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10.5k · Sep 2016
Luisa C Sep 2016
i'm taking in your scent that still lingers against my hands
before i go to sleep,
to remind me one last time of the day i had with you,
and to pretend you're here whispering goodnight
with soft protective arms wrapped around me.
7.6k · Sep 2016
Luisa C Sep 2016
I do not want to feel the pain of missing you.
I don't want to walk to the end of my street without a hand to hold, and I don't want to stare at sunsets alone.
I don't want to sit next to an empty swing at the parks we roamed, and I don't want to only bid you goodnight through meaningless letters.
I don't wish to seek the comfort you bring, and the dull ache that follows when you can't. I don't wish to be so dependent on your presence.
I do not want to love you in the way not spending time with you stakes me.
But I still love you in the way missing you means ultimate sadness.
4.0k · Aug 2016
Luisa C Aug 2016
i wish i could forget my regrets as fast as i make them.
i wish i could end my sadness as fast as it stakes me.
i wish the sky above could change to black and put a stop to the thoughts as i succumb to sleep.
i wish i fell asleep as fast as i crave sleep in the morning, waking,
i wish.
and i can only do just that.
3.8k · Sep 2016
Luisa C Sep 2016
I’m just a more miserable version of myself
and my pen is my weapon that it uses,
Leaking out the gas I consume
and fogging the paper with words of death.
It carves out my pain to a permanent grave,
doing the bleeding for me,
slashing across the page; ink runs,
tears run, but I
can’t run.
3.3k · Dec 2016
Luisa C Dec 2016
am i scared of living without you,
or just scared of being alone
2.8k · Apr 2016
certain afternoons.
Luisa C Apr 2016
belong to me.
not the house that puts
a thousand miles between;
allows just a few hours seen,
of a cautiously passionate dream.
so i suggest the whisper of more hours to spare
is the only lie you need speak.

the bus ride home must be lonely.
be back in the arms of my sheets,
playing with the edges of my clothes,
with my heart's speed.

link your hands in a new home
and lock your eyes with mine
and throw away the key.
belong to me.
2.5k · Oct 2016
my neighbour depression.
Luisa C Oct 2016
My new neighbour depression,
lives in a house rotting in the ground,
scarred wood torn away and roof tiles scattered,
with garden flowers withering away,
trees cracking at the slightest move of the wind.
Ever since he moved in a storm cloud
hangs low over the neighbourhood,
soaking my lawn and treading on my grass.
My neighbour depression
throws heavy stones to crack my windows,
leaves untidily scrawled messages of hatred in my letterbox,
leaving a trail of black paint up to his backgate.
My neighbour depression
takes advantage of my protection of thin walls,
and each day attempts to crash through them like a wrecking ball,
slowly dimming my lights and making shadows in my room
appear darker and bigger.
My neighbour depression
walks down the street like a black hole,
******* out all the sound around him.
And my neighbour depression
is starting to make me forget what my voice sounded like.
2.4k · Nov 2016
Luisa C Nov 2016
am i sad enough to miss you
or am i missing you enough to be sad?

l . c
2.3k · Aug 2016
Luisa C Aug 2016
this place is a cage and full relaxation is an air of mist in the distance
and why must my hands be nets with too many holes so I cannot catch it?
1.4k · Jun 2016
Luisa C Jun 2016
How can you hold the very makings of disaster?
How do you ease yourself in finding trouble to hold onto?
You are gripping the hands that once
fumbled for a tearing of skin,
bore blood at the fingertips,
greeted the brick wall with excitement and shattering
my numbness along with it.
What comfort do you seek in weaving your fingers
with ones that tugged desperately on hair
and swept away floodgates of water from tired eyes,
proving to me I was weakened once again?

But I look down at the shaking documents of disaster
when your embodiments of happiness reach for them
and cover the wounds in an unhesitant embrace.
And I know those previous questions don't matter;
your infectious comfort of my hands rests in the palm
and spreads.

