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3.9k · Jan 2013
Rhythmic Demise
Harlow Jan 2013
plat, plat, plat*
went the blood as it spat on the floor.
He entered the tub a few hours before.
She slipped in, with him, to rest her bleary eyes.
With a razor, she chose to never arise, and
him, with pills, a bit counter-clockwise.
Entwined, they were found in an eternal embrace,
though the events prior could never be traced.
1.9k · Jun 2013
Remember // A Warning
Harlow Jun 2013
Stay away from the blue-eyed boy down the road because God knows blue-eyed boys are trouble. He's poured ice in his chest and painted his thin lips red to convince you they still have life.

Instead, find the boy with dark eyes and coltish legs and feed him flowers blooming from cacti and honey warmed over the stove and watch his features soften under your touch.

And let yours soften too.
1.6k · Dec 2012
Clouds
Harlow Dec 2012
She was light and frolicsome, always dancing on tip-toes.
Everyone tried to ground her and spoon-feed reality into the pit of her stomach,
but her head was in the clouds, and she dare not come down.
1.5k · Jan 2013
A Winged Nightmare
Harlow Jan 2013
My Little Bird*
Oh, how I always hated that nickname.

I'm no bird.

my song not sweet;
my eyes not kind;
my bones not weak;
nor my neck so quick to break.

I don't belong in your pocket
or cupped softly in your hands.
I will not sit nicely atop your finger
nor will I perch kindly on your shoulder.

Although,
if you truly wanted, Dear, I suppose I could be your bird
but nothing like the sherbert-colored lovebird you're thinking of.

No --
I'll be your magpie,
your raven,
your vulture,
or worse.

I'll peck those baby-blue peepers from their scarlet-red pits.
1.2k · Aug 2013
Stranger,
Harlow Aug 2013
It is one to lose a lover
It is two to lose a friend
It is me who never wanted
to truly see the end
You never see it coming
i suppose that's always said
This poem ***** a lot
but so did you,
Your ex-best friend
861 · Dec 2012
The Raptor
Harlow Dec 2012
She gripped the stomach in her talons and pulverized it
   until the victim was gasping for air
and then its jaw dropped open
and saliva spilled out
   as its forehead wrinkled in the most unpleasant of ways
and it sat there in its car
and then it uttered a noise
a noise incoherent and pathetic and gut-wrenching
and in that moment humanity didn't matter
the victim reverted back to its animalistic ways
and tried to **** in air through constricted canals
and it coughed in between its heaving
and spit flew from it's mouth
and its stomach tried to jump from its body
but the trachea wouldn't allow it
and the sobbing continues until the victims head rolls to the side
and it's eyes shut
and it's all over
for now
833 · Nov 2013
Black: a Blanket, a Friend
Harlow Nov 2013
He turned on the light and I shouted because nothing felt as good against my bleeding heart than the blanket of black I had surrounded it with.
Light means inspiration and joy and painting with purple while listening to music, but black lets time stand still.
Black doesn't tell you to inhale deeply because there are more atoms in your lungs than stars in the universe.
Black holds on to you and doesn't care that your blood gets on her clothes.
784 · Feb 2013
The Flower Thief
Harlow Feb 2013
Walking down the sidewalk of my suburban neighborhood
Littered with wild flowers clumsily drifting across our path
A path beaten down by the hurtful feet of children at play
Flowers struck down from the bicycles speeding past

Until one day, one particularly flower caught my eye
Red, full, leaning deliriously into my field of vision
I plucked the top from it's green stem and pressed it to my lips
Sweet, soft, and fragrant I traced my eyes, cheeks, and lips with it

Then stuffed it in my shirt, hard, against my chest
So when my mother took my clothes off to bathe me it fell on the floor
And I screamed and cried and picked the crumbled petals from the bathroom rug
Raced to my bedroom, **** naked, to put it somewhere safe

And every morning I'd stuff the wilted petals and stale sepal down into my pockets
Until finally there was nothing left but the dust of a once beautiful flower
Heartbroken, that is the day I realized beauty is to be admired, not suffocated
But realization and affirmation are too very different things
739 · Feb 2013
Dryope, the nymph
Harlow Feb 2013
I love you
  follow me

   down into this deep blue sea
Don't you worry 'bout a thing
  'cause baby you'll be here with me

