Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Johnnie Rae Oct 2016
If this is reality i don't wanna be a part anymore;

take me to a place where bones don't rattle
like tin cups against prison cell doors when you're alone
on your sofa questioning when the right time is to end it all.
A place where teeth don't grind like subway car
wheels when coming to a sudden stop.
My anxiety is swallowing me like a storm out at sea,
the saddest part is I'm letting it,
submitting to it's foul tongue like it will feed
instead of eat away at me until I'm rail thin
and no longer have the desire to eat,
because, why beat a dead horse?

Every coping mechanism I've created over the years
fails to keep my breathing even now,
my reflection screams failure and busy streets
look like exit signs. I don't want to live like this.
Getting high just to get by isn't cutting it anymore.
I keep trying to tell myself I'll be okay,
but the silver slivers and dashing headlights
are so enticing I don't know how long I'll last.
Johnnie Rae Oct 2016
I. Your touch is like bones breaking; unforgettable, and breathtaking.
   I know that normally people don't associate love with broken bones
  but even when you cause me pain, I am still so effortlessly in love.

II. On the day that you made me yours,
     you rekindled a fire in me that I thought
    had long since died.

III. And in those eyes that resemble speckled emeralds,
      I see a future brighter than I could have made for myself.
     The feeling is treacherous, to love someone more than yourself.

IV. The thought of you lingers in my bone marrow,
      and it doesn't leave, not even in sleep,  
      you live within my bloodstream.

V. You ignite a fire inside me,
     hotter than I knew was possible in relative existence,
    and every day I burn for you, slow and consistent.

VI. Sometimes I wish you would strip me down
      and love me like a limited resource,
      like I'm a priceless medal, or gem of iridescent hue.

VII. You're the type of guy that gets me to put my phone down
        and that's an accomplishment in itself.
        you're more interesting than the internet, and that's romanticism.

VIII. Your kiss is like electricity, but instead of electrocution,
         you send shivers down my spine,
        and put the sparkle in my eyes.

IX. They say that home is where the heart is,
      and before I met you, I'd never been home before,
      you are my home.

X. I've run out of words to tell you how much I love you
    so now my next mission is to transcribe a new language,
    to do just that.
Johnnie Rae Jul 2016
It's funny, how we make it our life's work
to knock down trees, but still, all we see is green.
The American dream just isn't what it used to be.
The bible says love thy brother, and I'm not trying to preach
but it seems like all we care about is cashing checks
and making bread; gotta climb higher up that ladder.
Materialistic and sadistic;
it's ridiculous how much money is spent
on things we just don't need.
We've become less about helping others,
less thoughtful in general, more self centered.  

Sad to see homelessness running ramped through our streets,
but we can't spare a cent because we're more interested
in feeding our own unnecessary habits, or just
keeping the cash in our pockets
instead of giving to someone who truly needs.
we've become corrupted by our own dreams.

Get an education, go to college, they say,
but when it comes time to pay
they can't help you, so you sacrifice an arm and a leg
break the bank and your own back
for a piece of paper that won't really help you get a job anyway.
and I'm not saying don't invest in your own future, I'm just sayin
work to help others along the way.
Why not work to change, rearrange, make tomorrow a better day,
if not for ourselves then for the next ones to come around

are you picking up what i'm putting down?
because it doesn't seem all too complex to me,
live simpler, stop worrying about getting
a bigger bang for your buck  and help a brother out.
So caught up in getting rich quick we turn a blind eye
to the guy that doesn't have a dollar to begin with.
They say you gotta spend money to make it,
so pay it forward, instead of hoarding for your own benefit.

We've got politicians lying through perfect teeth,
but how did they get them so white and clean?
You guessed it, your tax money,
and now we're following in their footsteps,
led like sheep, buying things just because
we were told to by an ad on the TV,
and calling it freedom.

We're becoming exactly what we said we'd never be
and I don't think I could make it any easier to see,
can't rhyme my way through all the idiocy.
We strive to be more everyday, its the american way,
but for every step we take in the right direction
we're skewed off course by another unreliable source,
they say the illuminati's just a conspiracy theory,
but look try and look past what they want you to see.
We're puppets, dangling on the strings we chose to sew
through our own skin,
because we'd thought it would take us higher
than hard work and dedication.
21st century, and still living in a world where people
have the color of their skin held against them,
still living in a world where love is believed to be gender-specific,
but we're not prejudiced. We're not biased.
Won't admit we've got our heads in our *****.