My hand is now only holding your hand.
And that's the only thing it should now do.
1.3k · Apr 2016
- renewed -
Luisa C Apr 2016
worn out leather heart
chipped glass lungs
with smoke glazing the crystal
and a death coated tongue

then suddenly a cotton candy gaze
i want to press my scarred hands
into the sinking softness
and overdue my stay

now the glass is thick
and the smoke isn't smoke
but the second hand air i breathe
to fill my veins with ecstasy

and i don't fall on your lips
because you've broken my falls
you simply catch me
so no more am i broken at all
1.2k · May 2016
Luisa C May 2016
people are prone to telling me the same joke over and over again
though the only thing that i find funny is that i can't remember its punchline
maybe it's because i try so hard to forget
what i've become.
1.2k · Apr 2016
Luisa C Apr 2016
Life is but a pair of dice
tumbling aimlessly across the board,

with the absence of fate indulging
in its residents' free choices.

And luck is mere smear of hope
desperate enough to illusion us.
844 · Nov 2016
Luisa C Nov 2016
I wish my head would stop turning in the direction of my phone,
waiting with batted breath for the writing of text, an indication you're still awake.
I wish I wouldn't fill up with overwhelming waters of disappointment,
because I already know that you won't reply.
I wish you would text me first because I don't want to seem clingy.
I wish I could stop my eyes from glancing at your name every five seconds,
wishing it was a name belonging to a person I didn't want to need.
I wish I didn't miss you so late at night.
793 · Sep 2016
from the back of my mind
Luisa C Sep 2016
i shall remain as a hidden piece of a puzzle,
puzzling myself to pieces on why storms
swirl daily around the absence of my brain.
and on this rainy friday afternoon it should be no different;
wondering how i came to be, perched away
in the back of the room to watch a flood of unfamiliar smiles.
when did i become so lonely and outcast?
the dread of not liking most of the people i'm around dawns
and my jagged edges of a puzzle piece emphasise.
i do not fit with these people. they are
too sure on their happiness.
780 · Nov 2016
Luisa C Nov 2016
gather up all the colours of your life,
hold on to your collection of stars,
so when the world decides to turn grey,
you can still find your rainbow in the sky,
no matter how dim the beam may be.
752 · Apr 2016
yarn (haiku)
Luisa C Apr 2016
Rolling ball of yarn
Sometimes just too hard to catch
Even for leaping cats

- l.c
Luisa C May 2016
The closet in the dim isolated room
Stores away so many of my bones
That store too many secrets for the
Weak hearted,
So each week I’m parted from demons
That are a part of too much of me.

But I can never see the difference, my two sides won’t show it.
It does so little to comfort me; what have I become?
Am I the walking dead and a watcher of the funeral of my smiles,
Whose continuous lives and illness discomfort and confuse all?
Am I fast asleep when dreams of a peaceful life take over?
Because I awake to find that I’m too stripped back and empty to find anything to give,
A signal I care, or knowing something has shifted
A tectonic plate in my brain,
Erupting the series of footsteps to the door
Of the insane, knocking furiously enough to break it.

The desperate pull of the veil over my mind
Disguises it as curtains for a show, a grand act.
I am the star of the leading role, too centred, too vain,
Perfect to match the unmatched mess I feel every day.
The genius illusion is that am I really acting?
Even I do not know.
The stage is my war zone; no man’s land,
Because I am obviously not human,
And I cannot let anyone else in.
It's bad comedy of a pathetic attempt at drama
For anyone willing to tolerate my oh so called woes.
I choke on the mixture of laughter and tears
I collect in a cracking overflowing jar and drink,
Getting intoxicated on my pity, and hazy on the self-mocking,
Gurgling manipulations of sharing the side dish
But also shoving away any takers.
I am greedy - I want it all to myself.