I know
  your lungs will fail you
    panic-stricken pale -- you'll be
But pain will end and light will fade
  from the stars in your eyes

I'll keep you safe
  and I'll keep you close
   but grave wax will grow
And I'll recall how you choked
  blisters will form and your body will bloat

I'll fight off the fishes
  who kiss your sweet lips
Who live in the sockets
which once housed your soul

A hopeless love
  as skin melts from bone
I should have listened
  when you said you were not home

The pressure will grow
  and I'll let you go
Lifelessly sinking
  down deep below
734 · Mar 2013
Atom's Desire
Harlow Mar 2013
I hope I am right not
to allow my body to drag it's lifeless parts back to you
to bathe in your distorted clarity

I wake in the dark parts of the night
when beings battle their ghosts
and sleep dances with death and
I find my right arm attempting to escape my 12x12 coffin
fingernails clawing the wood floors
escaping down the hall
to get out the door
to get down the street
to get to your bed
to touch your nectarous skin

And I would eagerly follow
in pursuit of my runaway arm
but gladly finding coherence in your kiss
your kiss of such insane sanity
that my tastebuds long to make sense of

But I've learned to lock my doors
less to keep predators out and
more to keep my wondering parts in
because heaven knows
they'll find the cracks under the door
and pick at the window's fraying screens
and in the morning I'll find them scattered about the house
and pull them back to my chest to put me
back together
again
670 · Feb 2013
A Cleanse
Harlow Feb 2013
She took a break from her diligent work to acknowledge the blood as it flowed,
dream-like,
towards the sterling drain.

Mesmerized by its beauty and the sheer fact that the body is
completely
at the mercy of its owner,

she wanted to stop but knew his scent still
clung
to her skin,

so she grasped the steel-wool with raw hands and continue scrubbing.
649 · Dec 2012
A Thank You Note, of sorts
Harlow Dec 2012
It was I who enslaved me,
  And you who set me free.

You stole my warmth
  When all I wanted was the cold.

You drank all my glucose
  And left me bone dry

But I like the bitter,
  And I like the bite

Because things are much safer
  Up at this height.

So I bid you adieu
  And curtsy from above.

I do ask one thing though, my love,
  Keep my heart, for I have no use for it now

An emotionless temptress
  With vengeance behind these eyes.
636 · Jan 2013
Rosey Hues
Harlow Jan 2013
Her whole life had been make-believe, a myriad of people coming and going, and she, always looking at life through rose-tinted glasses. Like a carefully choreographed dance she knew precisely when to laugh, to smile. She could feign excitement and curiosity with her eyes, alone, better than anyone I knew. From the outside she appeared perfect, as people like her often do, but I saw something in her others overlooked: the way her ****** expressions loosened their grip on the facade, the way the energy drained from her eyes when she thought no one was looking, and, in that moment, you could see a glimpse of the girl she really was. A girl lying in a dark room, at an odd hour, with the moonlight cascading down on her, and no one around to impress but herself: the only person she never quite figured out.
633 · Aug 2013
The Devil in Me
Harlow Aug 2013
I swear she's an angel with scapulae for wings
She sleeps with her back to me
so I can feel their beating in my chest
How I want to be the sin for which an angel fell

Her golden mane falls drunkenly on her shoulders
One day I found a 14 karat thread
clinging to the shower wall
And I  tore out one of my own just to be there with yours

If I could, I would
grow your hair from my pores
Just to feel that much
closer once more
616 · Dec 2012
evoL
Harlow Dec 2012
The interlocking of our fingers
was replaced by
mine around your neck.

A simple smile
evolved into
a menacing glare.

The brief meeting of our lips
fueled a desire
to tear the flesh from your bones.

The taste of your tongue
sparked a hunger
only your blood could satisfy.

The smell of your sheets
became that of
car exhaust in your garage,

And I watched as
Neptune skies covered those
brown, brown eyes.
595 · Jan 2013
Who's to be the Poet?
Harlow Jan 2013
"She wore a garland of pale blue roses,
and her eyes wept blood."

She had hair like that of black silk,
and her skin was cloaked in a milky-hue.

She had eyes you never remembered the
color of, only the fist that seemed to inflate
within the confines of your throat.

She went on plenty of dates, but the
events rumored to have happened were
never reliable (teenage boys).

