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May 2014 · 648
Infatuation
Passion is poisonous.
It appears, slicing into my skin
and dragging itself behind me;
A heavy ball and chain.

It is not action;
I am a prisoner of war
Bound by my own shackles
A passive affliction I never wanted.

The prison to which I'm confined
Remains pleasant and open
As the little white poppies droop
In the window-box outside the bars.
May 2014 · 416
Without You (10w)
Without you, I can't find the good in the world.
May 2014 · 231
Untitled
I love the way
You can sense the rain in the atmosphere
Based on the touch of my hand.

I love the way
You read my lips so fluently
Because you're the same, at heart.

I love the way
Your eyes glow a vibrant blue
When you tell me about the things you love.

I love the way
You look at me
When I'm too scared to look back.
for a friend~
May 2014 · 785
Goals
I don't want to think that I'll be a Hemingway,
And Wilde was too sharp;
Parker loved a new man twice a day,
Poe's work was far too dark.

Homer never trimmed his hair,
Bukowski was drunk as a skunk;
Dickinson fancied her self as fair,
And Woolf's career just sunk.

I dream of being Vonnegut
Though Cummings mastered nonsense
Though when Dickens lines up to putt,
He and Plath couldn't stop at one sentence.

Fitzgerald knows the psyche twist
Though Freud will never slip;
Cobain spent every moment ******
while Courtney Love was on a trip.

When I think of my successors
(In Hell it must be tight)
I know to challenge my oppressors
I'll likely have to write.
May 2014 · 500
My Moon
I got drunk and told you
The stars couldn't possibly hang without you
I got high and told you
The sun rose to say hello to you
I got angry and told you
That the moon crashed to the Earth in your tears
I got a boyfriend and told you
The lunar eclipse would come someday soon
I got tired and I told you
The constellations hung in your irises
I got depressed and told you
That you were my pluto
I got lonely and I told you
The stars had already died
for koda~
May 2014 · 294
Untitled
I know the rain is flattening
Still, I discard my umbrella.
       I am weathered by the stones that you send my way
You're a chip in my porcelain skin.
I played guitar so long that my fingers are calloused
Pressing my fingers to tough strings leaves my hands burning
       I don't know what I'm trying to say;
My tears taste like the ocean.
A drabble, of sorts~
May 2014 · 684
Untitled
someday my life will end
and so will yours
so kiss me any time
*okay?
losing patience~
May 2014 · 467
Untitled
I'm watching the clouds roll in,
Perhaps out of fear.
Come to me
We'll raise our faces to heavy droplets
And you can leave your red umbrella in my car.

Don't speak.
I'll take your hand and lead you
To where the wind in the pines screams your name.
You belong to me,
'Til death do us part and et cetera.

I'll let you scratch your fingernails down my spine
And the trees will entwine themselves with us
While the sky howls delightedly.
Your right eye was always a little bluer
And your left hand a little sturdier.

There you will slay me
Kiss my open sores
And when the smell of pine becomes too much,
You will leave me there to tease passers-by with my bare legs.
You always left your red umbrella in my car.

I eventually left my love in your arms.
not sure who I'm dedicating this to. perhaps to the ex; i had a dream about him.
May 2014 · 393
Untitled
What if I told you of a spell
One that could destroy whole countries
In the blink of an eye?
Would you scoff and turn up your collar
at my paganistic ways?
Lover, I speak the truth!
This phrase is not a lie!
It causes violent outrage
And it is inescapable.
Save yourself:
Don't pass it on!
It is not worth the carnage,
But I will tell the dreadful words, as I have told man after man:
*I love you.
more of a drabble. not expecting this one to trend at all. not my best work.
May 2014 · 600
Ryan
Never will he love my lips
    Never will he dote and fawn
And now I seek his fingertips
    Lying lonely in the lawn
all you ever did is leave a stain~
May 2014 · 757
Trigger Warning: Love
never tell me you love me
my lips are chapped with the thought of
destroying you
or maybe
you destroying me
depending on the weather

never tell me you love me
i’ll be so full of the fear of
deserting you
that
i won’t shut my eyes at night
until i’ve counted my blessings    

never tell me you love me
i don’t need any more reasons to live
for a friend who has helped me so much, but who made a mistake~
May 2014 · 1.1k
Thanksgiving
Every year my family gathers around the kitchen table
(boxed wine and chatter
about distant binge-drinking aunts)
When I was young my sister carved the turkey
(swatted my hand when I reached for
the carving knife. "I want to do it this year!")
I am in her place at the kitchen table
(boxed wine and chatter
about the bruises on my knees)
I will forever stand in the kitchen
(no one swats my hand when I reach for
the carving knife. "Maybe I'll do it this year.")
it's a danger night~
May 2014 · 993
His Lawful Shredded Wife
Do you
Kurt Cobain
take Courtney Michelle Love
to be your lawful shredded wife?

