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7.5k · Sep 2014
The Sailor
liz Sep 2014
I only have this
Heart of mine.

Absentminded hands
Rip me part by part.

The pieces are the sand
Beneath my feet.

My tears are the waves
Kissing the shore
Putting them back together.

The thunder is rumbling
In the backyard.

The rain is pouring down
On my soul.

I grab the keys
And put this car in drive
To the water.

I set sail across the ocean.
Tearing these rough seas
On my own.

A sailor.
A compass.
A steerin wheel.

Destenation: home.
5.4k · Sep 2014
On a Wednesday
liz Sep 2014
On a Wednesday,
I want to tell you the truth.
listen to me as if it's the first time you've heard a voice
On a Wednesday,
I want you to understand.
because I don't want to hurt you, you see. I want you to hurt me.
On a Wednesday,
at this table I want you to realize
it was meant to be like this all along.
To be on opposite sides of the table with different worlds as plates, different wants and needs as different tastes.
On a Wednesday,
I want you to taste what I taste.
*the sour taste of our expired time
4.3k · Feb 2015
Small Town New York
liz Feb 2015
Settles on
My aching

I'm stuck
In a world
And inside a time
That's long

I see
The map
Of the world
I keep looking

I think
This compass
I have nowhere
Else to go.

If I could sail
The Mediterranean Sea
Maybe I could find myself
In Pari for free

Wherever I go,
Will I go
With my whole heart.

Im still stuck in
Small town New York.
A little piece of home.
3.3k · Nov 2014
liz Nov 2014
What little they mean when your hands are around me, chocking me.

No stars align
The moon isn't fine
When you say they're beautiful.
3.1k · Sep 2014
I Miss You Though
liz Sep 2014
"I miss you though."
Is what you say to me
when I suddenly cross your mind
after all this time.
Time passes without parachutes
guarding these seconds.

Little do they tell you
about this thing called distance,
it's like a game of Telephone.
And I believe
that your last two words got lost in translation.
"I miss you though, not enough."
2.1k · Oct 2014
The Crumbled Paper
liz Oct 2014
These events in my mind are
aged and crumbled up like
a piece of worthless paper,
because I apparently, am the
only one who remembers it all.
This is all so unsettling.
From everything that they did,
to what the others did;
am I truly that worthless?
One night dragged onto the other
without a pause.
Continuously left behind.
Finding myself alone in these places
that are truly worthless.
'Stupid girl'
is what runs through my mind
as quickly as the people leave
me behind.
How worthless am I
compared to dust?
I see everything black and white.
The color faded away when
the happiness did.
How worthless can these eyes become?
Trying to please everyone
just brought me too far down.
Everybody treats eachother the same.
So how worthless
can these smiles get?
Lie after lie is what is
always told and heard these days.
I see that those spells have been
casted on me many times.
How worthless am I
to be told these lies?

But at the end of the day,
worthless is truly non-existent.
No matter what, everyone
will get shot down-
But everyone will find hope.
We all have that one thing
we find that's not so
You have to find
deep within youself that
it's only you that will listen
to what the others say and do
And hold it against yourself.
You have to power
To turn around and be the one
to call them worthless this time.
Because when it comes down to it,
How worthless can someone be
to make you think you're worthless.
2.1k · Oct 2014
The Highs and Lows
liz Oct 2014
There are the highs and lows.

When praise is the light
That glides you down  
The corridors of life.
When you've been smoking
All night
Your in another world.

You walk around unnoticed,
Scraps in the wind.
Peoples words pound the
Deepest walls of your self esteem.



But sometimes, there will come a time when you can't tell them apart.  
Where the difference between high and low in like trying to figure out if you rather freeze to death or burn to death.

No matter which you choose, they're both lethal.
2.0k · Nov 2014
liz Nov 2014
There coming out your mouth
and you got me beggin'
push them out

Days go by
And I don't see
Why you
Keep on coming
Back to me.

Is forever at a still
Waiting for you
To spread your wings
And go home.

The clouds begin to cry
The sun continues
To hide.
Baby you got nothing
But apathy.

And I'm telling you this is wrong.
Maybe we can fix this
But I'm screaming

Continue to crack
With every step you take
Coming to me.
The night is just
So dark
This light is completely
Blinding me
Can't you see that I'm

No stars align
The moon isn't fine
When you say
Your beautiful.

And I'm telling you this is wrong.
Maybe we can fix this
But I'm screaming

No fights seem to end
We will never settle this
Settle this.

