Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
AJ Jan 2014
I don't have an idol.
I just idilize
The idea of
Being idolized.
AJ Jan 2014
Sometimes ***** tastes like you.
Like having *** on the bathroom counter.
Like pizza movie nights.
Like getting high on the roof while reading poetry.
Like eating you out in the back of that church.
Like crashing that car in the field behind your house.
Like playing the guitar on your back porch.
Like the sound your horrid contagious laughter.
Like drawing hearts on each other's backs with crayola markers.
Like your tongue after the first cigarette.
Like you and me.
Like you.
Like us.
Like you.
Like you before those pills and those blades took you away.
Now like me.
I always taste like *****.
AJ Jan 2014
I found your facebook,
And your ugly.
I feel betrayed
By the power of the selfie.
Everything is a lie.
Good bye.
AJ Jan 2014
My little ghost baby is the love of my life.
He keeps me so grounded.
He is the most precious thing.
Every "I love you mama"
Melts my heart beyond belief.
He's sleeping now,
Because he didn't nap today.
But I thought I'd take this moment of silence
To appreciate my little family.
My littel ghost boy and myself.
I love you Collin.
Other stories about Collin can be found in the collection "Son", which you can find if you look in the notes down below
AJ Jan 2014
Tell me
That I'm beautiful anyway.
AJ Jan 2014
Get away from me,
My evil twin is just around the corner.
You see,
She's very protective.
You need to leave,
She is not going to be merciful.
You see,
She wasn't born this defective.
A boy she thought was man
Told her she had a pretty face,
And she lost her footing on this cliff,
Trying to kiss the space bellow his eye and above his cheek.
"Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face
The kind you'd find on someone I could save"
AJ Jan 2014
Sometimes listening to the ceiling fan
Will get me calm enough to see
That the sun didn't set any faster today.
But there are bruises I get quite frequently
From words strangers whisper to each other
Halfway across the country.
Their names are engraved in my lungs,
Their names will never be mine to see.
Next page