And to myself it shall remain.
I buy all the tickets and keep them to remind myself
How my dim isolated room shrinks with each entry,
How I refuse to give out any more keys.
Maybe the walking dead is what I am;
Surely life is not this lightless when it is lived.
At least I hope not.
750 · Apr 2016
Luisa C Apr 2016
i have grown so cold
i'm used to drowning alone
don't try to save me
overboard i will go
and i'll never come home

[l . c]
722 · Apr 2016
Luisa C Apr 2016
You need not fear the night
And its sky dipped in darkness
For there still exists the light
Poked through the cloaked canvas

Little pinholes of stars to see through
And touch what still remains;
A shine of something hopeful
No matter how far away
716 · Jun 2016
Luisa C Jun 2016
inhale emptiness,
exhale loneliness.
walls don't come with ears but
the feeling of madness as my crackling voice
bounces off of its dead cold surface,
filling the space with my desperate words,
and reminding me of the prisoner i am.

inhale dread,
exhale panic.
lungs don't fill with air but the torrent of ***** water
to leave me shaking and unclean, ease only arriving
when wondering if a rope around my neck
would hurt less than the thoughts cramming,
screaming in my head.

inhale smoke,
exhale death.
the candle of my soul is melting,
the last weak flames flickering against my unfeeling skin
and releasing the ashes through my veins.
set me free, set me free, set me

but i can find a door within my cell,
or crash through it like a warrior.

but water can clear lands and clean hands,
washing away the pain with calming ocean waves,
flooding my eyes with newly made life.

but the fires can warm up my numb surface
and light my way out of the dark.

inhale hope,
708 · Oct 2016
Luisa C Oct 2016
I will learn how to swim.
I will steady my breaths and relax my aching chest,
my hands cupping the water in a loving embrace.
The rough waves will not frighten me away,
I will view them as inviting to splash in.

I will learn how to ease my arms
and kick my legs through powerful torrents,
not stopping even when crashes of blue stake me,
even when the pain runs throbbing through my body.

I will learn how to conquer the storm
and be one with the fish,
unafraid and invincible
through the sharp broken shells,
swimming towards the light of the underneath corals.
I will pass ships with pride and be brave enough to close my eyes,
using the sea as my resting pillow.

I will learn how to swim.
And against the waves I will win.
Luisa C May 2016
It’s amusing to think how we use words everyday
Though it’s the unseen that says the most, the unsaid
That screams the loudest
The mouths of today focus on feeding upon reciting Facebook feeds,
The latest most liked tweet,
The filters for your selfies – the perfect painted veil for a background of a thousand shattered china plates,
Which you become the moment the day is done, the stitching of your smile
Sighing with relief, unraveling as only your diary fills with the truth from shaking wounded hands that once again tried to stop a plate from chipping,
Only your bedroom wall goes through its weekly routine of watching every tear fall.
And you see that same wall everywhere, blocking you from people,
Lowering the volumes of your pleads, you don’t want them to see you’re in need – you can’t.
The mask that blinds them has no opening for a mouth
You’ve become a clown, jokes automatic, juggling your struggling in one hand, the other
Straining around your new best friends’ claws: misery, isolation,
Emptiness overfilling, desperation for an exit sign over spilling
But silence is a killer, why let it continue killing?