She was obsessed with poetry,
always reading in class, but, like most
obsessions, I think it stemmed from jealousy.

You see, everyone thought she merely
loved the poems, but, truly,
she wanted to be one.
590 · Dec 2012
Waiting Hours
Harlow Dec 2012
I'll always wait for you in the hours before rest
where sleep nips at my heels
and exhaustion clouds my eyes
but, unchangingly, you come near.

I never see you appear,
but you slip your fingers in the space
between my elbow
and waist,

and you slide your hands
from spine to navel,
and grasp your own elbows
with opposite hands.

Your strong jaw rests amply
in the soft crook of my neck,
and your coarse ****** hair finds comfort
nearest my flushed cheeks.

I breath a sigh of relief.
This is my home;
this is where I truly find rest.
And I wake up, and you're gone,

like you have been for many years,
and my lungs feel tight,
and my back bare,
and there

I wait
for you,
endlessly,
in these waiting hours.
582 · Dec 2012
Tell Me Why
Harlow Dec 2012
Why can't I fail?
End up in Paris or jail

Why must I live in a classroom
with a degree to which I only use a broom?

Why is it so hard to believe
that someone would wish to travel and see what they could achieve?

I wish to grow and explore
because somehow I always fathomed there was more.

So I'm sorry, Momma, if it's not what you wanted
but if I don't do this I'll always be haunted.

I want to grow out my mane
and live my life free from his chain

With shot of whiskey here or there
and a complexion I keep complet-el-y bare.

I can't wait to see what I'll see
and discover just who I will be.
573 · Dec 2012
Ready For Comatose
Harlow Dec 2012
My homework is done
But my mind won't go numb
It's pulsing with words and writhing with consonants
I can't seem to keep my fingers from this keyboard
I have nothing to say
And no reason to at all
But still the spastic ******* on these moist keys continues
I don't know. I don't like it, but I can't stop.
565 · Jan 2013
A Monster's Love Story
Harlow Jan 2013
Their minds, a mysterious, contemptuous place in which many tried to dive into, and others,
The squeamish, ran after realizing just how cold the water really was.
Their collapsed hearts pump cold blood; the walls bear the claw marks of a legion of memories clawing
Their way out.
They are monsters, but maybe
They need one another to warm the icy blood coursing through their veins.
565 · Jul 2014
Half Packed
Harlow Jul 2014
The kind of thinking that gets me in trouble
Lavender and Lemon and bouquets on the counter

Here comes the white smoke
Here comes the sound
My bags on the floorboards my sanity stripped down

I've gone to the west coast
Now I'm headed for home

Don't know where that is
But I was built to roam
Harlow Jan 2013
As the leaves fell and the air grew crisp
Your voice knocked on the door of my heart.
Admittedly I didn't want you there, but

The vapor from your lungs
Found it's way into mine.
It settled there

In the space between my ribs
And the crater in my collarbones.
However, as the air grew colder,

And my heart warmer,
You denied me such sweet exhales.
Now, it's autumn again, and

I can feel your breath in my lungs
And your voice in my ears
And, I long

So helplessly
To exist in your atmosphere
Again.
written in autumn. uploaded now.
539 · Mar 2013
Birdmail
Harlow Mar 2013
I spilled ink on a white dove
folded it neatly,
pressed it in an envelope,
and sealed it with a kiss -
making sure to spread my saliva all over its open lips.

On the front I wrote your name,
but I practiced it a dozen times
(call it a baker's).
I put mine in the corner
and coaxed it towards the center.

I took it to the post office
and woke in the morning with the receipt
tattooed on my chest
along with the look on the clerk's face
when I asked for the insurance
on an envelope painted red.

But, dear, I think she messed up
because I waited but never heard the beating
of bird wings in my mailbox again.
528 · Nov 2013
Kiln
Harlow Nov 2013
He opened his mouth to speak, but she shushed him,
said she wanted to love him, said she didn't want to lose him.
It was a sound he heard too many times a day.

"shh don't talk about death.
I know you miss your mom, but talking about it makes me sad"
"shh I didn't sleep much last night, please let me rest"
"shh don't say a word; I already know"

He was boxed in tighter and told to be quieter
until there was a six inch gap between his organs and his ribs.

She wanted him to be a glazed bowl in their upstairs kitchen.
She didn't need his hair pulling at the stars.

