Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
4d · 61
i just want to be clean again-
to wash away the remaining traces of incommunicable words
that still stain my skin-
the softness that i once took for granted,
has turned hard and still holds on,
its fragile, oh so fragile-
i fear that becoming stone won’t hide the cracks
i’ve spent so long trying to hide
12:44 pm
november 25 2021
4d · 52
the scars on my skin bleed red;
the burn of my flesh
from scratches meant to
rip apart the pieces of my skin
stained from your touch.
i tore myself apart,
you would still find me beautiful
even with my scars.
september 2020
5d · 365
when i wanted to die
i wished my grief would swallow me whole
like a boat caught in a storm
and with a soft, tender kiss,
would bid me a soft goodnight
Aug 28 · 162
If i gave this empty feeling a name to
beckon, call, cry or scream
I would force myself to acknowledge it’s presence.
To acknowledge the crushing weight that clings to my neck like a noose.  
I would be forced to call this weight my own,
I would be forced to proclaim it mine and face it's tightening hold
The more I plunge myself into the depths of my emptiness.
I would fear i would come to fix it,
To acknowledge that i am not okay,
That my saran wrapped skin is on display for you,
For anyone to bear witness to my path of self-destruction
To watch me to put myself together again and
Fear who I can be without this empty feeling I've made a home in.
01:57am // 08.27.2021
Aug 27 · 155
If loneliness is a memory that tastes like
cigarette smoke and *** soaked ash
I have lived it a thousand times.
If the endless nothingness of being lonely swallows me again and again,
like waves on a beach,
Leaving me to drown again and again-
Leaving me gasping for breath in a moment of mercy.
If loneliness tastes like getting caught in a thunderstorm in an unfamiliar place
And there is no one to comfort you,
Then I have been left in the cold for what feels like an eternity
Aug 11 · 199
If my father could see me now
I hope that he would be disappointed in me.
It would be easier than knowing
I can make out a man underneath the smoke,
underneath the mountain of ash left on a burning man’s face.
It would be easier to hold water in my hands than accept
that his love would burn me to ash too
i'll leave him to burn a while longer
Jul 8 · 82
i saw a video on tiktok.
on a father wanting to spend time with his daughter-
something i couldn’t quite remember
the last time i heard the words fall from his mouth without meaning.
i saw my screen through half blurred eyes,
half burned with half shed tears
as he said i love you.
something i couldn’t remember
the last time i heard those words
without filled with a need to rip my skin new.
hi i have daddy issues
julliet 8. 2021
17:27 pm
Jun 23 · 176
i hang my head over the cool white surface
gazing at last hours lunch.
my stomach hurts.

i hang my head over the cool white surface, washing away my pain
and remmenants i couldn’t flush away.
my teeth ache.  

i stare at my reflection:
short cropped hair,
almost beautifully defined cheekbones,
red eyes that feel hallowed.
my throat aches.