The temperature
Is rising
And we are melting into

This is just wrong.
Feels wrong.
Looks wrong.
Stays wrong.
2.0k · Sep 2014
liz Sep 2014
Breaths apart.
These eyes could work as one.
Tied together.
Chest to chest, we couldn't be any closer.
It dawns on me what you mean to me.
I can't leave.

Your fingers trail down my cheek,
Leaving fire in its track.  
I'm burning for more.
I can't leave.

My future,
Didn't involve this place.
I was meant to be with the changing seasons,
The evergreen trees;
In small towns with infinite possibilities.
But I can't leave.

My heart skips a beat.

Your face contorts,
You know I'm thinking.
You know my mind:
A thousand thoughts per minute.

You lean in,
As if we weren't close enough.
"Tell me," you say.
Your hand trails down my back,
And I'm liquid to the touch.
You pull me closer.

My head is shaking,
Saying no to more.
I'm getting too attached.

"I can't-"
I try to say.
"I won't leave."

Now, your shaking your head.
You laugh against my neck-
This isn't funny.

You say my name and I'm gone.
*"I go," you say "wherever you go."
2.0k · Sep 2014
It wasn't a mistake.
liz Sep 2014
It wasn't a mistake,
pushing you away.
My hands worked for me
As my eyes watched my fingers
Let go.

It wasn't a mistake,
running away.
My mind continued
to use as much force as I could
into my muscles to distance myself from you.

It wasn't a mistake,
the way I felt.
With a heart of broken fiber
And with hands of pressured veins,
I found the will to push you away.

It wasn't a mistake.
1.8k · Sep 2014
The Broken House
liz Sep 2014
Three years ago,
home wasn't home anymore.
When your front door step isn't the same
or your secret hide outs don't exist furthermore,
it isn't home.

"Home is where the heart is",
my mother once said.
She told me to be happy because we are together as a family.
But what happens when
family isn't family furthermore.

More than three years ago
family wasn't family anymore.
When alcohol,
hospital visits,
and pain seeped through the cracks of our roof,
we all broke apart like
shards of a broken glass.

***** lies drip from the walls
on the foundation we call home now.
Anger unleashes through their mouths and hands.
"Forget its" have become a process for breathing.

Three years ago, my lungs filled with holes.
They are rotting with the time and tearing apart by the hands of, not only my demons, but everyone else's.
These demons sense my weakness,
my vulnerability.
So they feed off of my broken eyes and make their way in through the cracks.

Three years ago I lost home.
And myself.
Where is the heart now, mother?

In The Broken House.
1.5k · Sep 2014
liz Sep 2014
You walk through the door,
you put the key in the ignition.
somewhere you don't wanna go.

Yesterday, you heard from an old friend.
What do you say when your dreams
are coming true from someone else.
What do you say?

Your beliefs start seeping through.
You feel stripped naked on your knees
begging please.

So, I'll just lay here.
Let the memories come back
like a whiplash.
On the floor,seconds pass by
without parachutes and I'm free falling

Your insides start breaking apart,
you become someone else.
Unrecognizable reflections.

You start saying these words.
What do you say when you
hurt the ones you love
without meaning to?
Oh, I'm sorry.

You morals start disappearing,
you feel stripped naked
on your knees
begging please.

*So, I'll just lay here.
Let the memories come back
like a whiplash.
On the floor,seconds pass by
without parachutes and I'm free falling
1.4k · Sep 2014
I Exist
liz Sep 2014
Laughs echo down
the halls around you.
Your are seperated from
the happiness.
You have to remind yourself:
I exist.

Everyone around you
is talking.
You are seperated from
their madness.
You have to remind yourself:
I exist.

Lives seem to move on
around you.
You are seperated from
the adventure.
You have to remind yourself:
I exist.

In night and day:
I exist.
In time and history:
I exist.
I have flesh and a heart:
I exist.

As painful as it is to walk, it's the most beautiful thing.
1.4k · Jan 2015
Night Frictions I
liz Jan 2015
You wont be able to sleep
Because of me.

It's because of you
Why I haven't been able
To dream.
1.4k · Nov 2014
Welcome To the Kingdom
liz Nov 2014
Looking at these fancy pictures
Wondering what it's like
To be on the other side.

Taking this step
Is just not enough.
Looking out into the night
Wondering what it takes
To feel alive.

Everyday it's the same thing
Pick it up and go.
Not thinking twice about
What it is that's being me down.
I run to the place.

Welcome to the kingdom.
No one dares to make it past
Our gates.
Golden thrones,
Silver swords...
We got it all.

And I say,
Welcome to the kingdom.

This bloodshed is long lived.
Ready for the fight,
Because we got something better than
Cold lies.

We got it good in this palace.
Decieving eyes,
Wild minds,
Steel built hearts,
Undefeated and strong.

