Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Pretty bows
and promise rings
flowing dresses
and little things

Wooden boxes
with sweet designs
Pinky promises
and white lies

Sweeping poetry
by John Green
Harsh Winters
and Autumn leaves

Indie rock
Coco pops
Window sills
Movie stills

Fluffy bears
Comfy chairs
Sepia tone
Empty zones

Pouring rain
Dancing trains
Coffee stains
and bloodless veins

Little things
Sweet things
that make me happy
the way I used to be
 Aug 2013 James Gerard
Emily
Her
 Aug 2013 James Gerard
Emily
Her
I get so happy when she comes back to me
She makes me feel like a god
Like I'm the only thing in her life
That makes the sadness gone

She confesses her love to me and I melt
I can't believe she hid all these feelings she felt
She needs to practice on her expression
I think she's finally learned her lesson

Just when I think I can't take anymore
She acts and speaks in her perfect way
And so eloquently tells me
That she wants me to stay

Stay by her side and hold her close
Sleep with her at night
When she feels most alone
Let her know that she's alright
And that all this time my love's only grown

I love her so much
I don't know what to do
Since her, something's come over me
I don't even think clearly
She's all I want and all I need
Our souls are one and now we're both freed
© Peyton 2013
Anxiety reverberates through my body. My chest becomes so heavy that it feels as if a cinderblock has been lied down on it. All of my body's involuntary functions pause to listen to the demons that live in the back of my head. The demons announce to my anatomy that I have no worth, no value. The demons mock my lungs, "Why work so hard to keep her breathing when nobody on earth wants her alive." My body receives the criticisms and obeys the demon's demands. My lungs quit. I cannot breath. My mouth quits. I cannot speak, the only sounds escaping are soft screams. My ears quit. I hear nothing, besides the demons. My stomach quits. It tries to commit suicide by consuming itself causing me to curl into a ball in severe agony. My eyes try to fight off the negativity. They push the negativity out through tears, but it isn't enough. They look myself over in the mirror, trying to find some value. My eyes explore my entire body, searching desperately for something beautiful, something worth fighting for. They find nothing, but disappointment. My hands fight too. They find a blade and slide it across my wrist, a demon escapes me through the tear in my skin. My body feels a slight relief, but soon a different demon rekindles my self disgust. I let the blade dance across my body, over and over again, feeling slight relief each time. Eventually my entire body is bleeding and I am still only slighting relieved of my pain. My eyes work with my hands on the search to find a place to help the demons to escape. There is no place on my body left, that I could use to release my demons. My crying has stopped and enough demons have left my system to breath comfortably. I put the blade away, and slip into bed, my entire body aching. The physical pain is much easier to handle than the physical and emotional torture the demons would have caused. I lay in bed, trying to be as still as possible to avoid agitating my wounds. I cry to myself silently, because I know I'm going to have to rip myself open again tomorrow night. I feel numb enough to eventually to fall into a slumber. Will I spend the rest of my life rereleasing the same demons over and over again, just to feel unsatisfied and numb? Are my demons right? Is my life worthless? Especially considering I'm at my best either when I'm unconscious or when I'm numb? I am so tired of being numb. Agonizing numbness.
They told me I was gonna be
A big Star
They said that with a face like mine
I could get what I wanted
I wanted to go far
I wanted everyone to know my name

I started out as a model
But when people learned I could read
They put me in front of a different camera
It was all the same to me
Pose here
Say a line or two there
It came easily to me

Women wanted me
Men wanted to be me
Everyone idolized me
Perfect Teeth
Perfect Eyes
Perfect Hair
Perfect Tan
Perfect Body
I was the total package

But when you're the total package
They don't tell you how lonely it is
In the spotlight
At first it didn't bother me
I thought
Who needs friends when I could have
Fans

It was all fun and games
Until my fifteen minutes were up
You can't be the young new face forever
I've realized the hard way that
All fame does is
Chew you up
Bleed you dry
And Spit you out
You don't get any say in the matter

I still get recognized here and there
By people like you of course
Would you like a picture?
An autograph?
No?
Ok, thats fine
How about I start you all off with some drinks?
I bathed in a steam shower, I still feel impure.
Hello Poetry,
Why are you not stopping prose
running rampant here?
Next page