He wanted to be reshaped,
but once clay's thrown in the kiln it doesn't know how to knead itself.
521 · Apr 2013
Absence
Harlow Apr 2013
Every day I'm born anew
and still I choose to spend it in you.

Each night I die, a slow, laborious death with nothing to hope for when there's no hope in your breath.

Each morning I rise with ambitions for the day, but your lips were far better than this coffee cup's clay,

and so I live to die again in the blue remembrance of this pen.
520 · Mar 2013
Fire
Harlow Mar 2013
And if your chest is warm then I envy your soul - to rest in such a safe and cavernous hole - and if your hands aren't ice cold then I envy the woman who gets to press her lips to your palms because mine like to chap and all too often my teeth tease my tongue, but the taste of blood is truly an acquired one. And sometimes I touch my fingers to my throat just to feel if there's a pulse - and most of the time there's not - but that doesn't mean I'm not living.

Because these are the days of the dead.

The dead who walk among us with blood and gasoline coursing through their veins and an inferno in their heart that you could not put out with a dozen of your big, red, fire trucks.
513 · Nov 2013
Faultlines
Harlow Nov 2013
don't blame your mother because she doesn't know what you're in

don't blame your mother because she's frustrated that you haven't said more than a few words and it's her weekend off

don't blame your mother for slamming your door when she enters for the seventh time today and you're still in bed

it's not her fault for the things that you feel and it's not her fault for not being able to understand
but it isn't your fault either

you've been broken ten ways to Sunday and it is a miracle you still have your limbs

you don't have to worry that your extremities are numb and chilled because your heart is doing the best it can

your vocal chords need a rest sometimes and it's not your mother's fault for not understanding

but it's not yours either
512 · Dec 2012
Identity Fraud
Harlow Dec 2012
You is me, but, more accurately,
Me is you.
I've caged your thoughts in
My cranium and shared
Them as my own.
I've taken your fears captive
And stored them down below.
I've washed my brain with
You and called it Me.
You see.
Me is You, but
You is Who?
Harlow Nov 2013
Life shouldn’t be about being successful or not.
It should be about being good to yourself and being good to others.
Nothing else really matters because, in the grand scheme of things, this life we live is temporary.
So do what you want because it’s not going to matter how much money you’ve made.
Drop out of school if it’ll make you a better person.
Spend six out of seven nights sleeping in a hammock in the woods if it makes you feel full.
Soak up the sun until your pores are buzzing, then go live the beautiful life you’ve been given.
Float on clouds and talk to strangers; pour yourself into art when you feel too heavy.
Live your life how you want to because success is not a one way street.
It sure as hell isn't a paved road.
Harlow Dec 2012
And now her mind is numb
  and the atoms take the blade (or the toothpick)

And they press firmly into the wrist
  they do it for they know no better

They have no mind, or mother, for lessons now
  and the atoms take her down the hall

In the bathroom, above the porcelain
  eyes stare at the wall

And the mind grows anxious
  and the lungs ask for air

The stomach lining fizzes
  and the fingers slip down, bare

And seconds turn to minutes
  as eyes begin to drown

And down goes the anxiety
  as well as the sludge, brown

All is dizzy in a head too alone
  so she sits for a moment

To bury the bone
  and walks from the bathroom

With a secret
  and a *moan
a little morbid, I know
Harlow Dec 2012
You hugged me, I melted into you, and

Let the old air spill from my lungs like steam from hot coffee as it hits my morning mug.

I took that one, last, long inhale before the fear set in,

And the air caught in my lungs, and panic fogged my eyes.

My knees went weak and I fought to find your anchorous eyes.

"Help me -- Help me" was all my trembling lips could demand,

Like a child drowning in the deep-end.

His hands tightened around my waist, holding nearly all my body weight

As my knees finally gave way and I fell to the floor

Like water slipping through his fingers.

He had no chance of saving me,

And with that, I hit the floor
occasionally this cold floor has a visitor or two, but they never stay around the way you do.
Harlow Jan 2013
She woke up slow,
from one of those deep sleeps
where consciousness frays her way out
from the debts of your dreams.

Slowly becoming aware of the
breath rising and falling next to her,
the paper-weight arm holding her in place,
the way the sofa pulled her from the edge, into his chest.

