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Oct 2017 · 632
I tend to lose days when my eyes stick, ****** Haze, I couldn't tell you the last meal I ate, or how many hours I've been awake, just that the days and nights have been a passing phase, no more than light change, I've always been a night owl anyway.

See my life started spiralling when she died and I cried hard enough, but not for as long as I need and now my heart is barely beating unless my lips are pointed at fire, and sometimes the flames are men 13 years older, sometimes the flames are tips of cigarettes and my own arm because I'm manic and driving and I'll barely feel it.

I feel nothing and everything all at once.

 Usually, this is when I tell you I met some boy who made my heart stop beating so quickly, when I would tell you how his kisses soothed my burns, but this, is not that story

I met a man who kissed softly, who touched with purpose but delicacy. Who tasted my soul before my body, and made his chest a place I long for... but cannot reach.

My hands hurt from pounding on the walls inside myself, I want to let him in, but my body breaks into shake, my body shudders at the idea of being left again, my voice barely makes out "I love you" before my mind starts racing with what it will look like when he leaves.

I drafted a poem the other night and all I could get down was that the poem I write when he loves me, will never be as good as the one I wite when he leaves, and I still believe that's true, no one has ever shown me a love beautiful enough to write well, or maybe I've just not had enough practice.

It's days like this that I wonder if I knew what time it was, would I still be thinking of you, if I knew what day of the week it was, would I still be stuck in your bed, with your smoke, and your smell. I can't remember the last time I felt so intoxicated without a line, I speed faster from your touch than the red bull and adderall, but love, I crash harder than 3 day binge when you leave

They say addiction will make you forget how to love, but you are a much more dangerous vice.
Haven't posted on here I'm ages, welcoming myself back.
May 2015 · 1.4k
Brontide (a sestina)
(n.) The low rumble of distant thunder
The sky soon shall shed its tears,
I sit outside I have no fear.
I imagine myself on the pale hot shore,
wiggling my toes in white sand,
laughing at the idea of rain.

What numbskull could think it would rain?
I have heard no thunder
but my ears were full of sand.
I did not feel my eyes fill with tears.
I made my bedroom door the shore
and I was an ocean people would fear.

I had never felt this much fear
clouds filled my eyes and down came the rain.
The storm now covered every inch of the shore
and my words became the loudest thunder.
I awake in my bed, wet from my tears
and I wish I was in the sand.

Oh, I wish I was in the sand,
not drowning in a puddle of my own fear,
not filling my lungs with salt-like-sea water tears.
My wishes are wicked away like sprinkled summer rain.
They are as far away as the low rumble of distant thunder.
They come and go as often as the shore.

I open my door, greeted by the rising dawn shore
and I step on the carpet like it is the white sand.
There is no more thunder,
but there is still fear.
I sit on the back porch, and feel the morning summer rain,
and wonder why the sky here, always has tears.

The sky fills its own eyes with tears,
and the sunrise still reminds me of the shore.
I wish that in the morning, it was not allowed to rain,
that it had to be crisp and dry like summer sand.
That way I do not have to fear,
the low rumble of distant thunder.

Oh, the morning showers are the sky’s jealous tears, he wishes he could be a sun rising in the sand
He rumbles, ”The morning sun rising with the shore is so much more pleased, he never cries, he never weeps! Please do not fear,
the rain, but the rumble of low distant thunder.”
Apr 2015 · 772

Your warm body, an exact mirror copy of your plump lips that kiss my mouth, I lay my head upon your chest, thighs, back, shoulder, any area where I believe I could sink into you and become enveloped in your supple, sweet, indulgent body.

Your body was the first I felt comfortable in. Your body is the only body I feel safe in. When I crawl into my place in the corner of your shoulder and your chest I hear your heartbeat slow, and I feel your breathing pace but when your arm grazes my shoulder my heart races and I do not know why.

Your illusive brown eyes, see they were not brown after I got close enough to see, your eyes were the darkest shade I had seen until you allowed me to graze the skin of your face and I was absorbed by the brilliant green that took me by surprise. How did I not notice the eyes before me? These eyes so unlike what I had learned before, I assumed you had to have known magic to preform such an illusion.

Your warm heart.