I imagine her sitting across from him
Her lips stained a violent red
Smiling
She'd say what I say now
It didn't have to be this way

That's what's funny to me
Even afterwards she was composed
And maybe,
I don't know,
Maybe she was too full of ******* and hatred to really grasp it

But think of it this way:
Would anyone be capable of shooting up
and then shooting themselves?
Doubtfully

Do you
Kurt Cobain
take Courtney Michelle Love
to be your lawful shredded wife?
Sorry, I accidentally posted that last unfinished one.
Apr 2014 · 449
Kurt
He sold records like
His dealer sold ******

I'm in love with a man who
Is six feet under
And gave up far too early
Rest In Peace, Kurt.
Apr 2014 · 386
Over Him
You're a child
In the way I have to swat your hand away
I tell you:
Stop! Keep your hands to yourself!
You continue reaching
And I would kindly have at you with a belt
"I'm over him," you said.
Apr 2014 · 401
Untitled
You **** me
Romantically
You hurt me
Lovingly
It's romantic and
It's killing me
I love how you're
Hurting me
about ryan basically
Apr 2014 · 427
Men: A Hate Poem
Lovely lady, keep away
Charming men will lead astray.

Lovely lady, hold feelings in
Men are rarely genuine.

Lovely lady, never call
Men just love a decent brawl.

Lovely lady, don’t fall in love
He’ll be gone, push-comes-to-shove.

Lovely lady, I’d throw a punch
Did I not love them so ******* much!
this is a satirical poem  (◡‿◡✿)
Mar 2014 · 590
Laughter
Cacophonous waves washing over me
White teeth exposed
The folded skin framing your blue eyes
Your laughter is for me
And for that I am honoured
But I'm finally old enough to know
That it isn't a code

You say the most flirtatious things to me
As if you don't know
That each one feels like a stab in the chest
And that the closer you move your chair to me
The farther away I want to be
To keep you away from my vulnerability

Never tell me you care
For I may just disappear completely.
Mar 2014 · 1.2k
Spring Fever
Love is in the air.

Little pollen fibres floating with
Drifting dust motes
Small and invisible
Were it not for
Light refracting on a window pane
Socks with a positive charge
Metal doorhandles

My body's whispers for oxygen become shouts;
Suffocation.

Love is in the air.
Wow, trending! I feel loved. Thanks, guys!
Mar 2014 · 578
Sheep
Are we
Sheep
To be herded in lines
Sheared of all that makes us valuable
Powerless

Legs weak and pink
We hold ourselves as tall as we can
Transfigured to be the same as everyone else
Unsatisfied

Bleating feebly from hoarse throats
Brushing up against each other desperately
Tufts of hair shooting from thin bodies
Alone

Led off to slaughter
*Freed
Mar 2014 · 530
Untitled
You are
A soft blue shirt on a passing stranger
Soaked by wayward droplets of rain;
The silvery lake water
Rippling and lapping at the rocky shoreline;
The roar of a jet-engine
bound for distant dark places;
The knit grey material of my best jumper
sheltering my skin from harsh winter air;
The pining that comes so naturally to me
radiating from every pore of my being.

I am
Bruises on the knees of a lost child
Ever-present, worrisome ink-blots of pain;
Rocks skipped by young lovers
Lost, forgotten, and replaced.
The glow of the call button above seats in a plane
Belittling all those who respond;
The frayed sleeves of an abandoned jumper in Goodwill
Irreparably destroyed by whomever I have trusted;
Out of sight, out of mind
No object of your affection.

I ask you
*"If I watch you, will you boil?"
Dedicated to my current disaster.
Mar 2014 · 478
A Death, in Itself.
Often-times when we part,
My cheeks are pink with laughter.
My heart has to restart,
And it's beating ever-faster.

When we speak, how I smile!
How my eyes meet yours with pining;
How your grin makes all worthwhile
When, with laughter, we are dying.

How I crave the simple things;
Small gestures of solidarity.
How a kiss would give me wings;
Fill my heart with such clarity!

This is fine, I suppose,
If your heart would beat for mine;
But now I'm red as a rose,
And all that's left to do is pine!

*That, my love, is how I'll die.
Mar 2014 · 493
Essay
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
I sweat as my fingers pound the keys.
My breathing becomes erratic, my words bordering on incoherence.
This...
Will be...
A masterpiece!

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more of a disaster as I become more temperate.
Did someone say... procrastination?
Mar 2014 · 316
Blue
I watch the rain as it patters against the window.
It reminds me of you,
Loud and unsettling.

You take my hand and I adjust your tie;
A feat of symbiosis.

I whisper,
"Thank you."
But I know that I am not welcome.

Your eyes slide down my cheeks
Following the blue trails of my tears.
You whisper,
"I'm sorry."

Forgiveness is anything but subjective.
Mar 2014 · 460
What's in a Name?
I jump and curse at the sound of my name
Because when I was younger it was beaten into my skinny bones.

My first name became the sound of my father's fist on a wooden door,
My middle name the sound of papers crackling in a fire,
My last name the regrets of generations of men.

What's in a name
Until it has rolled off your tongue
Like the rustle of leaves in the brisk wind?
Mar 2014 · 478
Claire
Didn't I tell you
That my garden was not to be played in?
That there is a sanction of land fenced-in
Only for me?

Don't play innocent,
I know you jumped the fence;
You tore up the flowers I had planted
In that beautiful garden, mine.

Don't act like you didn't know
That the white pickets were
To keep out children
Like yourself.

I'll never forgive you,
Even though the wind in the grass whispered your name.
Rows of poppies beckoning for you,
Claire.
Mar 2014 · 275
Untitled
I have breathed sighs the colour of your eyes;
Spoken words that felt like the worn cotton threads of your shirt;
Slid my hands across shelves sharp as the straight line of your jaw;

My fingers, stiff as steel, are colder than the way my name slides off your tongue.

— The End —