Even when the darkness
Demands a war.
We smile,
There's nothing to wait for.
Not thinking twice about what it is
That can stop us now.
We run.

Here in the kingdom,
We bring them down.
Fire to ashes.
Here in the kingdon,
We bring them down.
Snow to ashes.

Welcome to the kingdom.
1.4k · Dec 2014
Fallen Wings
liz Dec 2014
I used to be able to fly.
It was incredibly simple,
effortlessly easy.

I used to kiss the sky
with my wings by my side-
two loyal companions
in a treacherous war.

The war had four letters-
four letters; all matter.
Four letters, each carrying
a destructible weapon.


They blinded me
and I couldn't tell which one it was,
but one of them had hands.
Merciless hands.
Enemy hands.
Peppered hands.

Ten fingers plucked at my wings-
ripping my feathers out one by one like
plucking eyelashes from a human eye.

I held unlucky pennies.
I breathed the air of space.
I felt the knife of a killer.
I heard nothing-
nothing at all.

But I guess you have to lose your wings in order to understand what it is that truly makes you fly.
i want to be able to fly again
1.3k · Oct 2014
The Clay Sculptures
liz Oct 2014
The feeling that you get when your about to lose control, has to be the scariest feeling of all. When too many absentminded people come in and break everything apart- without realizing it- electrify the band that's about to snap. And that's the worst of all. When you have to sit there watch how these people that live around you make countless mistakes. They sit in a pit of oblivion, but you see it all. And when you go off to make one silly mistake, all the walls come crashing down and suddenly your the one who is the burden. These exact people tell you how to live. They tell you that you don't understand time. That your feelings to have no logical sense to them. That your heart is in the wrong place.
Who are they to say that? Who are they to suddenly become you?
Who are they to act like they care?
You can see disappointment in their faces and you have the guts to believe it. Their  hosts have become clay sculptures- unmendable. Made to dry up and become nothing but a piece on a shelf.
It takes everything within you to not become that.
But it's okay.
Because at least your the only one out of all of them that knows what it takes to live.
Find the light that leads you to feel alive. If you can't, learn to open up to the people around you. Because they will help you find it.
If they don't. Then your surrounded by the wrong people.
1.3k · Sep 2014
liz Sep 2014
This is a message to all the ones
who find themselves alone in
their rooms on a Friday night.

I know downstairs is not the same-
different rooms, different pains.
Believers saying this is a good life.
A good good good good life.

Sister is telling you you're
too young to understand-
that you don't know what you're saying.

Mommy and Daddy are separated
into different rooms and they're telling you:
"Baby, nothing is broken. Wipe away those tears."
Wipe it away. Fade away. Forget it.

They are Oblivion.
From the bottom to the roof,
brick by brick living in
Don't be afraid of the truth. Let the truth be afraid of you.
1.2k · Jul 2015
Dead Water
liz Jul 2015
It's when the ocean waves stop singing
When she feels like she's drowning.
1.2k · Sep 2014
Gun Mouth
liz Sep 2014
These thoughts will forever be
A silent battle within my mind.
But I shall never let these words
Shoot fire from my lips
To create a war with your oblivious heart.
1.2k · Sep 2014
Home is Where
liz Sep 2014
Home is where
your walls have seen
all the ones you love.

Home is where
you've been hurt,
and the floor was your best friend.

Home is where
cheers of joy filled the halls
on a holiday with champagne.

Home is where
every single square inch of your heart
is mended and safe.

Home is where
I haven't been in quite some time.
How long has it been since home was a constant melody dancing in the air?
1.1k · Sep 2014
Little Hands
liz Sep 2014
Little hands explore the world with fresh eyes.
They don't know language or how to count, but these hands are utterly fascinated.

Little hands are wrapped around her fathers pinky,
being directed around the world.
They don't know what pain or suffering is, but these hands want to feel everything.

Little hands trace the path of a raindrop down the car window.
Webs of the tears from above cry against her absentminded fingers.
They don't know a broken heart or the meaning of forever, but these hands are determined to believe.

Little hands are now veined and strong.
Little hands have been through hell and back.
Little hands pushed the monsters away.

Little hands have a mind of its own.