This heart that you allowed me to caress, allowed me to kiss, allowed me to love. This heart is what I am reaching for when I sink into your body, searching for my safe within your chest, my strength within your shoulder, my passion within your thigh, I am always searching for the things you allow me to feel. And you lead me to them every time. You've never allowed me to look in the dark, without your guiding hands, I still do not understand how you walk so calmly in the dark, I swear if must be magic, some amazing illusion.
For Karissa Nicole
Mar 2015 · 3.5k

Blunt force trauma
a blow to my psyche from your hammer of hands who pounded into my mind making me fear your preconceived ideas of my undying faith to your never ever loving thoughts about my, then, innocence. so many times-


How many times did I trust the snake who hung, from the oh sweet forbidden fruit who's aftertaste bit me every time?
Who's deep rooted poison made me a pile of decaying flash, leaving me with a smell that drew all vultures to my feet.


Every ******* one swarmed my flesh, biting, marking me with their jagged teeth that covered the tip of every finger, that kept the skin bloodied and bright red for identification.


The ID of the body I see in the mirror, Jane Doe to myself, and target to the man who mangled my soul even more that it's vessel. Who's voice rattled my bones and hands cracked the chest casing under my already blue and pruple skin he kissed with his knuckles just-
Just enough.


Enough of me he became and the red of my skin was no longer his favorite and I longed for my red to change hue and I checked its tone when I dipped into the rivers beneath my skin and all I did was make myself a prisoner to the body I painted different ****** shades to make him want me.

But my red turned fall and I was no longer a color he could see, but a place he had never been and my characteristics were as mysterious as the reasons I thought I deserved red.


Blunt Force Trauma
slam poem
Mar 2015 · 1.1k
My Greatest Condolences
My greatest condolences to the woman who loves me.

My body fears your love of me and constantly repeats the mantra of you leaving but you seem to stand even closer when I break. You tell me every time you aren't going anywhere but the pure unfamiliarity is because you, are the single thing I have ever loved, and never hated.

My greatest condolences, because I'm hard to love.

Your hands graze the body that I live in that I refuse to own. I imagine them painting my soul, covering the black holes with the colors of fall. You tell me you love every inch and I wonder about the centimeters. I take your kiss like a pill used to subside the symptoms of his neglect.

My greatest condolences, because I never believe you at first.

People are not medicine but your face helps me sleep more than ambien ever did and no, your are not going to cure me but I will survive. I do not need a cure, I need management. I take you every night before bed and wake up thinking about your arms caressing my side, yes, I said MY side. I'll admit that this body is my own as long as you're touching it, as long as your hands are soft on my skin.

My greatest condolences because you are the prescription that cannot skip
Mar 2015 · 740
Bird Song
**** every person who ever said "don't romanticize self harm"

**** every person who just stared and never asked how I was

And **** those friends who never helped, who never even cared to bring it up when I gave myself stitches in their ******* bathrooms.

There is nothing romantic about the slashing of your own flesh. There is NOTHING beautiful about the change of skin tone on my legs from scar upon scar. There is nothing romantic about self harm but the love of my life can touch my scars and I can ******* undress for once without hiding.

She can graze and stare and one day she kissed.
She kissed and she kissed and she ******* kissed until my eyes burned and I was shattered. She ******* broke my ribs when she touched them and punctured my lungs when her lips plunged into my valleys of pink and purple and I wanted nothing more than my scars kissed.
I wanted nothing more than to be ******* loved and my pain to be ******* recognized and romanticized until I couldn't feel it anymore.

So **** those who said don't romanticize self harm.

Because I am scared and weak and sad and I want to be swooned and coddled and treated like the wounded bird I am. My wings were clipped with my own hands and she desperately tries to heal them with every ******* kiss.

And I can feel the bones form and the feathers grow

I was a ******* crow and she made me a dove.
Mar 2015 · 716
The first time I wrote about you, I thought you would think it was romantic, I thought you would appreciate all the time I thought of you.
The second, I realized you weren't here for romance or flowers or kisses on the porch.
The third, I wished you were.
The forth, I settled with being an object of your torture, and sometimes play.
The fifth, I decided I was nothing with or without you.
The sixth time I wrote about you it was about the **** I told everyone else was the first time we had ***.
The seventh, I pretended that my broken rib didn't stab into my lung when I coughed up the tar that filled my lungs, I picked up habits that could never hurt me more than you.
The eighth time was when you decided I was worth your time again.
The ninth was the first time I said I loved you, and it felt like I hated you.
The tenth, I was territorial, I wanted to be the only one you abused.
The eleventh, I played with the idea of you loving me, the key word was played.
The twelfth time I wrote about you, I pretended this was a normal high school crush, not the connection to you sealed with the reddened amber keeping you close to me.

