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1.7k · Feb 2015
Worn, attitude torn
Jonathan Howard Feb 2015
Have you grown tired of being worn?
Hung loosely without care,
I apologize for ignoring the wrinkles
on your torso like a frown forming
across the lips, neglected in ignorance
like the iron trying to iron, not on.
Do you like being worn, sweater?
the coat hanger, your straight jacket,
restraining movement, limiting use
Because your attitude tore holes in seams
disappointing my skin, breaking the warm,
Allowing the cold to break the stitches,
Slowly unraveling, but you're still here,
In the back, pondering usefulness, sweater.
I don't know if I'll see you again,
But the moth ***** are collected memories,
Patching up holes, to make you whole.
1.6k · Feb 2015
Cozy
Jonathan Howard Feb 2015
The amber bottle rested on the cozy
while you tossed back *****. Crackling
over ice, popping to the warm quake
tumbling down your throat. Voices
to the right bounced, shot *****
into pockets, towards the corner
sulking after being hit. You've sipped
your dignity, having an allergic reaction,
your eyes cursed, blood stained
glasses diced palms, attached
with glass in hope of feeling numb.
1.4k · Feb 2015
Can you trust me?
Jonathan Howard Feb 2015
They've become a rainforest.
your eyes drip off of leaves,  
pouring from tips of branches-
scrunched in, your shoulders
dictate stories of pain,
with knees curled in, knuckles
white, clenched and sweaty,
whimpers escape lips,  
reliving memories:
mother stalking closets,
slamming doors,
stomping steps,
shouting obscenities but-
The belt is put away,
rib cages no longer bruised,
all left behind.
Take a step;
Take a breath;
Let me in.
940 · Feb 2015
Aloe
Jonathan Howard Feb 2015
Remind me
again
when the
funeral is.
My suit
needs
to be
dry cleaned
to abolish
moth *****.
Also,
mother gave
up and
drowned
in tissues
lined with
aloe. Thats
all I can
smell above
her coffin.
741 · Feb 2015
Imagination
Jonathan Howard Feb 2015
I forgot to bring paper;
on set there was a broken pen.
When words spill from mouth to page,
magic begins to transcend.
730 · Feb 2015
Scorched
Jonathan Howard Feb 2015
Why did you burn me, Fire? Constantly
screaming, jagged in breath, while desperate
for attention-- Where's your dignity?
You've been asking for attention, reaching
for our hands, snapping towards scorched
palms you bubbled, inflated with infection.
I flinch when you spark back to creation.
You've cracked within pressure, Fire,
molten at the core, insensitively lost,
but you, Fire, you lost yourself within
heated monetary discussions--
You seek for growth, demolishing
the path you take.  I can only blame
myself though, Fire. I'm the one who
encouraged, blew on your embers,
empowering your ideals, starting rampages
that engulfed forests and plains. Leaves
dared to love you, now burnt--
You've lost yourself, Fire. Will you
ever let your guard down again?
616 · Feb 2015
Forgotten in Time
Jonathan Howard Feb 2015
Leaking down the side,
buildings melt
inside walls.
Mocking  drug
induced families
under ceilings
among red,
glazed eyes.
Kites fly,
and green grass snaps
under a stiff
shoe.

Sewage
creeps from beneath
the field where kids play.
Geese, in V formation.
Leaves drift to the
yellow grass. Souls
forsaken by time.

Fenced in field
Surrounded by brick
rising, expanding
into the past
thirty years.
The building is leaking
and still
rising.
396 · Feb 2015
Untitled
Jonathan Howard Feb 2015
I showered last night, wiping away
What you encouraged me to do.
Did you forget? I didn't want to go.
Sweatpants rolled up to my knees,
hair flat, cuffs rolled up to my elbows.

The snow beneath my feet crunched
while I texted you. Each word filled
me with reject, each step wanted to pivot
and escape the man down the hill.
But, you said it would be good for me.

On the contrary, this tore you apart,
my love. I babysat the intoxicated man
that offered me wine, his shrill of a voice
split open my skull, quaked my brain
and stabbed my frontal lobe, unaware.

His height represented my will and want
to walk this distance and meet him:
short, and a disappointing impression.
But I can't get through my mind, why,
why we would think we could want this.

I blame myself, the want for more, drinking
intoxicating flirtation that drives us all,
to jump, to want more, but that thrill
poisons the mind to crave for attention,
immediate love we need to find in ourselves.

I can't tell you the dreams I've had, for fear
you might sprint, at Olympic speed,
onto another life, another man while I
wait, wait for you to return to my arms,
because our future is a proposal.

You, down on one knee, flooding my eyes,
rushing down cheeks as we say "I do!"
386 · Feb 2015
Untitled
Jonathan Howard Feb 2015
I love you.
You make me become cotton, above
the wind, effortlessly gliding upon
rolling meadows of marigolds.

Wait

You're the cold snap before the morning
sun, always biting and freezing
loose particles of moisture in the air.

No, wait

You've brought my senses back, like rewiring
a lamp and giving it a fresh bulb, illuminating
the surrounding shadows with a smirk, smile.

Actually, wait.

You've made my mind out of confusion,
changing the pace, lying on high tide
forgetting the time we've spent out at sea.

Please wait,

I've just wanted to hang on, I miss feeling
like I'm whole again around the puzzle piece
that caught my attention. Love and wait

For me.

— The End —