These little hands aren't so little anymore.
Want to be little again?
1.0k · Aug 2014
False Light
liz Aug 2014
It's all the words that are jumbled in your head.
It's all the emotions burning your veins.
It's the way your mouth dries
And how your throat clams up.
It's when you have so much to say,
But you can't say anything at all.
It's like trying to climb up the ladder,
To the promising light above.
To reach the top, for it to be too blinding
And throws you back down.
Your left to mend the broken pieces
With blood tears and scratching screams because
You were already broken.
You fell off that ladder
Over and over and over again.
The blisters on your hands,
The sweat dripping down your back,
The ache in your legs,
Push you to the the top.
You keep climbing and climbing.
You don't know to what,
But you see the light.
And it settles into your eyes like fresh roses and into your mind like a dream.
It never shuts off.
It never wavers.
It's always on.
So when the shadows from below try to pull you down and succeed,
Or when the tides swallow you whole, the salt burning your cuts,
And when that water enters your mouth, your voice to an inaudible whisper,
Remember that it wasn't the ladder or the water or the shadows or the burning cuts that were supposed to lift you up to the top as a warrior.
It was your blistered hands,
The working sweat seeping down your hallow neck,
And the ache in your legs
That was supposed to follow a dream.
Not a blind hope.
1.0k · Nov 2014
Arrows Pointed At You
liz Nov 2014
I wasn't afraid of you, you know.
You had your team and your burning stares,
but I wasn't afraid.
Little did you know, I had my arrows pointed at you.
We all had the same passion-
In the beginning that is.
We all wanted something out of this experience.
But most importantly,
we all wanted to be on top.
So we started climbing the
cold, ragged, stormy mountain
to see who could make it to the there.
I was behind in the beginning,
invisible from their distance above.
A tiny ant that could be stomped upon,
an inconvenience.
But in the distance below,
through the evergreen trees
and the cold rustling wind,
I had my arrows pointed at you.
I started gaining up seed,
I saw the looks of your faces as I was passing by you.
The defeat.
Looking into the those eyes,
I still had my arrows pointed at you.
And I reached the top.
With callused feet and sore muscles.
With an aching heart and an uneven chest.
I looked down below and then saw your laughs.
Your smiles.
I heard your words.
You had your fingers pointed to me.
They were now my demons,
haunting me in the light.
The were now scars on my heart,
locking myself further and further away.
But in the night and in the light of day,
I had my arrows pointed to you.
I’m dancing on this mountain,
at least for right now.
Because I’m at the top,
so why not enjoy it.
But my arrows are still like a live wire
between my fingers
pointed at you.
I saw you today.
I tried to look away,
to keep you and your heartless soul
in a distant memory stored away
like a forgotten childhood trait.
But you swerved your path and fell right into mine.
You want me to be afraid.
You want me to regret the decisions I made.
You want me to be weak.
But darling,
you've got it all wrong.
Because when success seeps through my veins
and you’ll be forced to hear my name
every day- to you, like nails on a chalkboard-
remember this.
That I was never afraid.
I made the right decisions.
I was never weak.
Because my arrows were always pointed at you.
And now the fingers of life are the ones
that are letting these arrows target straight to your heart.
And like always,
I’ll always be at the top of that mountain with
With callused feet and sore muscles.
With an aching heart and an uneven chest.
But this time you won’t be laughing and smiling
and saying false words about me.
You’ll be afraid
because I’ll have my dignity
and my team of burning stares
with our arrows pointed at you
1.0k · Sep 2014
Off My Chest 2
liz Sep 2014
A million pieces
On the floor.
Of you,
Painted in black.

Dark souls.
Colorless eyes.
We are drawn in
In gray
In disguise.

We lost the will
To believe.
When we are
Our own crumbles
At our feet.

Even in the night it's a fight,
This fire is burning me alive
In the streets.
993 · Feb 2015
liz Feb 2015
Rip me apart.
Rip me wide open.
Take these bones
And pulverize them.

I dare you to take me
For all that I am.
Change me into something
So I'll be damed.
Maybe you'll break me
With nothing left to see
Make it start so this could be over
Because just maybe I'll leave a warrior
967 · Nov 2014
Float On
liz Nov 2014
A week ago you were here,
and now you're gone.
My mind tries to flimsily grasp
the unfathomable that swirls around
the empty pit you left inside of me
due to your sudden departure.

They said you floated on at impact,
suffering not in the vocabulary.
They said many other things,
but it just lead to claw scratching questions
we will never be able- nor want- to get the answers to.

So we sit here and wait for the grief to cut its path
like a storm waiting to pass.
The ones you left behind,
truly lock eyes for the first time
beginning to understand what the
true meaning of love really is.

So we live here, living for each other...
for you.
We pass hugs and condolences,
tears and admiration.
Cries and laughter.
For you.
For us.
To pass the grief.

You were a warrior,
and silent king.
You were a beautiful light,
a spouting sunflower.
But you left too soon,
gone any trace of you.

So we are left here remembering you,
keeping you alive in memory
and alive at heart.