Finding a smile on her lips that she
had not feigned to please those around her,
and thinking, "if bombs rained from the sky the
way water does in April, I would find solace here."


With magnets in his bones and rapturous
tidal waves pushing her into his body,
she thought, *"only death herself
could drag me from such bliss that I feel now"
468 · Feb 2013
Bleed Out With Me
Harlow Feb 2013
I pressed my body into yours hoping our ribcages would fracture into one another and butterflies would pour out with scintillating wings in shades of orange and yellow and blue and we would marvel at the beauty of their colors in the fading light but from the depths of our bleeding cavities would flutter the stammering, shamefaced creatures with plum-black wings and cracks navigating their way through the chalky paste of dust and blood clinging to their delicate bodies --
and these were the butterflies to marvel at --
these were the insects we found comfort in as our abdomens bled out
448 · Dec 2012
It's been years
Harlow Dec 2012
Years since you kissed my forehead.
                            slept in my bed.
                            pushed me against the wall.
All slowed to a crawl after just one night.
The night I said no; you took it a little too far.
My skin exposed, but my soul stayed closed.
My mind is a private safe, in which only one holds the key.
But, Darling, it's not you,
And, Dearest, it's not me.
Harlow Jul 2014
If love were enough,
We'd have a small apartment in Milan.
We'd watch the sun set on the roof and drink the stars into the night sky.
We'd blend our mouths together like the colors from our eyes.
I'd cut myself open so you could see inside.
Our house would smell like lavender and our soaps like lemon.
Afternoon tea would be a ritual on par with morning coffee.
Showers would be shared,
Our lives would be wide,
And our love great.
oh Babe, if love were enough.
438 · Dec 2012
Utterance
Harlow Dec 2012
The entryway to the soul.
The root of warm feelings and kind eyes.
The enemy.

So why had it happened?
Was it a simple mistake derived strictly by folly?
Not a chance.
It was premeditated, but
The words still stammered forward, sharp and jagged.

My poor mouth,
  teeth
Trying to cut sentenced short
  tongue
Gagging on expanded syllables,
  but my larynx
Still snaking words up past
  my uvula

I wished to lap the fragmented sentences back into my empty stomach,
but they had spilled forward,
                                  dried,
                                  and hardened,
like blood pumped through the body too long and finally exposed to outside air.
438 · Dec 2012
Poor Mr. Nurse
Harlow Dec 2012
You licked my wounds and bandaged the lacerations,
but I picked at my scabs,
stuck my tongue out,
and ran about with wild eyes
and untied shoes.
437 · Sep 2014
We, the animals
Harlow Sep 2014
Do not be afraid of your anger
That boy was the **** of the earth and do not feel like
You must hold your composure
Erupt and chew him to pieces
Because somewhere along the way girls were told to be proper
And cut their food into mouse-sized bites and
then rest your fork down between pieces.

Well I'm telling you to use your canines the way they were intended
Go straight for the good meat
The raw meat hanging from the bones of the boys who came first
and left you alone in your bed at 1:44 am
Sink your teeth into his jugular
And swallow the pieces whole
Drink his blood until he feels as defeated as you did
But mostly, do not be afraid of your anger, girl.
433 · Mar 2013
The Mantra
Harlow Mar 2013
I haven't been sleeping much these days because I keep saying your name in my sleep. I like the way it drools out, slow and thick. I think I'm doing it to myself because when I look at you through these sleep deprived eyes - it's like you're an angel, with this halo of light burning all around you that I can't figure out why you always say your so cold.
Bold - and beautiful, your eyes talk to me more in the two syllables it takes you to say baby than the birds do to me in the spring. Ring - it's the phone, and it's you, an it's us, and it's let's, and it's a party; it's a restaurant, or it's you and I with some tap water on your kitchen floor.
And it's heaven, pure heaven, take-you-breath-away heaven, and I've been prayin'. I've been prayin' this doesn't end anytime soon when the moon burns so bright and your hair - it's so light.
And I haven't been sleeping much because I keep saying your name in my sleep.
429 · Apr 2013
The Pitcher
Harlow Apr 2013
My mind beats a mile a minute
I mean, my heart floods through a torrent of thoughts
For your touch, for your taste, for your
- words -
Words so pure De Beers would pay you not to produce them
And a heart so broken I poured everything I had into it
- to build you up -
- to hold you together -
And you took it and you let it heal you from the inside out
So that I still thought you were
- broken -
So that I kept filling you full
Until you overflowed and said
- I'M HEALED -
- I don't need you -
424 · Aug 2013
Let me Let us
Harlow Aug 2013
Let me use you just how I want to
Let me kiss you when you try to say no
Let me smoke half of your cigarettes
Because if it's killing you, well ****, let it **** me too
Let our ribs grow together like roots under the pavement