The thirteenth. The thirteenth time I had a dream where I starved you, like my fruitful forgiveness of your sins was the very nectar that fed your body, and I starved you.

The fourteenth you were kind. The only time you were ever kind to me was the fourteenth. This span of time was when I fell back in love with the man who made me forget what it even was, and felt guilt about the thirteenth.

The fifteenth. The fifteenth time I wrote about you was on Easter. I was reborn into a life of loneliness and constantly trying to get you back.
Age Fifteen was when you first hit me but sometimes I still consider fifteen my lucky number.
slam poem
Nov 2014 · 613
Love and Lack There of
I heard the other day that love doesn't exist.
I was livid and spoke sour of their words,
as if 'I love you' was something I usually heard.

I sat in my bed that night
and thought about every 'I love you' I'd been missing

I thought to myself that love couldn't exist
and the last bit of your love was dripping off my skin
and that the last time you said 'I love you' was in pity and for pretend.

I sit in my desk now and write this rant-like piece,
knowing that my legs are sore
from my hips to my knees.

I think to myself that love couldn't exist,
if I cant even love myself enough to protect my own skin.

That if love existed, my heart wouldn't yearn,
even after all the nasty things I heard
that never failed to make me so sure
of the loss I had when I broke your heart.

If love didn't existed I wouldn't feel this burn
Love existed, I just couldn't be yours.
This has been resolved, but I couldn't help but post due to its eloquence.
Nov 2014 · 693
What is 'death'?
The stopping of a heart?
The loss of activity in the brain?
Just the plain disappearance of something?

Or is it the last time someone's name is spoken
from the mouth of their last lover?
Maybe it's the first time their peers
stop noticing the absence of their friend's voice.

Death is defined as:
"The termination of all biological functions that sustain a living organism."

But death is so much more than the biology involved.
It is the end of that person's thoughts, emotions, and doings.
It is the end of every relationship that person has ever had.

Death is the loss of a partner, a friend, or classmate.
It is the absence of a smile, voice, or joke that they always told.

It is a totaled car followed by an officer at the neighbor's house.
It's and old man who brings flowers to the cemetery
on every 3rd Sunday of every month.

It's the feeling you get when you no longer feel like a child
and feel the weight of the earth on your shoulders.

Death, is the loss of a little girls innocence
and the slaughtering of her pride in herself.

It's realizing that the last time you hugged your friend, partner, or mother, that it was the very last time.

Death is not just something that happens and is forgotten about.
It is something that is carried and felt.

It's something that means so much than just the organs, flesh and bones. The word itself strikes fear and discomfort in those around to hear it.

Death, is unavoidable
and whether it happens to you, or those who surround you,
it isn't something you can run from.

If anything, death is something to expect and embrace.
Death can happen at any moment to anyone, anywhere.

Whether it be an accident, a freak mishap, or a purposeful act,
Death is the end of this winding rode we drive on
and our cars are always on 'E'.

Every risky road uses more gas but in turn can help you find more.

But no car can drive forever.
This is an informational piece on my definition of the word 'Death'
Sep 2014 · 452
Faulty Wiring
I just feel empty,
But it's familiar.
I'm the one at fault
Out of your life,

What I would change if I could go back,
A little less lust,
A lot more respect
But there are no more chances
No take-backs.

I'll never forget hearing you cry like that.

I'll never forget the way you you smiled.

I'll never forget you saying you hate me.

You'll move on,
Find someone to love you better,
I want, no, need you to.
One of us needs to make it out alive.
One of us must survive.

We were just caught under bad circumstance
I reassure myself
If it were a few years later
Maybe it would have been better

No promise, unbroken
No lies, spoken
No feelings, hidden
No lives, shaken

But it wasn't a few years later

What we had was now
What we had was broken
What we had was tragic

Under my faulted lips,
I gave into yours.
Under my faulted smile,
I lied about what I did.
Under my faulted hands,
I held you like it would be okay.

Under my faulted heart,
Yours was broken.
Jul 2014 · 637
Accompanying Breaths
Accompanying Breaths

You've long since fallen asleep
but I can't seem to drop the call
Your breaths have remained long and deep
I feel so alone when you aren't here at all.
Your breath keeps my restless mind company
When my greatest enemy is myself.