A week ago you were here,
and now you're not.
But every time my feet touch the water
at the shoreline in the brisk wind,
I'll remember what you always used to say:

*"Float On"
For Sierra.
871 · Oct 2014
The Stone Poet
liz Oct 2014
He has the face of an outmoded brick wall.

She never wears her heart on her sleeve.

He watches the world through
The eyes of a sailor
Anticipating for the storm
And always remaining anxious in the calm waters waiting for the waves.

She listens to what you say
Like the critic to your own novel.
Holding onto each word
And waiting for the slight chance
That you might go back on what you once believed.

He tastes what's around him in small portions.
Because if he ever got the opportunity to taste something so beautiful and unforgettable, his heart would be like pieces of sand on the floor in its absence.

She holds her nose in the smell of trouble as if hypocritical presnece is toxic.
Her lungs will fill up with the lies and ***** secrets of the world and turn them into tar.
She knows once she get that one sniff, she won't ever breathe the same again.

These are the Stone Poets.
The ones who have their eyes on everything.
From the way we blink to the techniques we use to tie our shoelaces, they have got our words and actions down to a personal science.

The Stone Poets are the poets that have to most heart in the words that they say, but you would never guess it was them if you somehow got the enchanting opportunity to look them in the eye.
862 · Feb 2015
Fight No More
liz Feb 2015
She always tied her shoelaces
With a grace
That she will always

But she was sure
To put her socks on
Just the way her mother did:
Neat and tidy.

An unsettling discomfort consumes her,
Knowing the feeling is never the same unless she does it.

So she is left at the bottom of the staircase,
Doing it herself.

She always caught
Opportunity and shoved it
In her pocket.
She was an optimist
And loved it.

But she was sure to
Read the fine print
Just as her father always did:
For errors and loops.

It's either triumph or pure hatred
That consumers her,
Knowing that she has packed her bags
And left that world behind
To create one of her own.

It was too dark over there,
Yet it hadn't always been that way.
She remembered the sunny days,
Those were the most lethal.
Those were the days that would
Haunt her dreams...
Haunt her reality.

The glow of day would be the shadows
That rip her apart.
Because it's only memory that she continues
To live for.

She fell deep into the world
And when it ****** her right out,
She was left grasping for air that
Didn't think the way she did:
Deserving and earned.

It was bliss that consumed her
Once she realized
She didn't have to fight
No more.
834 · Oct 2014
But It's Okay
liz Oct 2014
I know your small... It's a really big world out there. Full of devastation and wonders and crimes and love.
But it's okay, because you mean the world to me.

People seem to have these small mouths with certain vindictive words that blow your confidence six feet under.
But it's okay, the future holds beautiful promises for you.

Looking back to the past, seems like looking at a life not of yours.
As if the eyes that once were are not the eyes you bear now.
A kolidescope of difference and confusion.  
But it's okay, because I will make my hands the lenses you need to see clear again.

It gets sad and lonely.
Youll get lost and unsure.
But its okay, I'll be the compass and the light to guide you and keep you warm.

It gets hazy and rainy.
You'll get drowned and need the search for air.
But it's okay, because
Everything will be okay.
778 · Sep 2014
The Morning Message
liz Sep 2014
I pick up the phone
and see that you said hello today.
I break apart inside.

I can't pretend
that I have the love
that you have for me.
It's just not right.

This is so messed up.
I'm taking five steps,
and always turning right.
Around and around we go.

I don't understand
how you can stare at my walls
and want to
break them down.

I would of gladly
opened up my walls
and let you in
in time.

*This is not okay.
liz Oct 2015
Walk him up the driveway
through the door
up into your room
and see what it is he really wants.

Look at him in the eye
listen to him
and try to speak
and see if he'd do the same.

Watch his heart
that he claims is broken
and be the judge
of whose fault
it really is.

Take him to the water
look into his eyes
as you test his memory-
he'll look away every time.

It'll break you're heart, but it was already broken anyway.
Because you would've let him in
knowing he doesn't know respect
he doesn't know silence
he doesn't remember you.

You'll suddenly realize
that you didn't love him to pieces,
you loved him in pieces...
while he never even loved you at all.
747 · Dec 2014
Gone Girl
liz Dec 2014
Whenever I tried talking to you
you pushed your hair back
to tell me
you've always had it worse.

Maybe silence created you
to rebel against nature,
oh they did well.

I've once seen lifeless eyes speak
a million words
one of them was yours.

Maybe tears created you
because that's all you are
in my arms.

The hands of the clock
don't go back,
but you cling to them
to a time that's long gone.

