story for young girls too blinded by what they "need to look like" to take a look in the ******* mirror, for every boy, who drags sharp metal across his skin just to feel like he's wanted, for every father, who has scraped the bottom of the coffee can for enough coins to buy that bottle, for mothers, who no longer know what to say.

If money could talk, the penny would also smile. He would smile for better days, for long nights sitting in a dark box soon to be donated to those in need. He would smile for every scratch off ticket he has ever won, he would smile, as he shook his head at those who think it's over. He would smile at you, at me.
this is meant to be read outloud like a slam poem & is obviously about american currency.
 Dec 2014 Ghost Writer
Natalie
do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.
My heart is racing faster than ever before,
my thoughts refuse to slow down,
everything inside of me is shaking,
all because the possibility of you and me.

I have never been this terrified in my life,
and you haven't the slightest clue,
you're causing flash floods in my veins  
every time you speak my name.

When you say I'm a good man,
I start to forget how to swim,
but if this is what you call drowning,
I don't ever want to breathe again.

I want to tell you how I feel,
but I'm trapped beneath the waves,
forming syllables is walking on water,
and I'm still caught in the storm.

*~ Matthew Walker ~
12/11/14
Draw your knife swiftly
Stab white sheets that spew black blood
And carve lovely words
Next page