i turn to the cool white surface,
a colourful mosaic of food i can name
on all of my fingers
and notes from my daily logs.
i ache for the number on the scale
to drop once more.
23 juin 2021
04:34 am
May 5 · 83
my eyes burn with unshed tears
as i swallow the lump in my throat,
willing myself not to break down.
all because i heard your name in passing.
22 avril 22
02:40 am
Apr 22 · 170
it's 3 am again;
and you're still not here.
22 avril 2021
3:04 am
Apr 22 · 132
the first time,
the last time,
i would like to sleep
in your arms again, darling
22 avril 2021
02:57 am
Apr 22 · 364
pray away my sins with your lips,
fingers intertwined with mine
and whisper gospels into my ear
as we explore our celestial altar's in worship-
in hopes that i may be purified once more
avril 2021
Apr 22 · 278
say my name like a prayer on your lips,
hands clasp in worship,
and kneel before my body-
to worship as your altar
avril 2021
02:48 am
Apr 22 · 109
write me a tragedy
and i'll write the tale of you and i-
i will build you cathedrals and palaces of words
and burning infernos of our love-
leave trails of ash onto each page
and give us a bittersweet end
so that you may realize the words i spill out will burn you-
that to love a poet- to love me-
i make my tragedy yours
22 avril 2021
02:24 am
Apr 22 · 271
do not waste your breath on me.
do not waste your words on me.
do not waste your hymns or prayers on me.
do not waste your time or energy on me.
leave me be, let me rest,
let me become forgotten- erased
buried in my garden of death.
22 avril 2021
02:16 am
Apr 21 · 261
leave me in the garden to die.
i will not let you save me-
leave me alone with the dead leaves of autumn,
with the coldness of winter settling in my bones.
i don't want to be saved-
leave me along the dead and decayed
and come back to bury me in the spring.
i have left to find death,
to pick it's flowers and to finally rest.
21 avril 2021
17:50 pm
Apr 21 · 281
its a tragedy, you know.
that he looks at you as if he's the sun
and you still burn him,
sending him with wax coated wings
beneath the seas.
21 avril 2021
17:41 pm
Apr 21 · 101
haunt me long
after you
fade from me
21 avril 2021
Apr 21 · 320
the silence is deafening
the silence is deafening
the silence is deafening
the silence is deafening
the silence is deafening
the silence is deafening
the silence is deafening
the silence is deafening
the silence is deafening
the silence is deafening
21 avril 2021
17:34 pm
Apr 21 · 798
four things to know he's in love with you.
1.) he looks at you as if you're the sun.
2.) he will follow you anywhere.
3.) he will love you too much to let go.
4.) he will want you to be the last thing he see's before he goes to sleep

four things to know he's in love with you.
1.) he looks at you as if you're the sun- you're the centre of his universe and oh so beautiful.
2.) he will follow you everywhere- you wished he would stay away just this once
3.) he will love you too much to let go- you don't want him to let go.
4.) he will want you to the last thing he sees- you will be, before the water lulls him to sleep
avril 21. 2021
17:25 pm
Apr 21 · 232
"dying is easy" they said looking over at achilles standing over patrolcus' burning shroud, tears in his rage filled eyes.

"to live in this world- now that is harder." they said turning their eyes away as achilles piercing scream rang out.
avril 21. 2021
17:14 pm
Apr 20 · 41
"i’ll burn you," she said as their hands touched. she throws her head back and laughs, it's a cool, melodious sound, like summer rain on her skin.
"i expect nothing less," she says smiling. lips meeting flushed skin, hands leaving ash in their wake.
aout 2020
Apr 1 · 252
regrets are like stars;
too many to count,
too many to name,
too many to remember.
1 avril 2021
12:13 am
Mar 5 · 136
medusa stands proud.
happy and proud and peace filled.
sisters in arms held for worship,
sisters in arms disappeared from grasp.

medusa stands small.
hurt and small and shame filled.
maidenhood stolen and high priestess to athena no more,
maidenhood stolen and cursed with protection.

medusa stands weary.
cold and weary and anger filled.
isolation has become her paradise of silence and stone,
isolation has become her graveyard of silence.

medusa stands tired.
worn and tired and sorrow filled.
awaiting the blow to her neck by perseus' sword,
awaiting the blow to end her suffering.
05. mars 2021
10:15 am
Mar 4 · 123
i once wished i was made of
sharp hipbones and tainted glass,
that my wrists were tiny fragile things,
with fingers that looked like spider legs
covered in too large rings.

no one told me how much it hurt.

i once wished i was made of
cigarette smoke and black coffee.
that my body could look like a model in a magazine.

no one told me how much it hurt.

i once wished i was made of
sugar free jello and *****,
so that my body could be small and dainty-
with a hunger that could only be quenched
by photographs of unknown girls i envied.

no one told me how much it hurt.

i once wished i was made of
rotten flesh and bone,
if i couldn't be small-
i had no worth at all.

