Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sarah Oct 2014
Body asks for breath and you give it
and you tell yourself again about how you are worth more than crying, cowering in the bathroom stall of your high school, its the last period class of the day
Body asks for breath and you give it
take a sip and another and another until you are gorged on sweet smelling drinks surrounded by people you knew once upon a time in a dream you had as a little girl
Body asks for breath and you give it
run from every word that has etched itself into your paper thin oxygen skin, or has eaten at the pit of your stomach- worthless, ****, horrible, inferior, inferior, inferior
Body asks for breath and you give it
you've been in the dark for so long but tonight you stick your head out of the passenger window and gaze at the stars, and that song comes on - you know the one- smile erratically because you've survived for now, get lost in the song
Body asks for breath and you give it, give it, give it.
my songs: gold- wake owl, cigarette daydreams- cage the elephant, Dancing in the moonlight- Alt-J, Hourglass- Catfish and the Bottlemen
  Apr 2014 Sarah
I always wrote ****-ee before, it made more sense with the context, you are stretching the rope, it is adding to your acceleration, you are, possibly, falling.
My darling friend, it is not the momentum of the rope I was warning you against. Although I wonder what metaphor that could take. No, I was warning you about the fall. Period.
Albiet I warned with an unconscious mind. For I was falling too. No, I did not jump. I shall not take that credit. (Not because I am above it, but because others who read here know I did not jump). But we both fell anyways. We fell for fictional men. We fell for fictional beasts. And we fell for boys.
Good luck to us both. May we never get used to the fall. May each jump feel more strongly than the first. May we never be that hurt that we are too scared to jump again.
Two equally (well, almost) inexperienced guiding each other through the bungee.
  Apr 2014 Sarah
We dreamed of becoming more than what we were.
And we escaped in the smoke that filled the room.

Our souls trapped...
Jailed behind our ribcages.

So we sat there...
Changing out the records.
Mouthing all the lyrics.

Waiting for the perfect moment to speak words.
Those times never came...

Instead we became more silent.

Inhaling the smoke.
Exhaling it all the same.

And I sat there wondering what else was out there.

I felt so comfortable in your surroundings.
Too high to realize what was really going on.

I broke the cycle.
The routine of a roller coaster ride that wasn't fun.
Longing for something more.
Wondering if I deserved better.

Even when I thought you were the best...
I started to question that.

My love for you may never die...
But my addictions did.

My tears brought on the clouds.
And I had to follow the sun.

No more.
No more tears.
No more love to give to you.
  Apr 2014 Sarah
Taru M
the past only drowns
if you keep swimming in it
More quote than poem
Sarah Apr 2014
and so they searched for me under their fingernails, in the gutter, but most importantly in his arms
"I used to think there was something wrong with me when I touched you and you flinched, when I tried to get to know you and you closed up completely, when you refused to get emotional over anything. But things have changed, I'm wrong aren't I? There is nothing wrong with me, there is something wrong with you."
Sarah Apr 2014
bloodied hands rub walls of confessionals like a cheap imitation of the most beautiful stained glass

theres beauty in the way you whisper my name followed by the words not good enough

your body is colored in someone else's fingerprints and i've been burning my hands to shape mine in just that way

kiss my lips until they crack like the sidewalks of the city that we used to dance in

bare feet on dashboards, cigarettes in your mouth, and hands around my neck: a list of things that make the most sense

a sunset reflecting off a mirrored building, eyes watered down until dark blue is nothing but the color of blue jeans

thunderstorm veins and lighting in my skin as my jaw becomes a platform for your kiss

your eyes are pools of holy water, but my lungs are full and I've been drowning for quite a long time now
im not really sure what this is xoxo
Sarah Apr 2014
in distant memories, i can almost see you.
thoughts as put together as a cracked mirror,
a playground of stone
but still!
hands clasp hands, reminding my brain of times when fingers lace together, a shoelace of skin and bones and veins.
Breeze blows hair an ocean lapping between toes or
crumbs spilled from mouths, spread like sand over the sidewalk-
a city of castles and sky
Let my chest speak for me, opened, splayed, and displayed like an exhibit
use your fingers and trace from rib to rib and read the story i push so far back into the grain of my bones
a frightened girl, so distant  and unknown
*much like the sea she was born from
Next page