You've long since fallen asleep
But my mind continues to race
I can't help but imagine our future,
Our lives perfectly in place.
Our bed, bathroom and kitchen decor.
The way every thing you say makes me love you more and more.

I've long since fallen asleep and I know you listened to me breathe,
But did you think about us, did you think about me?
Did you think about laying in our bed,
How I might lay my head?
Do you imagine the things I do,
Like you holding me in the early morning?
Around 1 or 2 when I'm still just as restless,
And my greatest enemy is myself?
Apr 2014 · 1.8k
Whisper to Me, My Dear
You had me watching your mouth verbatim.
The way your lips formed the words I could hardly focus on,
because the corners of your mouth curled in a way I haven't yet seen.
Our adventitious exchanges were works of art,
painted by filthy minds,and fueled by my own flushed face.

murmurer à moi, mon cher

I'm taken aback by your quips,
and how easily they make me want you.
I'd be lying if I said that you saying my name
didn't make me think evocatively,
    of what would happen, were we ever alone.

*murmurer à moi, mon cher
Apr 2014 · 1.3k
Maybe its the way you walk
or the way your eyes make me think.
How you say my name,
or maybe how you make me shake.
I'm not sure how you do it,
but you're on my mind a lot
making me forget my own name,
making me lose my train of thought.

Your lips,
I favor over all the rest
but what I love most of all
is laying on your chest.
Maybe it's the way you make me feel
when all you want is a kiss.

Your kisses devour me and I lose what control I have,
giving myself to you is what my body needs.
And so I plead, and plead, and plead for you to take me,
to make me feel alive again,
to pump life into me over and over
until I am overwhelmed with the serenity of this moment.

Maybe it's when I'm walking there beside you.
Your hand grazing mine,
making sure to bump into you from time to time.
You bump right back and shoot me a grin,
wrap me up in your arms in a hug that never seems to end.
You kiss me over and over on my neck, lips, and chin
until you whisper in my ear
"I don't want this to end."

Maybe it was the way I walked, Or the way I said your name..
Jan 2014 · 1.0k
My Soul Resides
My Soul Resides

In the *
and crannies of passenger seats.
In the books I've read too many times.
In the scent in the air after you left.
In the Pink Floyd t-shirt.
In the links of metal I only have memories of.
In the silver moonlight hitting caramel skin.
In the school books I've scribbled my name in.
In the memories of those I no longer speak to.
In the mind of my parents, who still think I'm their little girl.
In the movie I watch every week.
In the candles I blow out before I sleep.
In the songs I'd keep on repeat for hours.
In the anywhere from 15 to 50 minute showers.
In the nights I stayed up, listening to the rain.
In the days I woke up, feeling a little less sane.
In the summer romances.
In the fact I've never had a slow dance.
In the first good kiss I ever had.
In the scars I harbor, inside and out.
In the last time I felt right.
In the things I fear.
In the way things changed, in just a year.
In the first poems I wrote.
In the first time I could soak up the beach, alone.

This is what I am. This is what made me what- no - who, I am.

*My Soul Resides
Jan 2014 · 750
It's funny.
Fate and coincidence seem to be deciding
how my life is going to be.
But shouldn't that be me?

Fate has plopped my first love in front of me
And gave me the illusion,
that I could kiss the thought of him wanting me.
Coincidence has allowed this to happen,
After I lost everyone I cared for.

So is it just a coincidence that a window opened when 4 doors shut?
Is it fate that this first love might love me just as much?
Are my choices what put me here?
Or was this what would have always appeared?

I wish I could say I knew,
But my choices have yet to skew,
I'm just fighting against the grain
Of this tale of epic loss and small, but important, gain.
My first time writing in... At least a month and a half.
Nov 2013 · 1.3k
habromania (n.) delusions of happiness

You've made me favor the silver moon over any other source of light.
The way it's beams shot across your back
and how it illuminated the greenest eyes.
It's evocative showers of white,
ethereal light coasting upon our lives and erstwhile,
I was thinking about how false this all seemed,
how unreal it had to be.
My joy was brought upon by some mellifluous boy who,
on my bad days I saw as some demon of my life,
and on the good days, my only savior.
Was I- *am I,
truly happy?
Or is this just another lucid dream?

