glassea

glassea Sep 2015

memorial glass

see,
i died,
and she burned,
and you forgot the both of us.

haha who me i don't write poetry based on fictional works whaaat

glassea Sep 2015

5

here's how it goes:
i wrote your name on my heart
in solid black sharpie,
and i can't get it out.

glassea Sep 2015

the one thing

let me want the world
because you cannot give me it

let me want something i cannot have, that you cannot get for me, and maybe neither one of us will leave.

glassea Sep 2015

yesterday, i died

although my heart is buried deep
it is not far below -
where shadows shiver, mountains sleep
and flames will simmer low -

i left it all alone one night,
forgot where it was found -
but she told me about the life
seen buried in the ground -

i know my heart is buried deep
though it's not far below -
where bones call out and caskets weep
my body rests, alone -

****** fight me emily dickinson is fabulous (and not just because we share a name)

glassea Sep 2015

emily (dickinson)

there's an awful lot of expectations
laid on you by a name.

like.
my name is emily
but i'm no good at poetry.

glassea Sep 2015

4

you walk among the suffering
and they do not know you are the cause.