You are a gone girl.
G  o   n      e     g     i        r       l
736 · Sep 2014
When I Breathe
liz Sep 2014
Do you feel better now?  Lying in bed alone?
"I miss you, please answer the phone."
"It's been awhile." "Maybe we can work this out."


I find myself crawling back to you.
We were friends,we had it good.
But, you broke your promises.
I drop the phone and cry outmoded tears
on you.
On us.

But all this time, you've forgotten.
That I was the one who lost

And it only hurts when I breathe.
Heartbreaking goodbyes, over and over again.
It only hurts when I breathe.

Six flights back to where we started.
To prove to you this isn't over.
To find out that I'm the other one.
I thought I deserved better than being a choice.

*I guess not.
718 · Jul 2016
liz Jul 2016
There are hallways
and there are rooms.
Roads connecting to homes.
Paths leading to villages.

Vacant spaces brining me to nowhere.

Veins are lines on a map,
we are more than just bodies.
We are unfolded pieces of paper
creased in the corners with relevant urge.
With crests and valleys composed of experiences
and dreams
and adventure.

I have yet to unfold.

Doors whisper,
they invite you in.
So many locks and keys
and treasure chests full of passion
of determination
of unwavering will.

I’m locked and no key has ever fit.

Footsteps are history in the making.
Proof of the reason you stayed;
the reason you left.
The carved sand along the shore
making you wonder if they are running away
or going home.

I turn to only find my shadow.

Maps full
of all these hallways and rooms
and reasons
and unopened treasure chests.
Missing keys and ghostly whispers
before every door
and I begin to wonder
whether or not I was begging please
to the slurring headlights down the midnight road
or to somebody who could save me.
There comes a point when you need to realize that sleeping isn't a cure to anything.
714 · Sep 2014
Two Can Play This Game.
liz Sep 2014
On the first day, I walked by you.
I fell into those brown eyes.
On the second day, you told me your name.
How do ya do?

Before I knew it,
we were walking down the same line,
side by side.
Our mouths were closed,
but our eyes were playing it all.

The thunder rumbled,
the cameras flashed and I told you how I feel.
But, it's not like you gave a **** anyway.
I played the role of a fool so well,
I should be writing a script,
or playing the part
of a girl who broke her own heart.

I received the flowers you gave to me,
I snapped them in half.
It's not like I cared about you anyway.
Do you like the taste of your medicine?

Before I know it,
I'll be dancing with your demons,
side by side.
Because I think I'm starting
to like this game.
You think your playing a game. You thought you won. Well, dear, it isn't even over.
680 · Aug 2015
the way down
liz Aug 2015
I slipped
and found the bruises beneath my feet.
The damage wasn't in the fall,
it was in letting go on repeat
just to get back up
and walk on these empty, sawdust streets.
The fall was full of periods,
composed of all your incomplete sentences.
The ground held all the broken bones
of the broken hearts.
The rain drowned the tears,
the thunder muffled the screams.

Yet, you found your hands in front of you
and your feet on the road.
Your fingers kissed your lips
as you took your first step
from the way down.

On the way down, you find the courage to let go of the things you were strong enough to let in.
653 · May 2016
somebody else
liz May 2016
I searched for the words to say to you
in the floorboards that creaked and groaned
whenever the ghost of you would linger around my mind

In the same places I find you
as I stray into opposite corners of your room
to find something else in you
that should give me a reason to stay

Seduction isn’t wise in you
while I'm catching your eyes wandering
around the stumbling crowd
looking for something else to touch

I need to think about you with somebody else
so I can dance alone
and be okay with that

though you never wanted to dance with me anyway
598 · Sep 2014
Believe In Me
liz Sep 2014
There's only so much one can be.
I write, I sing, I play a melody-
I believe.

Trust has fallen to the floor.
Too many hands have come in
to break my heart.

What if I could be a bird?
I would spread my wings and fly,
and be one with the wind.

What if I could be the ocean?
I would be the waves kissing the shore,
'cause I always come back for more.

What if one day they woke up
and believed in me?
Would they ask me to play?
Or hear what I have to say?

Calluses form on my fingers.
From lifting the weight,
to playing these strings-
I'm on my own.

What if I was an arrow?
Would I fight off the enemies?
Or would I lead somebody
back home?

What if I could grant wishes?
Would I grant my own?
Or would I give this world a miracle?

I'm telling you,
I'll play my music.
I'm screaming at you,
please believe in me.

I would give this world wonders
if you would just
believe in me.
A lot of the time, one might find themselves chasing after their dreams... alone. This is dedicated to the ones who dream big and no one seems to notice your color.
Believe in yourself. It would give this world wonders.
587 · Nov 2014
I had no idea
liz Nov 2014
I thought I had you there.
For a fragment of a second I had hope in you.