Nov 2013 · 4.7k
Solivagant Traveler
solivagant (adj.) (english) wandering alone

Solivagant Traveler

Lost in a desert where affection is the water
I can't decide if its's been months, or maybe longer,
Since I laid my eyes upon you,
Or the mirage I perceived you to be.
As if you were a cactus who's affection is guarded,
by skin too sharp, and thick to bleed.
Sitting in this plateau surrounded by drier things,
dead plants and dusty bones.
A solivagant traveler is what I'll be.
Nov 2013 · 1.2k
serein (n.) (french) the fine, light rain that falls from a clear sky at
sunset or in the early hours of the night; evening serenity

What I needed most after a long day
Was a calming kiss or a careful goodnight.
But being alone won this round
Not that I even put up a fight.
So I'm accompanied and comforted
By the pitter-patter on my windows at night.
Nov 2013 · 1.4k
Halcyon Fling
How is it that your cigarette kisses
Are the sweetest I've ever had?
I'm always drawn to you.
My cynosure, you are.
Our dalliance is a thing of lust
But your hands' presence won't wash off.

When I brood here in my room,
All I can recall is your becoming face
And the way you lay, oh so comfortably.
Every entrapping thing you do seems so effortless
And I find it difficult to even kiss the thought
Of you having any trouble with eloquence.
Nov 2013 · 559
So it's the darkness that envelops you.
A point where you just want to give up.
Trying to be good to yourself
Is just too hard
You tried and began to fall
No one saved you from falling too far.

Down the hole you fall,
And you feel every hit,
Remember every word that slithered out
Of friendly mouths.
Trying to understand what it all meant

Pictures of people who left
Who cared about you until they
Compared you to what they could have.
You just weren't good enough,
And you knew that from the start
But for some reason
You always let them touch your heart.

You wish they would just understand
That they can't hold your hair,
And then not hold your hand.
But at this point, it's all you have.
Be used, or be alone.
All you want is to stay out
Stay out of the darkness as long as you can.
Oct 2013 · 959
Only You
I took persistent breaths
And waited until your car left
To throw myself onto my bed
And let all the thoughts flow to my head

Do you know what you've done?
Made my lips walk, when my heart wanted to run?
I feel somewhat old, to be acting so young,
As if I'm a child finding a new love

Dear Sir, oh, what you've done to me
Opened my soul and let me breathe
Awakened my mind and let me see
How great being a good little pet could be.

Just know that only your looks make me blush
And only your hands can cause this rush.
Connection is the key to the squirming I do
My hope is you know it only happens with you..
Oct 2013 · 1.3k
Car Windows
What's with these car windows,
Fogging up as you tell me to calm down?
I take deep breaths
And try not to make the sound
That's building up within me
Moans that are far too loud
I'm arching my back
And and squirming around
What's up with these car windows?
Fogging up when you tell me to calm down.
Sep 2013 · 1.1k
Frigid and shaking
It's all I am trying to feel
The hairs standing up on my neck
The shivers is such a thrill

I'm so alone and cold
In this icy shower
Has it been 15 minutes
Or has it been an hour

Take away the warmth of pain
I want to be cold and numb
Take out my beating heart
Make false winter air, fill my lungs.

Cold, shivering, and colorless eyes
The water didn't freeze my thoughts
And I still wondered why
Why I still wanted you so
Even though you so easily let me go

So here I reside, in my ice cold showers
Wasting minutes
Wasting hours
Until I forget
How you made me feel
How you made me think, I might have been real.
Sep 2013 · 933

Like gateways to so many things..

Darker than a night sky, with identical spots of glisten.
The closer they come the more I'd like to listen

To the words that gracefully swim out of your lips
and find their way, not to my brain,
but to my heart
with your quirks and quips.

A warming feeling I had since yet forgotten,
or maybe drained out of myself..
Returns with utmost passion and
I can barely feel anything else.


Like gateways to many things...
Sep 2013 · 723
I dyed my hair again
To forget who I was.
To forget who I was.
When I had
Chestnut locks

I folded your shirt
Put it in a box
Put it in a box
So I could
Lose the memories

I lost myself
In a nightmare
In a nightmare
I had last night
About you

You tore me to pieces
Said "I love you"
"I love you"
But a hand around my neck
I'm gasping for air
"I love you too"
Is what you'd hear.
Aug 2013 · 618
To a Girl
An ode to a girl with the faintest smile,
who could stop me in my tracks even though I try
To keep away from this girl, already taken.
But maybe, for one moment, she'll be mine.
I don't want you,
I want your scent.
I don't dream of your love
I dream this wont become a regret.