I mean, come on. I know it's hard to admit when wrong,
but it's about **** time we wise up, isn't it?
About time to open the eyes that have been
glued shut by our oppressors
and see that we're an abomination in the making,
we should have been raised to do more giving than taking,
but somewhere along the line the script was flipped
and now those with good hearts are made a mockery of
for having a different perspective.

We've gone from land of the free, to a place I don't wanna be,
and so far, we aren't doing too much to change it.
Johnnie Rae Jul 2016
Sometimes I drag you down.

Can't handle it when you go out
because your freedom unintentionally mocks
my caged-in state, clanks a mug against the bars
of my prison. I didn't pick this.

Didn't pick an age that came with limitations,
but I guess I'm stuck with it
and **** you're stuck with me,
stuck with my shaky words that come from
shakier hands. Stuck with breathy phone calls
when I'm sad and don't have the heart to tell
you that no one actually has the power to fix it.

Stuck with these eyes that imitate thunderstorms when I'm being just
a tad bit melodramatic.
What do thunderstorms look like
through those kaleidoscope eyes of yours?
I bet they look like depression in a bottle,
ready to be forced down like shots of anything
that'll make me forget.
I'm beginning to understand why people
become alcoholics and that's terrifying.

You're stuck with everything I've ever been
and everything I'll ever be. Truth is I've ruined
every good time you've tried to have since you
got together with me. And I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for being a buzzkill. I'm sorry for worrying. I'm sorry for wishing I could just go with you and I'm sorry I can't.

You swear my age doesn't bother you but I'm
afraid sooner or later it might begin to.
Your age means freedom, mine means
nine o'clock curfew on school nights
and eleven o'clock ******* bedtime.

I'm an adult in a child's body. Betrayed by the number of years I've been alive.
Johnnie Rae May 2016
Have you ever had so much to say, but no way to say it?
Every answer you've sought to find is true and tried but still,
to no avail, you're tongue tied.
Like the words behind your lips are in knots
and they're not as simple to detangle as earbuds,
(ha, what a laugh, even that is like rocket science)
Do you see the point I'm making?
It's like your own thoughts are encrypted
and you're forced to try and crack the code.
Like you've just self medicated with poison, and now,
you're trying to create the antidote
with shaky hands and eyes blinded by confusion.
It's like walking down the street with your shoelaces tied together
or sitting on a not so metaphorical bed of nails
Difficult, to say the least,
hell, even painstaking,
to want to scream every word at the top of your lungs,
but have no words to produce.
betrayed by your vocal chords, you're left mute,
and feeling stupid.
To have such a valid point but no way to make yourself understood,
It's like putting together a puzzle without finding the corners first.
Do you ever have something to say, but no way to say it? because I sure as hell do.
Johnnie Rae Apr 2016
I want to write you a trilogy on the stages
in which our relationship formed.
The first book would be solely based on the day
that I stopped treating your text messages
like active landmines. Stopped tiptoeing.
No longer being afraid of what your affection
would do to me once I submit to it.
It would be based on the first step I took to
stop being so **** afraid. From that very day
you've helped me in ways I'll never be able to fully explain.
Helped me let go of fear and trepidation, and open
my heart to the greatest thing in the world; your love.

The second would revolve around the first time you kissed me.
I don't know if you noticed, but my knees buckled
like seatbelts and I shook like glass window panes in torrential rain.
That day you awoke something inside me that I didn't know existed
but I'm so glad you found it. Like a stray kitten I was lost
and you brought me back home without questioning where I'd been,
and I'll never fully understand why, but I guess it doesn't matter.
You've taught me not to overthink things, to just revel in the moment.

The third would be set in here and now. Every forehead kiss
and stolen glance sums up to another page, every loving gesture
is another chapter. We are creating something people wish they
could create for themselves. A love that belongs in museums
to teach the world what it really means to give yourself to someone,
with no fear, and not a single ounce of regret.  To say that you changed
my life is an understatement. You altered my way of thinking.
Took a broken thing and made it new again. Made me, new again.

And with every word that slips from your lips I am reborn.
Johnnie Rae Apr 2016
i.  I love you like the sea loves the shoreline; forever coming back for more, and there aren't enough words in the english language to accurately describe what it feels like when you run your hand up my thigh or trace my shoulder blades with the tips of your fingers.  There aren't enough syllables to string together for me to tell you just how much you mean to me. You've become my reason to wake up in the morning.

ii. You are intoxicating. There's no drug out there with a higher potency than your love. I'm afraid I've become a ******, I now need you to survive.

iii. To hear you speak is to feel alive.

iv. I'd give my life to see you smile. Or to save yours.

v. *I can no longer picture an existence without you.
Next page