Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Why can't you want me like the other boys do?
They stare at me while I stare at you.

Why can't I keep you safe as my own
One moment I have you-
the next you're gone.

We have steps on an empty stage
That boy's got my heart in a silver cage.

Why can't you want me like the other boys do?
They stare at me while I-
Crave You.


It's true.
                  I crave You.


Around his little finger
that boy has got me curled.

I tried to reach out but he's in
his own world.

This boy has got my head tied in knots
with all his games.

I simply want him more because he looks the other way...


Why can't you want me
like the other boys do?

They stare at me while I-
                                                             *Crave you
This song symbolizes my exact feelings right now.
(Flight Facilities)
 Aug 2014 Jeremy Duff
Hannah f
I wish humans could see
we're meant to be free
Only some understand
Most are asleep
We are meant to be
up in the trees
or running through fields
and jumping in leaves
It's make believe
what we've come
to believe
And it's sad to see
From up in my tree
let's be free and grow veggies.
 Aug 2014 Jeremy Duff
Aoife Teese
it's easy to miss you
because my arms feel so empty
when you're not in them
and there's nothing here
for them to hold
that's nearly as grand as you
Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky!
Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound?
Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye
Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground?
Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will,
Those quivering wings composed, that music still!

Leave to the nightingale her shady wood;
A privacy of glorious light is thine;
Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood
Of harmony, with instinct more divine;
Type of the wise who soar, but never roam;
True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!
There is a certain fluency in the way they carry
their role play in a bedroom.
And it is not when he says
"I adore you" that makes her
tremble, it is not the type of flowers that
he throws on the bed that makes her mouth
shiver.
Though it is most certainly the exact way
his eyes turn a bit towards her shivering mouth
when he says he ******* adores her,
and it is the smell of the flowers
that he throws on the bed that makes
her tremble.
Love made into a love unheard is
when he has not to speak what she already
must know, but show what she must
need to see, touch, feel, to
say everything that must need to be said
when saying
"I love you"

**On this little bedroom floor,
in the creaks inside the bed springs,
in the spinal chord of her body
has he found the best ways
to tell her.
 Aug 2014 Jeremy Duff
Chloe
His dilated pupils
wide and dark as they were
brought to mind black holes.
Their pull was irresistible
its gravity already
enveloping my mass.
Leaning forward as if
to add me to him
I cautiously peered
over the lip in his eyelids
to the tunnels of a man-made abyss.
For a minute I stared
legs dangling, fingers tangling
the sheets on his bed
thinking about choices and paths
and set destinations.

A line of white sand points at me.
Arranged just so upon the glass shelf.
I roll and unroll the twenty
into then out of a tube absently;
contemplating the barrier I knew
would shatter into nothingness
if the sand was inhaled backwards
like it could rewind time.
But I wanted black holes
in my eyes to explore
the vastness of it all.

Time rewinds, short circuits, and I’m here
in the cutting clarity of awake.
It feels good.
A lightning storm of sparks
crackling against my neurons.
It feels real good.

Licking my finger I trap the
white substance between
the ridges on my fingerprint
and scrub at my gums
enjoying this new-found better.

Throughout the night I
gouge tally marks of coke
into the walls of my nostril
and douse my liver
with shots of Tequila
getting increasingly more lost
in the eyes of my reflection.
Next page