Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
75%
And what if I told you,

words heavy in my throat

thoughts non-stop speeding

through the racetrack in my mind 
heart hanging out to dry

at the end of my sleeve,

that to lose you 

would cause the

75% of water in my body
to drown me
If I had seen it coming I wouldn’t have cried so
much I might’ve been more prepared
as if I could pack a survival kit
for months of recovery.

But instead there were no warning signs

nothing to give me a clue

for when you would crush me hard
between your fists,

ugly, and ******, broken on your floor.

I had seen it coming I could have forgiven you
as I grew smaller, held your hand,

said I love you more than you’ll ever know.
But it was sudden

overnight within seconds you left me, an old glove
fallen out of your warm coat pocket
into a puddle, too old and used up to save.
Inspired by Nick Flynn
i want to be pretty and i want to be vivacious and i want to wear ripped jeans and i want to have smooth skin and i want to be shorter and i want to have cheekbones so jutted i could slit throats and i want to dye my hair blue and i want to color my irises green and i want to stain walls with sadness and love and heartbreak and ruin them with holes and break my hands so i can feel my bones crack so i can feel something and be pushed up against them at 3 in the morning with a boy with his hands so tight around me and my legs so tight around him i feel ******* weightless and i want to watch the blood run from my wrists and thighs again and i want to say im sorry and i want to be confident and i want boys and even girls to love me and i want to stop hating myself and i want to stop ruining people's lives because i cant express myself and i want to write novels about strangers who wonder about the universe and why they matter in this insignificant world when nothing matters at all with coffee and paint stained canvases and i want to love someone and i want to grow up and i want to find myself and i want to know
who
i
am
and,

god.  

*i want to live
i am so, so lost.
i do not sleep,

though i weep.
im sorry
i make your heels bleed from the eggshells,

im sorry
i bury landmines between your toes,

im sorry
i make you choke on your soft words.

im sorry i sail away.
same old same old
I sit in the brim of a half empty bottle, I debate on diving to the bottom. As I take another sip, I start to slip, into the pit.
Truth is, we all share a similar scream.
Not like any ordinary scream expressed by lung power and vocabulary. But, a scream from within.
A scream that says "I like you" or "I love you".
A scream that says "I need this job" or I need this raise".
A scream that says "I'm strong" or "I'm not strong enough".
A scream so loud, that sometimes it pierces any barrier or a scream that whispers so soft it fades like smoke.
Now, Here's The Lie.
The Lie is, everyone listens and everyone cares all the same.
To be bound
by what is
"normal"
and never
venturing away,
progression will
forever
be a myth.
Next page