Consider the conscience crowded with a clutter of crazies
Though tongues only dotted with declarations of sanity.
The way we communicate has become a prison cell with too many corners and no windows,
The sounds of our own cracked, empty voices bouncing back at us
The limit of 140 soulless, expressionless characters has shut us up and in,
The embodied pill of forgetfulness on how to pick the lock
And open up to get help, to admit a smile’s fake.
But has the rain of melancholy and judgment rooted our feet to its wet earth?
We, the raindrops, laughing, “get over it” with each pitter as we’re soaked
“She’s so emo” – that’s easy to say,
It’s not like we’re humans with these things I guess are called feelings.
It’s comments like these that stop us –
To understand the truth we have to seek for it, not hide it, shove it away because it’s too frightening to bare, to finally confront the hidden scars people wear
Sadness has become a much too common name, and yet no one can place its face – it’s that one post no one likes to share.
And I see a continuing suffocating aisle of different bedroom walls and want to break down each one.
Ignoring isn’t the solution, smiling is an illusion, so don’t mistake silence for pleasure when someone has become a victim of our weather.
We have to learn how to open up again, free what’s inside to unleash our true spoken minds
Hold a hand instead of a phone for a change, to make a change
And maybe you’ll also make a real sunny smile overcome the rain.
this is what i wrote for the slam poem assignment in my english class last year.
660 · Aug 2016
Luisa C Aug 2016
They use soft gentle tones,
as if the scream of already known truth
is feared to burst my eardrums
and shatter my seemingly delicate china glass
of a soul.
I am not as broken as they think I am.
My mind may be frayed in places but
never do the patches become too worn and the seams
unravel and burst against my will.
They can throw all their unintelligent thoughts at me
and mistaken my non-catching for clumsiness.
But I have myself by my side and that is all that is needed.
Pity is a misguide and a sentence of the weak,
and I know I am better.
They are wrong, and
I am strong.
660 · May 2016
Luisa C May 2016
I'd like to dissolve in legends and myths,
Including the cosmic swirl within.
My fingertips, with light they rage,
I spin the planets at a steady pace,
My skies a canvas of gleaming futures and hopes.
I am mystery, I am beautiful;
No tearing comet will brings me tears,
And I know many things without the existence of fear.

This is all I know:
I know this is a tale.
I am devoid but of a void,
An empty black hole
******* up all that shines.
The stars are dying and burning up early
And the world, I cannot control.

Because my sun's days end too soon
And quickly sets to rise the moon,
And the golden rays meet their doom.
The universe is not mine to keep.
It is merely there to show me all
I cannot do.
651 · Apr 2016
galaxy park
Luisa C Apr 2016
driftwood floating
amongst the sea of
fast asleep smiles
composing the ripples
of loving warmth
a lulling wafture
to the face of
galaxy park awaits and
in my dream
and i arrive at
624 · Oct 2016
i once had a teacher
Luisa C Oct 2016
i once had a teacher say to the class "use this free time to space out"
and i couldn't help but laugh and wonder
the dangers of that activity once i ventured into the depths of my mind.
see, a good idea that was not for me.
i've spent enough countless moments and wasted time in my own head to memorise how skipping away into it went.
you do not skip, first off; a tightening rope bounds your legs and demands you to stumble into an endless pit.
rain plummets like bombs upon your unfeeling grey skin,
and a dark shadow's sharp nails dig into your chest
and leave a gaping hole, unwilling to be fulfilled.
your throat closes like the door behind you, so there's not escape,
no screams ready to echo off your prison cells walls,
no hands steady enough to reach out for an exit,
just the blind mistake of opening up a trapdoor,
like an alleyway where you live in fear of each corner you turn into,
and falling into the arms of laughing silhouettes of embodied tears,
whispering lies of how you'll be safe with them,
dimming the light and muting all sounds until
only your thoughts can keep you company,
burning static and fuzzy against your aching brain,
and handing you the long list of reasons
why a smile shouldn't be on your face.
so teacher, may i laugh again at the suggestion,
and shake my head in disagreement,
because believe me,
i do not want to live through that
Luisa C Jul 2016
How would it be to walk amongst the soft summer grass
tickling at our bare feet playfully?
To weave around the sprouting trees and hear the crunch of leaves
as the sun beams down its heat?
Your eyes would be lanterns,
guiding me when the dark cloak of night
envelopes us in a warm embrace;
your laugh echoed melodies of ringing bells
as we started our race across golden fields, under the sky,
to wink back at the specks of shiny pearl,
to lay underneath the windmill and hear the rush,
the blow of air through our dancing hair,
even the ticking clock not handing us a care.

