"My heart is a pre-owned game,
with you being the current controller.
Having being reset over and over,
I am hoping that you will be the one to pass the level and clock me,
body and soul"
Right over there.
The footprint from your sneakers,
Has left a mark,
Can you see?
Yeah, right on the shattered pieces of my heart"
"How Are You?"
PATHETIC.DEFEATED.NEVER GOOD ENOUGH.
"Poetry is proof that humans are capable of magic"
I don't even know where exactly
It's just a dull dry ache of the soul
It's just a fancy word for saying you're dying inside
... I Hurt
" Don't ever put your happiness in someone's else's hands.
They'll drop it.
They'll drop it every time"
By Christopher Barzak
It felt like our love was a boomerang that barely returned itself.
A boomerang that you throw and think surely to God,
This won't come back,
Just like all the others didn't.
But you fling it anyway and miraculously it shows up.
Like the air, the earth, the universe needed to get it back to you.
And if it's falling that you're afraid of,
we can hide from commitment
and convince ourselves
that we're just friends.
I'll learn the curve of your
smile and you'll connect my
freckles like constellations
and we'll pretend we aren't
falling like leaves in October.
"Pretending to be happy when your dying inside is proof of just how strong of a person you are."
If you are reading this
Than you have survived it all.
Heartbreak and love,
Tears and pain,
Devastation and disappointment.
Look at this,
Here you are.
You go you awesome *******,
You are still here and you will make it
"For some strange logic,
You seem to be the only constant idea out of all my lingering thoughts.
Oh, how I wish you were here instead of in my head"
'... And she had come home to a family that she was about to destroy..."
"Their faces change into one of disgust
And their mouths only open to spit out venomous words
As the tears that have betrayed me, roll down my cheeks,
They point and laugh.
Yet the water that escapes my eyes is all for show,
Only for their satisfaction.
As I turn and run down the hall,
A grin overcomes my frown.
I laugh it off as I skip home,
Forever never living in doubt"
"My eyes are constantly darting, wandering for that one.
Would I find them walking down the street or driving in their car?
Right now life is not so good and if you were here I think the pain would subside with every breathe I take twisted in your cologne.
My hands would swipe through your hair and my eyes would take in every inch of your beautiful vessel.
Yet this perfect figure is only one I dream of, that I can only see in the darkness behind my closed eyes.
Oh, how I wish I could find you now as the scars on my body would be numbered compared to the amount you would find on me later on"
At least twice it happened.
The first time I was five and the other I was nine.
Both instances I had no idea what was happening.
It was only when the risk became known to my younger sister that I decided to speak up and confess my disturbed past.
My Parents shredded their tears and rejoiced at their failing as guardians.
Could their rivers that run from their eyes help me now? They certainly couldn't help me back then when I was trapped in his bed. Cemented between his aroused body that was firmly pressing down on me or the unfamiliar scent radiating from the uncomfortable mattress that lay beneath me. I was five.
Could their pleas of forgiveness help me now? They certainly couldn't when I was sitting on his knee as his unhesitant hand crept higher up my leg, reaching to the buttons on my jeans and unwillingly entered beyond the waistline. I was nine.
Can therapy help the fact that I hate men? How I despise the idea of love and coward away in a corner when I think of becoming close to someone. How about I can’t even be in a room alone with a male without welcoming on a panic attack.
I am scarred for life and no amount of pills or talk sessions are going to change that.
"I thought losing you was my death,
But it was when you found someone else that I died"
Then all of a sudden,
The light shone a little differently up ahead.
A glint that was familiar,
A glint of sunlight woven into hair.
Whenever he was out it happened,
Like he radiated rays back to the sun.
Letting go of your hand was easy,
It was letting go of your heart that was hard.
In twenty years from now
I don't want to be just another name
In twenty years from now
I still want to be in your life
In twenty years from now
I want someone to stop you on the street
Ask how you're doing
And bring up my name
In twenty years from now
I don't want your answer to be
"I haven't seen her in ages"
In twenty years from now
I hope you say
"She's waiting for me at home"
His skin was one of tissue paper almost; So delicate yet could tear under the simplest touch. I believe his heart was too.
Oh, how I wish I was a child again.
So care-free and naive.
Innocent and wondrous.
Curiosity would fill my mind and all the wondering's I have discovered would complete the gaps.
New friendships would be the highlight of my day and a cut on the tip on my finger would ruin it.
Oh, how I wish I was a child again,
living life to the fullest.
"Every women needs a man that will ruin her lipstick
not her mascara"
I worry there is something broken in our generation;
there are so many sad eyes on happy faces.
Not all can fathom the concepts that what is here was once not and what was here once now isn't. The soil doesn't change, nor do the old trees, yet the buildings are broken down and the people soon leave.
The visuals and sights that have over time been consumed within the air still linger in our breaths.
The road was once dirt, the river once land, that home once someone else's home.