A blanket doused in the essence of you.
Smoke, liquor, and the spirit of a teen.
So strange it seems.
How well it made me sleep.

I don't even want you.
I want your lips
I don't ever dream of your hands
Unless they are on my hips.

Two pairs of full lips are better than one.
You pierced me with your eyes
Before I could even **** my gun
What a way to make this game less fun.
Aug 2013 · 761
Best Friends
Once again silver meets skin
Cracks a smile,
Missed it's old friend.
A beautiful reunion,
They want everyone to see
The war raging on inside of me.
Breaking off little pieces of my heart

But who am I to keep best friends apart?
Aug 2013 · 780
Missing Piece
And with each passing day
I miss your structured face,
Steamy eyes,
And your subtle grace.

And with each summer breeze
I miss the way your hand feels
And the way you used to let me trace your palms.
How you used to stare at me
For just a little too long.

Missing you is constant now.
I always wish you were here.
When I miss kissing your cheek
And whispering in your ear.

Nothing is the same.
Not anymore
I wished for one thing,
Just being yours.
Aug 2013 · 656
Untitled #4
Spending your cash 

Buying trends that will pass

S i g h

Is it long enough

To cover your hips and thighs?

W h y

Must my body be riddled with purple lines?

Stripes like the prisoner

C r i m e
Aug 2013 · 687
Story Time
The bags under my eyes
And the weight on my lids
Tell stories about the years I've lived.

How many sleepless nights,
How many times my tear ducts ran dry.
Chilled lips, from incredibly cold sighs.

I've always found it interesting
How with every story,
It's the exact same ending.

With me not being worth anyone's time.
Jul 2013 · 1.1k
Comfy People

Certain people stick
They just do.
Some you want to get rid of
& Some want to get rid of you, too.

The only reason is comfortability.
After so long
It's still so comfortable
No matter what goes wrong.

After every fight
Its all okay.
You just want to kiss,
The perfect apology for everything you say

It's not love
More than lust
Maybe we just care
A bit more than much.
Jul 2013 · 1.2k
Playing with pawns within my head
Didn't you say you liked my game?
Make the first move, go ahead.
You don't really know the rules
But, you wouldn't win anyways.

Welcome to the arena.
Do you think you stand a chance?
You'll still be loading your gun
Whilst I do a victory dance.

You asked for this
This lack of affection
Connected to your *******
And here it is

You assumed I'd be your pawn
When in fact you are mine.
How could I turn down
A man so fine.

Hopefully you don't fall for me,
Because you've already decided
What I was to you.
And I lost all respect.
I am in a black abyss
Lined with the entrails of my victims
Dripping from my mouth
A mix of crimson and *****
What have I become?
Take 12
6 more
What will a couple more do?
Up to 25 
Where am I now?
Sweet bliss
Sweet bliss dripping from my lips
Sweet bliss scarred on my hips 
A night of pain leading up to this
I love you, I do
Didn't you say you loved me too?
Come kiss me my love.
Come kiss this black abyss
Come lick the crimson off my lips.
Jul 2013 · 876
I Can't Help It
I can't help but think
Every time we speak
About the last time I looked up at you
Not wanting to blink.
Who knew how cold you could feel
By a fire on a summer night
Just so you didn't have to pull away
So you could hold his hand so tight.

I can't help but be overwhelmed
With feelings I don't understand
You were the only one content,
With only holding my hand.
A kiss or two here
A hug or a few there
Whenever I needed you
You were always there.

I can't help but question
Your motives and thoughts
But all through the year
I searched for an opening into your heart
And here it might be
A way to ignite an old flame.
Is that what I see
Or are you having a picnic
And I am the rain?
Jul 2013 · 1.1k
Aspiring to be...?
I always wondered what I wanted to do
When I grow up.
What I would expect to be
When I rise early with the sun.

Conflicting mediocre talents
And lack there of
Testing my patience
Leaving me twiddling my thumbs.

To paint
Or sleep
To write
Or weep

Oh, out of all the decisions
I have to make
To decide which path
I want to pave.

Why must I pick a specific
One thing?
Can I just aspire to be
Jul 2013 · 1.0k
A little about me..
A little about me..