But. . .would you stay in time to see the leaves change,
waltzing with melancholy droning across the front porch
where memories lay splattered in drops of rain
or in black-painted tears of pain
as the trees would give us one final wave
before shrivelling back into their flooded graves?
Why would it be so, or do I really want to know
why you would leave me frostbite in the snow,
waiting for the hail to overtake me,
for the sharp slap of reality to stake me.
the clouds hang low, sagging on their tears, as it all settles;
we are broke from the seasons, parted by this cold wall
that I want to take down brick by brick,
but my hands are numb, fog too thick.
It clouds the pathway in my mind where I recall
those beloved summer days I achingly long to return to,
for the sunshine and sparkling smiles of you;
but you broke the rules of the game, ran too far
to disappear in the dark out of sights from my heart,
and all that time I sat in solitude, in bitter waiting,
when I should’ve known our days were fading.

So, I really must ask, how it would it be to walk
once again with you upon soft summer grass?
If only we could make it last,
but I’m not longer stuck in the past.
How would it be, I am forever pondering,
if you didn’t run away so far, so fast?
eh why not share an old one this time
603 · Sep 2016
to be in love.
Luisa C Sep 2016
To be in love is to be sad,
when your side doesn't meet mine in bed,
when a message sent stays unread,
when not even a day with you fulfils
the ever filling cup of need I have for you.

To be in love is to be scared,
if this time is the last to hold your hand,
if you've had a change of heart,
if you're not sharing enough of what
I want to give to you.

To be in love is lonely,
thinking of all the time lost when it's not shared with you,
wanting to slip in the bodies of other people you talk to,
just so I can be close and never miss out on you.

But to be in love is to be comforted,
a reassuring shoulder for tears to splatter on,
a lantern in the dark, a hose to the fire;
to be in love is to smile, to free the mind and soul,
to entwine heartbeats even when days grow old.
To be in love is to be fearless.

To be in love with you
is worth it.
592 · May 2016
Luisa C May 2016
strip my mind bare. beneath the layers
a caged thought lies, aching to linger
upon my tongue, under your skin.

i keep my light open at night
in hopes of seeing you here,
meanwhile your name runs in ink
down pages of fluttering paper wings
my heart does hold dear
when you're discovered near.

your galaxy of smiles flood my mind's corners
and soothes worries with calming swirls. you are
the fringes of muse,
faint freckles of music,
pieced together with a bow of string,
and you are my present.

and you are the only present wanted,
and the only future seen.
the only thing, that i need.


[ l . c ]
585 · Nov 2016
tonight's thoughts...
Luisa C Nov 2016
sometimes i do not know where my life is heading,
where the roads are leading me.
i know my mind travels through space and time,
through shining galaxies of wonder and ripping black holes,
meeting at the ends of the earth with a crashing wave.
but i do not know whether there is a lighthouse nearby,
whose light shines me a way out of the dark,
pointing to a place where i can rest my aching bones.
i do not know which colour my soul is yet,
still picking away at the palettes that change every day.
sometimes i do not know whether to laugh or cry,
and why sometimes it is best to do both.
sometimes i feels stuck, like a box has caved in on my surroundings,
metal, not cardboard, so even the mightiest of pokes can't break its surface.
sometimes i feel time draining away from me,
slipping through even the tightest of grasps of my fingers,
disappearing like an air of smoke in a misty lake,
and i cannot swim fast or hard enough to catch it.
and sometimes i feel like i am wasting my life,
and the smiles, real and pure, of everyone i meet, determine one thing:
they are using their time wisely, happily.
thoughts of storms do not linger in their brain long enough to shatter the roof and let raindrops pour down their eyes.
and i don't know whether to feel jealous or sad,
or cast feelings away altogether until i am nothing but a shell.
but most of the time, i do know for sure,
i am just always unsure on how to feel.
579 · Apr 2016
Luisa C Apr 2016
i know nothing more than the
crippling weight of my self hate
the familiar bitter taste of pity
i spit out in doses as i laugh in mockery
but this time i could learn
how to sink into someone else this time
learn to unpick their seams
to crumble and unravel and fall apart for me

i am burning inside.
don't get too close, you'll feel the scorching heat,
the flames that flicker warning you of the ash to come
i beg you to run away yet strain my hand tighter around yours
(fingertips blackened; a mirror to the soul)
while certain a finger of two is breaking, and not stopping.

