Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
MacKenzie Warren Aug 2018
four walls surround me
my things rest on shelves
and within dresser drawers
my name is etched into the pillows
claw marks on the mattress
clothing littering the floor
specks of my dna live here
it’s been
398 days
10 hours
42 minutes
and 36 seconds
since i unpacked
and still it doesn’t feel like home
my things surrounding me
but they don’t feel like mine
the walls sigh my name
but it doesn’t sound like my name
i am a stranger in this place
a place that is supposed to feel safe
a place where i am supposed to live freely
happily
i long so desperately for a space
where i don’t solely reside within my bedroom
trapped in the confines of my bed
a space where i don’t step quietly
not wanting too much of me to be seen
a space where i can sing and dance freely
where i can etch my truth into the walls
and talk to the skeletons in my closet
a space where i don’t feel my breath is limited
careful you don’t say the wrong thing
because the walls may collapse
because the streets may become all you know
i just want a space of my own
a space where the walls sigh my name
and i can say “yes baby, i’m home”
MacKenzie Warren Aug 2018
your heart is as dark as the color of your eyes
a black hole hidden within a person
sending lovers tumbling and tumbling
constantly falling
but never reaching an end
never reaching security
the toxicity of your love is tragic
and yet you do not know it
ink seeping from your teeth
poison words
lethal lullabies
a siren singing her seductive song
she paints herself a pretty picture
luring you into the vortex of her heart
a black-eyed beauty
waiting for her chance to shatter you
to make you fall
like stars from the night sky
MacKenzie Warren Aug 2018
vengeful is she
who had her heart broken
who heard your lies softly spoken
vengeful is she
whose eyes are locked on your gaze
who has ink dripping from her teeth
for poetry is her weapon
and that swollen tongue of yours
is just another page in her journal
for every lie told
she carves a truth into the back of your throat
cramming each page further and further
until you choke on your lies
until you swallow your truths whole
MacKenzie Warren Aug 2018
i would love to meet the girl
whose hands you worship
even after they broke you
cracking you into two
leaving you black and blue
the girl whose name
didn’t leave your tongue for weeks
mumbling it in your sleep
everlasting in the diary of your mind
oh how beautiful she must have been
to have you praising her
as if she were a god
sitting on your knees
worshipping her at her feet
even after she broke your heart in two
and oh how i wish i could meet her
to finally see the hands you craved
the one’s in which you loved to fall apart
MacKenzie Warren Jul 2018
i am chipped nail polish
and shaky hands
i am a yellow marker ran over black ink
a little tainted, but still lively
i am both the highest point on a mountain
and buried deep in the depths of the ocean
i am my own ocean
feeling the slightest ripple
every breath taken
every noise made
creating tidal waves out of nothing
i am a warrior
one who couldn’t hurt a fly
but battles depression within the night
and is constantly fighting anxiety hands on
i am meant to wander
bare feet on freshly cut grass
wildflowers scattered through a field
driving with the windows down
i don’t belong
my blue eyes are stuck on the sky
wondering what its like to be cool
to not constantly stumble over simple words
to have people be curious
about the words slipping through my teeth
to be desirable
what one’s looking for
to not be looked at weirdly for getting excited over
everything
poetry, art, daydreams, cute girls and cute boys
you see, i am simpler times
unsure times, messy times, good times
i am a part of time
and yet, i am afraid of being forgotten
fearful that people who meant most to me
won’t remember the colors of my eyes
or the vision i had for my life
my words meaning nothing
i just want to be a part of something
i am a part of something
a small speck among the sea of stars
i am there and i am shining
i am slowly leaving my mark
i am more than i give myself credit for
i am me, i am special
i am fuzzy blankets and daydreams
i am nightmares and tired eyes
i am everything and nothing all at once
i am me
a mess of a girl with eyes far too wide
trusting too much and saying too little
and above all else
i am loved
MacKenzie Warren Jul 2018
leaving doesn’t mean i didn’t care
or that i no longer liked the taste
of your lips pressed deeply against mine
leaving doesn’t mean i didn’t love you
it doesn’t take away the meaning
of words spoke
of feelings felt
leaving just meant i couldn’t keep
loving
you
for it was bad for my health
leaving, leaving, leaving
the most popular word in my vocabulary
a topic flooding my mind for months
repeating, repeating, repeating
make it stop

leaving looked like
a strict diet of fingernails
and bones crushed into salt
it was swallowing chalk dust to begin the day
shoving shards of glass into the scars of my heart
trying to get my feelings to change
*** and *** and *** and ***
maybe it would awaken the part of me that still loved you
it was ripping myself from the comfort of my own home
standing alone in the woods
it was being afraid of the dark
and nightmares upon nightmares upon nightmares
it was swallowing my own heart
but leaving you..
it lead to a fresh start
MacKenzie Warren Jul 2018
this is a letter to all of those
who stumbled upon my dull eyes
and poetic words

i apologize to those who participated in
whispered i love you's and dreams shared
for watching from afar as your cared for me
a half of a whole

you held my body, empty
my soul scooped out of myself
like an acorn squash during winter months
nothing left but the skin
and my soul out among the wildflowers
searching for the missing parts of me
searching for my home

i placed my body in your hands
letting you sip the wine that made up me
drizzling you in honey, in sweetness, and in light
for i knew you would protect me
scrawling poetry into the broken bits
the unfiltered bits
you would cause me to feel something on cold winter nights

i am sorry that when my soul stumbled home
bringing home the bits that were missing
that you were left alone
standing in the dark under streetlights
unsure of where you went wrong
broken promises and dreams in your hands
drowning in your own love
suffocating on your sunshine
cursing yourself for loving too hard

i am sorry for hurting you
but thank you for loving me
even when i left you lonely
when i was in the second darkest part of my life, i hurt a few people pretty badly within a few months time period, and for a long time i let it eat at me for letting my hurt turn me into such a mess and take my pain out onto other people and i will never allow myself to be that person again. it wasn't until roughly this time last year probably that i got my **** together and moved on from the hurt i caused. what i did was ugly, and i know it. poetry doesn't make it beautiful.
Next page