Physical attributes change yet so do the emotional ones. A place of war and blood shed will become peaceful and goodly. A place once deemed dreadful will be contradicted by time and seen as content and amicable. A person once admired and lively will become a person admired and dead.
The air doesn't change but everything else does, allowing the next people to breathe it's past in.
I'm thinking of creating a zine consisting of poetry and photography. I think zines were such hits in the 90's and need a comeback. I'm really excited to start this project. The above is a piece I may be editing and including.
"My very existence is compelled and based on your own.
It has been for a while now.
My heart becomes quickly complex with just a mere thought of you
with you physically near, I find it hard to breathe.
I find myself falling faster each day,
Surprising myself just how I haven't crashed yet.
And I keep on diving,
Silently pleading each day your hands will come out and catch me,
Forever placing me in your heart.
Yet you continue to look on.
Gazing beyond me, your naked eye looking onto others.
I inhale into false hope, living off of it.
You're my drug, piercing my veins.
My addiction and cure.
"Your soul; running through my veins.
Your eyes; planted in my sockets.
Your fingertips; cemented in my skin.
Your heart; caressed in my chest.
Your voice; a constant melody ringing throughout my mind.
Your arms; the forever reserved safe house only for me.
Marked by one another with the same skin,
we take to the Earth together.
Only to be parted by death,
forever asleep in slumber... "
"She said she was dangerous but I said she was beautiful.
Now I understand that they are the same thing."
"The huge distance between us is almost as big as the need
I have for your precious lips."
The world that had been so familiar,
as if it were a second vessel,
shattered around her bleeding toes.
The crimson blood entwining itself in the shards
of her broken past and memories.
With her good heart,
the only hope left,
she bent to try and pick it all up.
To fix it.
Yet, she pricked her finger on the sharp edges,
turning her finger numb
and her love.
She then shattered too,
overlapping her previous life
and delicate ruby juice
with the black ashes she became.
And with our hearts sinking to our toes,
And fingers entwined with none,
We ride off into the sunset.
Looking for a new shadow cast upon the ground,
And wishing on the stars,
It wont end up like last time.
You are identical to the stars;
You shine so bright yet, are dead inside.
Often, I picture us
holding hands and watching movies,
sitting on benches beneath oak trees,
hearing you laugh throughout the day,
and catching you smile,
when you think I don't see
and all I can do is hope
that when you close your eyes
your mind is filled
with thoughts of me.
We stopped checking for monsters under the bed
when we realized they were inside of our head.
"Do you ever think,
we will find the place
where our dreams and reality collide?"
Is this what love is? Heart racing, palm sweating, high-feeling love?
If this is the truth then why doesn't he look the same way? Maybe he just hides it well.
Maybe it was never there after all.
If this is love, then please, count me out.
The act of listening to sad songs and reading poetry is a complex one.
You question life and what exactly is happening in your own.
It clears your mind and makes you realise things.
But then it can be questioned if you realised it or already knew it.
The complex part and most heartbreaking is that when the song ends and the verse is finished all you're left with is the thoughts and that,
that is truly terrifying.
"Why are you always,
hiding yourself in the shadows of the moon?"
They ponder on why you starve yourself,
Complain when you are over-eating.
They tell you to seek help,
question on why you have a counselor.
They tell you to get a boyfriend,
Call you a **** once done.
What if they found out I cried myself to sleep every night.
Get over it?
What if they found out I slit my wrist as an escape.
Next time I should just dig the razor blade a tiny bit deeper.
Now THAT would surely satisfy them.
"If you're alone
Then I guess were in that together"
" Yes I have left,
But there will be a time when we can rekindle our fingertips back together and dance in the darkness again.
I’ll be right here watching and waiting for when you come join me in the shadows"
I was being pulled by this black spiral,
going further and further and further
I was hiding under the rocks of the bottom of the sea.
Maybe the wolf is in love with the moon,
and each month it cries for a love it will never touch..
Money is man made.
Hears a funny thought!
Why not just print enough for everyone?
"Now I know you're the reason why
my heart is broken and my tears are shredding.
You were the darkest shade of black
I was just a little too bright"
My love, on the other side of the sea.
The only way we can talk is through the dimly lit screen.
Your hand reaches out as mine does too,
only to be stopped by the stupid laptop.
Oh, how I wish I could see your face instead of your picture
and fold myself into your chest instead of only dreaming of your arms around me at rest.
You're the one who completes me my love, on the other side of the sea,
yet the only one with the key is this dimly lit screen..
I envy those who believe in a God,
Believe in a source of higher power.
For they are merely strange thoughts,
embarked from life by another.
"Real people aren't perfect
Perfect people aren't real"
"Its hard to be disappointed when what you expected turns out to be true."
Jay Asher, Thirteen Reasons Why.
"Life as I know it morphs into a memory more and more
as you take each and every step away
Pondering on myself
Do I want her?
Do I need her?
I didn't think so at first
But every single time she talks to him
It drives me mad.
I want her
Like a kid at Christmas
I need her
Like a moth to a flame.