i am the embodiment of hurt.
i'm a mess of splattered nonsensical pain
i want you to hate me yet i do not want you
to hate me
or leave me.
i want to leave the fire started in my chest
spreading its destruction
but that would be the desire for something impossible
and that is laughable. like me.
like you ever loving me properly.

because no matter how many salty tears i cry
the pathetic attempt to calm the flames
i only create an ocean we both drown in
i am the anchor to your sinking  bombed ship
pulling you down with me
i am the coat i never want you to take off
even though the heat is overwhelming.
and i want to keep you safe from me
but in my mind, the thought concludes to the action
of adding more layers.
and then the seams

i am sorry you love me.
an example of one of my typical run-on-sentences pieces during a time my mind is a messy storm of complex thoughts and it's almost 2 in the morning and editing it will take out the extent and rawness and sincerity of it to me so yeah here you i guess a rambling of my stripped back brain (this included)
563 · Oct 2016
1 am
Luisa C Oct 2016
your hands feel like fireplaces in mine,
and the bed is an ocean for us to float upon,
coiled around each other like colourful bits of ribbon,
lips connected with a single effortless touch
and skin shaking under wandering fingers.
i open myself up to you like a galaxy,
and even though the room is a dim spotlight,
i see you make up all the shine of the stars.
and though sleep lies heavy amongst the world,
and night has now rolled under,
you are my sky of suns, my favourite memory,
wrapped up in the sweet essence of us.
i would rather time stutter on its breath,
so i could relieve this moment in your arms
til my dying day.
557 · Dec 2016
Luisa C Dec 2016
be careful with who you put your heart on your sleeve for;
they might accidentally crush it when reaching for your hand.

l . c
Luisa C Jun 2016
i cannot do.
make do i cannot.
to understand what makes only my surroundings happy.
what wrong keeps returning inside of me to leave me out?
envy those lucky and careless, i do, for i cannot
do no more than merely wish for a smile to spread,
not the numbness weighing down my chest, flooding the gateways of my veins with its poison like wet black paint.
i do not want to make this all i know;
its familiarity scares me.
what am i missing out on?
when sad longing eyes scan from the corner
over the strangers i do irritate myself seeing,
the fault in isolating myself is clear.
finding too many flaws and reasons to
throw away the key of eternal joy.
why do i do this to myself, thinking about
how upsetting it is that i find it sad how
i am not alive only in dreams.
my mind begs me to stop all this from happening.
it needs a get out jail card, but unfortunately these types
do not come for free.
because i cannot always feel what others feel.
i am cast out from having too much fun,
and jealousy accomplishes so little.
but indulge in too much pity i refuse.
the universe doesn't care about anyone
it does not keep promises for anyone.
believing in its reliability to keep you feeling
wanted, and with purpose and worth
is not worth it.
it does not stop for anyone
especially not to make sure i am feeling okay
on this gloomy monday morning.
i would rather be anywhere else.
493 · Dec 2016
still but moving.
Luisa C Dec 2016
it's strange the rides your mind partakes in while it sits still in your head.
i am unmoving, staring at the endless rows of grey spotted ceiling tiles from a bed, while my mind cartwheels and bursts into flames, cosmic colour, ribbon dancing through its many seasons during my quiet sit down. it swims through galaxies with graceful strokes, leaping joyfully into nebulas and leaving behind a shimmering trail of sparks. it speaks in starlight and dances hand in hand with planets.
the peaceful space of the space in my mind
bursts to life.
this is probably messy sorry
487 · Apr 2016
Luisa C Apr 2016
   shuddering night, gentle callings,
   dim light, reckless
   identical, yours&mine.;