no one told me how much it hurt.
16 decembre 2020
02:11 am
the morning after i killed myself,
everything was cold.
the air,
the bathtub i fell asleep in
and the cold tile.

the morning after i killed myself
i saw no beauty in the vibrant sunrise.
i didn't think the pink, orange, yellow-
the colors i once had fallen in love with
were suddenly dull.

the morning after i killed myself
i saw my mother hesitating to go into my room.
her face tired and worn, aging years in one night,
her grip loose as she opens the door tears filling her eyes-
the faint scent of me still lingering in the air.

the morning after i killed myself,
i saw my sister staring numbly at nothing.
her eyes red and regret on her face -
her thoughts on our arguing the night before.

the morning after i killed myself,
i saw my phone blowing up with messages.
my friends ignorant to what i did the night before,
but only one person knew.

the morning after i killed myself,
i saw myself dead.
my body cold to the touch, heartbeat still
and wondered if my mother could will me back to life.

the morning after i killed myself,
i ended up missing the warmth.
my silent screams echoing in the bathroom
as i tried to undo what i did.

the morning after i killed myself,
i decided i hated being dead.
and i found myself wishing
i didn't wait too late to save myself
04. mars 2021
10:54 am
Feb 7 · 254
if my body is a heavenly temple,
i pray that you kneel before me in worship
7. février 2021
05:33 am
Dec 2020 · 381
they say all lovers die twice;
once when they die separate,
the second when they'll forgotten-
and their story along with them.
16 decembre 2020
02:23 am
Dec 2020 · 324
you had a smile on your face
as you fell to your watery grave.
i wondered how it felt to bear witness to your lover-
to see Him,
to touch Him,
only to burn as you fell.
16 decembre 2020
02:20 am
Dec 2020 · 224
no one tells you when
loving someone becomes too much ;
it seethes.
it waits.
it blooms.
and sometimes it rages,
and sometimes it ends.
16 decembre 2020
02:14 am
Dec 2020 · 182
i can count the number of times
i felt like killing myself
on both my hands, feet,
on all of my bones with my eyes shut.
i could tell you details,
how, when, why,
but change my answer each time-
i could count those times on both hands.

i could tell you of the days i think of
fireflies in the summer
and snowfall in january,
how both disappear after time,
yet i can remember the images
so clearly, so vividly.
i could count those times on both hands.