Jacquelyn Audrey
Nearly sixteen to others
Nearly nineteen to myself

Afraid of the dark
D e p r e s s i o n

Mezzo soprano to tenor

No impulse control
Worries too much
Cares too little

Likes being alone
But not being lonely

That's all I can really think of.
Jun 2013 · 956
Reoccurring Nightmare
A night terror brought to life.

I fade into a room
I hear the footsteps
I feel my skin

The door is yanked and left agape
I'm blinded by the light
He grabs me and I know there is no escape.

Suddenly he's in me, and I'm left voiceless
He says to open my eyes and I protest
A hard pound into my *** and a smack later
My eyes are open staring into a mirror

I look away and am yanked back
Forced to watch myself be treated like meat
He pounds away, a disgusting rhythm
As tear roll down my face, in defeat

Once he's finished he drops me to the floor
I sit like I'm supposed to,
Sitting on my knees, bowed and waiting for more.

He's back and I'm up in his arms
Holding my mine at my sides he whispers and nibbles at my shoulder
Telling me I'm his, that I'm so strong.
I fight to get away, he's so wrong.

He says he's sick of these games and straightens my face
Forces me to stare at my naked, bruised body
In the mirror that I can't take
I cry, and I cry

"Your mine"
A quick slap to the *** and I'm dropped again, to the floor.
Please note that this was a NIGHTMARE so it is not the exact real life account of what happened. Some parts are metaphors of how I was feeling at this time in my life. Thank you for reading.
Jun 2013 · 684
From my pink lips
And ample *******
To my cold heart,
Warmed by your hands.
I'd paint your name on every inch of my body
Until you believe
That it is you,
Who owns me.

I dream of your touch
Your strong hand's caress
Slowly moving,
Kissing down my chest
Watching me take shallow breaths

Your kisses on my petals
Sending me into ecstasy
Whirling out of control
"Don't stop!"

Out of breath I lay
Your kisses to my thighs
Showing your want to play
Gesturing you to come up to me
I put my hands upon your cheeks
"Kiss me."

Tongues intertwine
A fleshy tango of carnal passion.
Your *** pressed against mine
A kiss out of this world.
Jun 2013 · 2.3k
I still remember the first time
He let me bite his lips.
He nodded sincerely at my smile
And pulled in on my hips.
We stayed there for quite a while,
My eyes examining His.

We kissed and kissed,
And every second I miss
The sweet taste that our tongues left on lips.

Days like that
Quickly passed
No longer was I allowed to have any class.
From this day forward, a piece of ***.

I remember the last time I bit his lips
I received my punishment
Hard and swift.
His smirk was dark
My face was flushed

"I like this red better than when you blush.."
Funny, how you can base a whole poem, off a single quote..
Jun 2013 · 635
The way they talk about her freckles and rosé skin.
Wondering who messed up her head, who wore her so thin.
Who was it?
Who had been?
She's not been herself since then.
Jun 2013 · 1.6k
A Writer's Affection.
Like no other, it cares
Not always seen, but always there.
Complimenting words as if they were looks,
Such a great way with words, they belong in books.
Expressing their love and woe,
Though often cursed by crows.

A thousand miles or a couple feet
Something great happens when two writers meet.
They talk and talk, pretending they don't know
The secrets that their stories both told.
As they speak, they are mesmerized by how words dance out
Of each others soft spoken, but sometimes harshly written, mouths.

They hope they can memorize how words were said,
So that they could recite each others poems in their own head.
A writer's affection is like no other
And one complex talent, keeps it all together.
It will write you letters, and cause a drumming chest.
Take your breath away, and rid you of a mind's mess.

A letter for him, a letter for her.
A Writer's Affection,
a blessing and more.
Inspired by.. Some silly French dude (:
Jun 2013 · 910
Used Girl
"Tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much, that he died every night to let her breathe."

How interesting that story is.
Though I don't really know
If the plot Is realistic enough
To pertain to my
Plain life.

But I can tell you a tale
Of a damsel in distress
Waking up groggy
Looking for her dress.
Glancing at her greasy hair
In a mirror that had a tendency to stare.

A story of a girl who died everyday
Waiting for a kiss to bring her alive.
A kiss that happened a few times and some
But she'd still go home and cry
When she would again, feel numb.

She doesn't remember a time
When she wasn't a piece of meat.
A time when she could talk to a guy
And not expect it to end in
Who will go down when they meet.