(fireplace room)
   trembling fingers, tracing
   soft skin, mapping each galaxy:
   beauty, depth.
   mystery, now

(roped eyes)
   shaking breath, light brushes
   over laced fingers,
   heavy ripples in its wake.

   floating gracefully upon
   tender star-filled seas,
   pulling me under,
   shaken breath taken;
one of those simple but not simple poems done in the early dark hours of morning.
484 · Aug 2018
last night.
Luisa C Aug 2018
I thought of you again last night.
Dooming myself to repeat the mistake
of revising the memory of a muted light,
our quickened breaths, our hearts on fire.
I visioned a fantasy of you last night,
where my house is empty and silent,
and the heat tells the truth of what I really want to do,
taste the lips that once belonged to me so violent.
I hated you again last night
for how you make me so vulnerable to miss
a body to hold next to me in bed
the countless times you gave me bliss.
The times when the aching of my heart only meant
I had too much love to share,
and not the selfish need of wanting to feed,
to lust and touch and cast away cares.
I thought of how late in the night
our new year's day dance is not all I want back,
I want the comfort of your smile as you so confidently say
you love me like you did on a now distant day.
But I thought of you again last night
in the only way I know how to,
shedding the meaning of my lonely pain
for a momentary passionate touch of you.
I thought of you again last night
and promised myself this time was the last,
for I cannot spend the night longing for a kiss
I know I will never get back.
483 · Apr 2016
too human.
Luisa C Apr 2016
oh what trouble it is
such a shame
trying to place two lips
to align perfectly
they are not of the stars' magic
the cosmos of flawlessness
they are simply too
475 · Apr 2016
Luisa C Apr 2016
I'm on a slow moving train
Rickety, unsafe; chugging desperately.
Swaying under constant beating rain,
And I sit trapped and sick in pain.

Empty compartments, curtains torn and charred,
Boarded windows, seats worn and scarred
And there's a lock on the door
Where laughter and chatter flitter from the walls;
It becomes louder when we pass
The graveyard

The smoke from the screeching wheels
Dances its sinister rise, and is all that I breathe;
I choke on the fog and water fills my vision
People mistake the invisible devil for air.

And I think, what's scarier?
A train going nowhere with no destination
With my ticket lasting a lifetime
Or a train with an eventual
dead end.
train metaphor depression misery imagery
471 · Oct 2016
Luisa C Oct 2016
i'm not sure how to not feel like i've forgotten how to breathe
when i think of how you're having fun without me,
and the lost time you could be spending with me
wasted on other people.
it's selfish jealousy that riddles me with a heavy chest,
teary eyes, and it's pathetic.
but i love you to the point it hurts,
to the conclusion that i don't want anyone else in your presence.
but for now i'll stare silently at my wall,
trying to pretend i don't know you,
and trying desperately not to flood myself with
mindless wanting.
i miss you.
and i'm trying not to hate you for my own selfish reasons.
457 · Apr 2016
Luisa C Apr 2016
a blanket of galaxy
tucks me in with a warm breath
sending ripples through its sky
waving hello at me
the stars twinkle their acknowledgement
and i know for tonight i'm not alone

the rain is a gentle drum on my face
a memory shocker of what it is
to feel, to live
the clouds part their curtains
allowing me a part of their hug
and i know for tonight
i'm not alone
457 · Jun 2016
anti depressant
Luisa C Jun 2016
i cannot be your anti depressant.
i cannot transform into a warm blanket
every time you feel the cold.
i cannot seep into your veins and rest
underneath your scarred skin.
not all promises can be kept and
i am only trying to speak the truth.
try to understand i have my own demons to tame.

don't make your happiness so dependent
on my rise out of bed in the morning.
don't rely so much on this frail veiled soul
to mend each broken piece of yours
while i'm still only trying to kick myself out
of my own shark infested seas.
the speaking of pure fantasy only assures me,
i will soon be suffocated by your adding of more water.

