Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
liza Apr 2014
i have never been kissed
but my friend told me about hers
she's grounded
because he left a hickey
and i don't even know his name but i know what he tastes like
because she's just so **** happy that she's finally had her first kiss
and another friend was talking about kissing her other friend
she's my friend too, i guess
but they're girls, and i have no problem with that
honestly
but they're not even gay
and they're kissing just for fun
on a dare
and i know that i could never even pay someone to kiss me
because i know what i am
and that is not romantic
i know that i am  a monster with a crooked back
and a sad smile
who laughs like a kraken at terrible jokes
and rude towards people
and tries to fit in just a little bit more
and i know that i could never even pay someone to kiss me
because i don't even know the first thing about it
and i don't even know what's happening around me
but i only care about a kiss
and that's really not the best thing for the world
but to me it matters
is it supposed to matter so much?
liza Apr 2014
isn't she golden,
shining in the light?

she fits comfortably into
the golden ration,
reducing the apples of her cheeks
and the width of her hips
and the length of her fingers
to meaningless numbers,
crunched into a calculator, checking
if she still looked golden.
1.61803 (the golden ration)
a bit nervous to go look myself up
liza Apr 2014
i am less than human.
i am a creature that breathes just as they do,
but i am less than them.

i love to believe that i'd fit in
and be a real human some day,
but the little scars on my wrists and legs
move up and become more visible,
screaming
     "here i am"
     "come see"
     "look at how well i can hate"

i am less than human,
where i am a museum of
lazy little razors.
liza Apr 2014
she wasn't cute,
she was alluring.

she wore that chanel no five
and said that she only wore perfume to bed
but if you saw her nights,
you'd see her in her older brother's boxers
and a tank top with a few holes.

and her little harmless lies
were ****,
weaving their separate ways through
all sense that you ever had.

she was beautiful, in all the ways that
a person cannot be.
liza Apr 2014
love is an ocean
trying to drown you
prevail, please?
the ten words collection?
liza Apr 2014
"you've got to take a second to remind yourself that you're only
human
and that you make
mistakes
and that you can be
forgiven
and
remade."

so she did take a second.
only one.
one second out of sixty seconds,
a little more than one percent of a minute.

she took a second,
but she couldn't make herself take fifty nine
more.
so i wrote this after reading "an umbrella for the inferno" by jude rigor. seconds. it's somewhere on that list. i love her poetry, and you ought to go read it.
liza Apr 2014
she wanted to be skinny.

     she wanted to ignore the skin on her body
     until it hung loosely off her skeleton
     like a wrinkled shirt on a hanger
     that needed ironing.

she wanted to be a stick
so that she could fit through the
spaces in the dark of trees
and understand how they fed off of
themselves.

     she wanted to know what it was like
     to have knives instead of collarbones,
     carving off the little chunks of fat,
     and throwing them to the side, letting the
     festering rats devour the residue of
     fourteen years of life.

she wanted to have hips that served as
mountains, looking like the alps,
with climbers covered in furs throwing hooks
over the niches in her body.

     she wanted a ribcage that would hold
     even the mightiest bird, without letting
     a single feather breach her defenses,
     never letting a ferocious caw escape her,

because she wanted to be thin.
Next page