She is so used and doesn't have the strength
To say no anymore, or make them wait.
She's waiting now for someone new to come around
And take her breath away.
With big hands and a pair of lips
That kiss her in just that way.
Jun 2013 · 2.0k
Doll Face
I get dolled up
For no good reason.
Hair and makeup
It's that season.

To get dolled up
With no where to go.
No one wants to party or hang out.
So I'm stuck, dolled up, alone.

What a doll face I have
So pale with light freckling.
Pursed lips, pink tint
Bright eyes, sparkling.

A cute curvy doll.
With dark chestnut above
Graced with a pretty face
That no one will love
Jun 2013 · 645
Love isn't Blind
Love isn't blind.

What else am I to I conclude,
When all the guys are crude?

They say looks don't matter
As long as no one knows.
It looked nice in the beginning
Pretty paper and bows
Folded around a barren cage

But inside this cage,
This package of "love"
Is a flood of pain,
Someone he is ashamed of.

Love isn't blind
He can see perfectly fine.
He had promised in time,
That she could call him 'mine.'

Oh but what a nightmare is was
When she begged for love
Oh but what a joke it was
To see what he had done.

Love isn't blind
Or patient, or kind.
But love is definitely losing your mind.
An ode to the girls who have been through this kind of relationship. You are beautiful, no matter what anyone says. If they will kiss you in private, they can be man enough to be proud of the beautiful woman they have in their arms.
May 2013 · 1.7k
If you were a painting,
You would take my breath away.
If you were a song,
You'd make hips sway.
Like the way the wind blows through my hair
And I hope and wish that maybe sometimes you stare.

I swore I had no emotion,
Until I fell for you.
I tried to stop this notion,
But there was no use.
You took my breath away,
Made my hips sway,
Twirl my hair, and hope you stare.

What is this emotion?
So strange it seems
To get butterflies
Even after the million and one times
You've looked at me.

It's still a lost cause
Wishing for your love
But I can still dream
For cold nights,
And a man's lips speaking words so sweet.
My original muse. Oh, how I care for him.
May 2013 · 845
Haunting Words
Those haunting words,
Strangled me.
My world was torn,
Put to sleep.

Three words,
That mean so much.
The last thing we had,
That wasn't touch.

Spoke unto me,
Your words cut like a familiar steel.
And you couldn't help but see,
What pain was all too real.

For you,
Those words had set you free.
And I suppose
That's what I should be.

But those words you see,
Made my skin scream
And wish for better days.
Layers upon layers of fake love,
Fused with lust and hate.

And so those words that trickled out
Of your sweet, kind, unforgiving mouth
"I release you." You spoke
Without thought or doubt.

I ceased to be,
Yielded life.
Those Haunting Words
Fueled my knife.
May 2013 · 1.0k
Untitled #3
Even though we no longer speak
Your expectations are what I try to meet.

I hope you like my long hair,
Even though I want it cut.
I sometimes see you stare.
I want to kiss you but,
The bad times were too many.
The consequences could be

Oh my boy,
I miss you.
I miss you smirking at me.
****, I miss you looking at me,
And not looking sad.
I miss when you would play mad,
Just to see my pouty face,
When you would kiss me with force,
Just to put me in my place.

Oh my boy,
I miss you.
And your
What a hard habit to break..
May 2013 · 866
I Hate...
I hate myself

I hate my fat arms
I hate my top teeth
I hate my forehead
And I hate how the top of my thighs have that bulge on them.
I hate my shoulders
I hate my toes
And I hate my sausage fingers.
I hate how my torso isn't symmetrical
How the fat is different on each side.
I hate my ****.
I hate my always irritated scalp.
I hate that I can't lose weight
I hate that I don't have the money for braces
I hate that I am the ugly friend.
The one who never has a boyfriend, but everyone else does.
I hate being lonely
I hate being ****** up
I hate being a mediocre student
And an average talent.
I hate my voice

I hate myself.
I hate it.
I've ******,
My friends make love

What about me
Attracts boys
Who only ****?

I've never made love.
Is it just bad luck?

What about me
Attracts boys
Who don't love?

I just want to have
A natural relationship
Not a business deal,
Where I'd use my body,
To buy love that isn't quite real.

Just someone care.
Just someone see.
I am not just a piece of meat.
I need warm arms around me,
And words so sweet.

Where are you
Who can stand loving me?
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