you cannot intend on making me your hero.
you cannot be fixed by these clumsy hands that
can't always be there in time to hold yours.
so please. i am only human.
you have to save yourself.
because i can never be your anti depressant.
432 · Dec 2016
11:33 pm
Luisa C Dec 2016
don't just give yourself a planet or a star.
give yourself a whole galaxy,
be every swirl of cosmic matter you can find,
and never let a black hole
take away your shine.
inspired by something i saw.
427 · Nov 2016
how to take care part 2
Luisa C Nov 2016
take time learning all the sides of your soul.
be gentle with your hands as you rest them assured on yourself,
be loving with your heart to your mind.
be careful on the stepping stones, waves underneath might crash
and keep you off course.
think about what stops you from sleeping at night, and
why your bed keeps you trapped in the morning.
life may not always be a rainbow,
but neither does the colour black stick permanently to your canvas.
learn to paint it with as many shades as you can;
you control the brush.
note to self: don't generalise life.
421 · Aug 2016
Luisa C Aug 2016
the broken pieces of your promise shatter through my fingers and leave them red.
red for the anger beneath the scattered glass.
and if you think it's red for the passion, you're only right about one thing;
it's flowing and disappearing down the drain faster than the bullet you sent whizzing through my heart.
420 · Oct 2016
Luisa C Oct 2016
if this is love then it is both selfish and selfless.
i am selfish because thinking of you spending and enjoying time with other people can't help but stake me.
i am selfish for wanting you all to myself.
i am selfish for getting suicidally jealous.
but i am selfless for wanting to give every part of me to share with you,
like a jigsaw puzzle waiting desperately to be complete.
is love a synonym for pain?
why is it often associated with happiness when it is mostly the opposite?
why must love come with a risk of broken hearts and no cure,
with dangers and stepping stones made of land mines,
days filled with misery unpredictable?
love may be breathtaking, in both meanings:
it enchants you and it eventually kills you.
it drains you and it pains you.
it brings out the fool and whining and the mess,
and why must i get myself into this?
because love pulled me towards you.
a waste of time this may be but ignore the warnings i do,
for you make it worthwhile, the bitterness and jealousy,
an experience i'd rather not miss out on,
even if it ***** me dry from missing you all the time.
and am i filled with regret?
i think not.
402 · Apr 2016
Luisa C Apr 2016
Hand me a torch and a pair of gloves,
I’ll be shovelling through snow until dusk.
The ice in my mind slips me off path,
It’s dark and cold and windy, but I laugh,
Because winter can only last so long,
And I remember snow can be fun to play upon.
It’s thick but melts in puddles on the floor;
That’s what it usually takes, nothing less or more.

And I realize my strength doesn’t belong on the shore
Where the waves so easily take away the pain,
Rolls me under and hands me a slice of pride a day.
No, comfort is hard coming, and my shortness of breath
Leads me to know, my strength
Hasn’t yet met its death.
378 · May 2016
I don't want you.
Luisa C May 2016
I don't want you, I say
as I stare longingly at my screen for
a message to appear with a certain name
that does things to me.

I don't want you, I say
as the tips of my fingers tingle
and my heart becomes a drum,
the soundtrack to your entrance,
to the live wire my body becomes.

I don't want you, I say
as I surpress a cry
when your watchable lips mutter a bye
and I feel empty without a presence
of something I can't get myself to say,
is a pleasance

I don't want you, no, not at all
Not only because I can't admit it
(Too proud and afraid to say another person makes me whole
That I become needy without control)
But because that it's not true
I don't want you -
I need you, and
Owning you is all I think
I'm able to do
374 · Feb 2017
Luisa C Feb 2017
I want to find the words
to explain to you
how incomplete my heart feels
without the strings bounding yours to it
but how can I say anything
when I've realised I've lost something
I thought I knew,
even after all the time spent with them.

They're just another memory
made to be laid to rest and fade away.
It's hard to know I find myself not able
to say anything
to someone who I don't recognise,
someone who's now become a stranger to me
once again.
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