Yes, the girl who strays in the corner of the room who has trouble believing in the force of God actually put hope in you.
Into something.

I knew dissapointment would be inevitable but it was too soon.

I thought I had you there.
For a sick pathetic moment of my life,
I wasted my time on helping you glue back together the pieces you left broken on the floor.

But I had no idea you would take that glue gun and burn my hands together, locking my fingers in a dismantled mess.

I had no idea you could be this sick.

I had no idea I could fall this quick.
582 · Aug 2015
liz Aug 2015
I've never tasted a color before,
until I met you and hit the floor.
Counting the wood chips,
I can see the way your heart trips.
So, I've tied my tongue to save myself
but I still turn to find your heart beside mine on the shelf.
Nightmares force me to think of you,
cause I’ll wake up remembering this is the way you felt, too.
The sirens call for you in the night
But your a heavy sleeper, try as you might.
I wore this dress and waited for you
months later, alone, it turned blue.
Then, one night sleeping in the rain,
I found your promises in my pockets to explode the pain.
They didn’t come from where you locked it,
but I took them, and waited for my heart to split.

I'm wearing this color, because it's full of love
and I'm waiting for you to see me
Yet, you don't even know my favorite color
painfully knowing this is the only way this is going to be.
580 · Jan 2015
Look what you've done now
liz Jan 2015
It's 12:23 am and my sister comes knocking on my door.
At first I couldn't hear a thing
The fear through her eyes was so loud, it muted the world.
Logic sinked into my brain to listen
And I wish I hadn't.
"Mom's not waking up!" She cries.
And over
And over.

My feet are on the floor, pushing me out of the room.
I'm blinded by the lights-
The sudden wake.
I'm deafened by my fathers shouts,
"Gabe, wake up!"

Within seconds I'm beside him.

Speech has been slipped from me, but he looks into my eyes.
"She's not waking up."

No matter how many times I'm going to hear it tonight
I won't believe it.
"Help me," he says.
And I push him aside.

He shouldn't be here.
He shouldn't see this.

I kneel down to the bed
Her eyes closed
Mouth agape.

She looks dead.
I was convinced she was dead.

Now I'm angry.
Who does she think she is?
I told her to stop,
"Mom, stop. This drinking problem you have needs to stop."
It never did.
She never listened.
Now look what she has done.

I slap her.
Right across the face.
I shout for mom, searching for it in her face.
Looking for the qualities
That make her the one who conceived me.
I find nothing.

And I slap her again.

My sister is in the corner of the room
With my brother,
All older than me.
All crying.
My father is beside me trying to keep his rock but
Even the most innocent plates inevitably reach an earthquake.

My other brother comes running upstairs
Dauntless as he thinks he is.
The ambulance is on its way.

She's leaving.

I slap her again.

Seconds later I'm pushed aside.
Help is here.
Then their in the room-
Touching her
Inserting her with unfathomable things.

Then one man lifts her hand
Right over her face,
As if it were a feather and he lets go.
But feathers are graceful and beautiful
My mothers hand
The one that now has lost the touch to ever gain back comfort on me again, drops like a brick.
A brick full of all her lies and all her pathetic ruthlessness, falls on her face.

They take her out of the room, still unconscious.
That was the last time I ever saw my mother,
Even though she's still alive and with me today.
578 · Mar 2015
Hallways of Ashes
liz Mar 2015
One more word
& I'm out the door.
You beg and plead:
"You're always mad at me!"
I said:
"Oh, please..."

I watched the
feather fall.
You snickered and laughed
as the world fell
through your lap.

Two times I saw
those lifeless eyes,
but you still had
a beating heart.
So, I spent the night
chasing cars.

I heard the angels sing-
It was through a crack in the door.
I guess they don't take apologies.

The flood is coming in,
you better know how to swim.
The skies are growing dark,
and we've got to travel far.
The walls in my room
have turned to ashes.

We are living in hallways of ashes.

Three words
& I'm numb.
I don't feel them at all
so don't feel like you need to
make that call.

I felt my armor fall.
One day we're at rest
then the next,
there's an arrow in my chest.

Fourth time around,
I finally figured it out.
I need to let you go;
you're love has got
nothing to show.

I saw the candle dim.
The light inside of you
is black blue,
burning these floors and our walls
into hallways of ashes.
578 · Oct 2014
Should Have Known Better
liz Oct 2014
Someone once told me,
"You should've have known better
makes no sense. We are trying are best."

Take a step back and realize,
It does make sense.