if you asked me to share
the number of times i felt like killing myself
you’d be waiting for months, years even.
maybe sooner,
as you might be reading my note,
with them all included.
03:12 am
10 décembre 2020
Dec 2020 · 311
what happened to us?
the flicker of times gone by,
the brief glimpses of past adventures,
phone calls that go late into the night,
i look at you- eyes red and hair askew
what happened?
where did you go?
and i realized the door is open,
and the ground is cold.
30 novembre 2020
Oct 2020 · 493
Untitled #8
the gentle hands that wrap around my throat,
the decorative jewels of bruises,
the pale flesh that inspired poetry,
kissed by the silver blade
as i kneel in the scaffold
29 octobre 2020
06:33 am
Oct 2020 · 346
sometimes i miss the touch of rain on my skin,
the water pouring down on my body,
soaking me to the bone.
sometimes i miss the feeling of calmness,
the racing thoughts in my mind
drowning into a peaceful quietness.
sometimes i miss the feeling of not knowing
where my tears begin and the rain stops,
basking in the sorrows i feel.
sometimes i miss being alright,
the depths of numbness,
the emptiness staring back quietly.
sometimes i miss the sun,
sometimes i miss the loud thoughts.
sometimes i miss the nights it rained for hours.
sometimes the soft sounds luring me back to sleep.
sometimes i miss the calmness i seek.
12 octobre 2020
6:48 am
Oct 2020 · 346
Untitled #18
with your sin stained touch,
unholy scriptures,
and whispered prayers
falling from your wicked tongue,
sometimes i wonder if we’re
truly of the ******,
disgraced in the eyes of the lord,
or if the lord revels in our unholiness
7 octobre 2020
13:03 pm
Oct 2020 · 694
maybe i miss the butterflies.
maybe i miss the warmth.
maybe i miss your hands in my hair
or the moment time stands still.
maybe i miss the fragility.
maybe i miss the late night talks.
maybe i miss your lips on mine
or the moments of peaceful silence.
maybe i miss the time.
maybe i miss the what if’s
or the what could’ve beens
or maybe i miss the idea of you.
7 octobre 2020
12:50 pm
Oct 2020 · 430
love is a double edged sword
that speaks truths and lies,
aphrodite and ares, venus and mars,
love and war go hand in hand
as does death and beauty
5 octobre 2020
11:38 am
Oct 2020 · 161
Untitled #9
if you asked me the moment
icarus felt like tragedy and poetry,
i would laugh and say he knew,
that boys who love suns are already tragedy,
but seas who love boys are poetry,
because love is a double edged sword
and the moment of clarity ends all too soon.
5 octobre 2020
11:34 am.
Oct 2020 · 304
A faint moment of serenity,
kisses that stain hands in worship,
of feathers light bliss,
using sinful touch as words,
singing praises and gospels
almost missing your wicked smile
1 octobre 2020
8:59 am
Sep 2020 · 481
i remember the taste of metal in my mouth,
the warmth and the pain of
turning my fiery words
into mountains of ash
years of biting my tongue,
wanting to scream,
yet the smoke chokes my lungs
2 septembre 2020
8:33 pm
Aug 2020 · 214
Untitled #17
you’ve become nothing
but fire and wax and regrets.
you’ve become a cautionary tale,
a warning of loving too much too fast
you’ve become a memory
in a long list of lovers, of tragedies

you’ve become nothing
but ash and feathers and bone,
you’ve become a story,
a tale of boys who fell for suns
you’ve become a glimpse,
a moment of clarity that ends all too soon
29 août 2020
3:10 pm
Aug 2020 · 112
Untitled #11
my friend,
comes for us all in the end.
27 août 2020
17:45 pm
Aug 2020 · 169
i cannot take back the words i say
and swallow them up
as to make them sweet for your ears.
i cannot make my pain sweet.
i cannot take the blood and push it back into my body from which it has bled.
i cannot make the bitter taste disappear with lovely words that sound hallow.
i cannot hallow myself out,
make room for your words that push me aside.  
i cannot make room for you,
for your words are a knife to my body,
a scar i cannot heal,
a pain that will never go away.
i cannot write the sweet without the bitter,
i cannot be your poet with my lips sewn shut.
27 août 2020
5:42 pm
Aug 2020 · 161
Untitled #10
my body’s missing pieces,
and i don’t know
how to fix it,
or fill it
without your embrace.
27 août 2020
5:27 pm
Aug 2020 · 182
light shrouded in darkness,
even you couldn’t help it
never once fitting in or sticking out,
always one with the light
19 août 2020
7:03 pm
Aug 2020 · 285
always shining bright,
never frowning or ill at ease,
never letting me down,
and i never thanked you
19 août 2020
7:00 pm
Aug 2020 · 166
anything for you i would
keep trying to make your shine known
out of all of us, i
toast to you as i raise my glass,
and you’ll be amazing
19 août 2020
6:58 pm
Aug 2020 · 222
Untitled #12
every day is a new adventure with you,
voicing our thoughts
as the weight of the world closes in.

midnight talks and kitchen dance battles,
a hopeless type of gal,
red roses,
i loved you
and you’ll never know how much
19 août 2020
6:54 pm
Aug 2020 · 172
Untitled #6
the days seem colder without you,
i guess you’re a memory
that will never fade,
your touch hollows me out
and leaves me cold and sore
19 août 2020
6:48 pm
Aug 2020 · 921
love is, perhaps, the cruelest mistress.
5. août 2020
16:07 pm
Next page