Kiss me like you want the world to stop and stare
Kiss me for all the lovers who just don't kiss anymore
With lips like water color, Let me see them bleed across the page
416 · Dec 2012
The Woods
Harlow Dec 2012
Caught in love's bear trap.
I jumped from my haunches and thrashed in the dirt, trying to break free, but with dirt under my fingernails and exhaustion in my eyes I knew what had to be done.
Enough was enough.
I cut through tendons and dislocated bones and spat out cartilage, unhinging the ankle from my body.
Not to say I walked away pure, unaltered, and whole.
I left part of me behind and limped from the woods with ***** fingernails and blood-stained lips.
415 · Nov 2013
blue
Harlow Nov 2013
For a while I didn't like anything
and you knew
But you also knew I always liked you

When my fingers ached under the pressure and I pressed red lines into my skin you did not call for help

you went to the store every day for a month when I would only eat kiwi
and you held my hair out of the toilet when I had too much to drink

I can still remember crying
saying you deserved more
I never learned how to give

I only know how to take

and you put my face between your hands and said god bless my soul for being mighty and deep and you said you couldn't wait to spend a lifetime drowning in it
412 · Aug 2013
Stitches
Harlow Aug 2013
Your hair got long, but I've put on weight.
And maybe it wasn't you, but it sure wasn't me.
Not then, not when my blood still ran smooth.
But I've mache'd a layer 'round my bones - cocooned them for protection,
for some day when they'll dry off in the sun and fly.

Too afraid to let my brain bleed in front of another
because I learned it's not up to them to save me.
No, because it's my needle and my thread,
and I'll sew myself together again.
403 · Feb 2013
I'm a Fiend
Harlow Feb 2013
I can't write about you
I can't write about this
How my hands kept drifting towards the nape of your neck like an addict to the needle
My fingertips a fiend for your skin
But I would look down and they were still placed safely in my lap
I tried to count the hairs on your head but got lost in the redness of your ears
Forget the play you were the main act
And I would have stayed to watch you forever
Harlow Oct 2014
My problem is I always fight for him.
I feel him pulling away and I dig my fingernails in a little more.
I make sure there's more blood in the room.
And then there's the teeth
and I'm throwing them at him hoping they'll lodge in his shoulder blades.
And then there's the red on my chin, my shirt, seeping into my chest
and I'm looking at him for answers but he's still walking away.
394 · Dec 2013
Cyclical Cycles
Harlow Dec 2013
Today
is about Tomorrow
and Tomorrow
is about the next day
and we go on living
our lives this way
393 · Dec 2012
A Fine Read
Harlow Dec 2012
I enjoyed the words falling from your lips,
Closed my eyes tight and traced the braille of your ribcage,
Found comfort in the debts of your mind, and
Rested easy in that ship-wreck you called a heart
389 · May 2013
Pleaing
Harlow May 2013
Let me use you just how I want to. Let me kiss you when you try and tell me no. Let me smoke half your cigarettes because if it's killing you, we'll ****, let it **** me too. Let our ribs grow together like roots under the pavement.

Kiss me me like you want the world to stop. Kiss me for all the lovers who don't anymore. If our lips are watercolor then I want our mouths to bleed across the page.

Love me in May and then into December because winter's are hard but summer's are far harder. The air is swollen and my lungs are weak but your voice is strong and your body is mighty.
387 · Aug 2013
Antonio
Harlow Aug 2013
My mind beats a mile a minute
I mean my heart pours through a torrent of thoughts
For your touch for your taste for your
- words -
Words so pure Delhours would pay you not to produce them
And a heart so broken I poured everything I had into it
- to build you up -
- to hold you together -
And you took it and let it heal you from the inside out
So that I still thought you were
- broken -
So that I kept pouring myself into you
Until you overflowed and said
- I'M HEALED -

- I don't need you -
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