Sometimes we go off
Making mistakes.
Acting out as an instinct
As opposed to a logical

Sometimes fury overrides
Our senses and we are left
With a blinding void to
A straight path of
"Should have known betters"

So yes, it does make sense.
Because even when you are trying your best,
Your always destined to make a mistake.
549 · Feb 2015
Just like her
liz Feb 2015
She doesn't know if anyone notices
That it shows in her face.
It was different then as it is now;
The damage tucked in the angles of her face-
In the shadows, in the light, beneath her eyes...

She could feel it changing
The way her laugh has suddenly become
A mechanism to not make her happy,
But others happy.
To push away the questions that would
Come crawling from concered hearts
From the thunder storm hanging
Above her head.

They aren't concerned for her being,
They're concerned for their curiosity.

Her smile used to reach her eyes,
Now it doesn't even reach her heart.
The path that connected emotions
To features was destroyed in the storm.
Like nature, it's going to take a while to recover.
And even when it does,
It will never be the same.

Just like her.
She won't ever be the same with every passing storm.
Every smile will be struck with lightening at night.
Every laugh will be drowned with the pouring rain

Just like her,
The storm has become her.
543 · Jun 2015
Prince of the Sun
liz Jun 2015
It's easy for you to speak
Because your black eyes always hold to what they seek.
You count off on your golden fingers in lists what you want,
And I tell you it's me who's as bland as pale typewriter font.
I can't just unzip the skin between my *******
And hand you the bleeding heart in my chest.
For that place has been soldered shut,
And the only way in is to cut.
It was my tethered hands that painfully made the seal-
Everyone mistakenly thought there was a piece of me to steal.  
I realized with broken car radios and muted clocks I only had what was inside,
And no treasure cats smile could ever paper cut this pride.
Your hands were made from the Sun,
Who made my battlefield and won.
And one day you will touch me and I will burn,
But you'll be too bound to your creator to ever return.
530 · Nov 2013
Memory Lane
liz Nov 2013
It's been a long time, hasn't it?
Since you actually let the past
actually sink in on you.
Since you let it come down
to salt streaks down your cheeks.
All you want to do is go back;
back in time.
To when you felt like,

You want to roam the halls of the past.
To see what was left behind.
To see all the broken pieces.
The broken pieces of what could of been.
The broken pieces of your heart.

The doors of reliving barred you in.
You fight and fight,
but it's never good enough.
Because your young and a fool.
The present is all you have,
so make the most if it.

Memory Lane,
is nothing but an old ragged road.
It leads to nowhere but the past.
Don't be the coward that goes back.
You'll find nothing but simply,
522 · Apr 2016
towards the end
liz Apr 2016
At some point
you just pull off the Band-Aid
and it hurts
but, then it's over and you're relieved
and you can see the wounds
for what they really are
and face the truth
that you're already healing.

516 · Dec 2014
Tonight I...
liz Dec 2014
The soft hum of a melody was playing in the background. My fingertips were dancing across the keyboard and I was writing away. There was something about the combination that sent these beautiful tremors through me.
The words that flew onto the paper sang this melody and I was transported into the world that I thought I lost a long time ago. I was home in this instant.
It wasn't where I was, or who was around me.
It was was the realization that what I was doing was going to bring me bliss. That this right here is what is going to send me home.
Typing, or writing or singing these stories that come to me will be the life of me.
And I have no problem on spending the rest of my years doing this.

Tonight, there was something about the rhythm of my fingers that danced to the melody that played in the background.
And I wrote a story...

A beautiful story.
506 · Aug 2014
It's not like
liz Aug 2014
It's not like there was anything I could do.
Crying at their feet and begging for mercy would've left me more wounded then the days and months that had passed.
It's not like she would ever change.
She threw her life away to the countless days sitting in the bathroom with alcohol electrifying her veins,
turning her into the mother that I never used to know.
It's not like he actually tried anymore or understood.
He had me running in a pool of water expecting me to keep my head above the surface because he was too fed up to help me.
It's not like they even noticed.
That I was still a kid.
That as soon as my siblings beside me grew older and wiser,
I was expected to do just the same.
To maintain their level of intelligence and work.
It's not like it mattered that I was 14 when they got tired of raising me.
Of teaching me the ropes.
It's not like I was tired of holding up the weight on my shoulders,
maintaing my first job at 15.
It's not like I was fed up with their constant bickering and nagging at each other.
It's not like I didn't notice that he started looking at other women because she wasn't good enough.
Its not like she was good at hiding her misery behind those eyes that looked shattered and fragmented like pieces of a broken heart.
It's not like she wasn't a mother anymore.
It's like he wasn't a father anymore.
It's not like that at all.
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