Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
  Apr 2015 em
Natalie
do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.
  Apr 2015 em
Tyler Durden
I need you out of my head and in my bed
  Apr 2015 em
Javaria Waseem
You ask me about these reckless teenagers?
Let me tell you what you don't know about them.
They are broken. Broken and used over and over again.
Still they are young at hearts and ready to risk everything that's left of them.
They are immature yet their stories will make you feel like some seventy year old
for they have more to tell than you. They might not have seen this world
but they have felt it with all their hearts
and they have tasted young love on the tips of their tongues in those dark rooms with the scent of whiskey.
"Irrational." you say? Love does not need any eyes to see.

You ask me about these reckless teenagers?
Let me tell you that they have nothing ahead of them
yet they have their whole lives planned out joining the stars at night
stupid it may seem but your reality is a non-existent dot in front of their dreams
and they look useless wasting their times but listen to them once. I dare you. Listen to them and you'll realize
what a different universe lies inside them.
Their words will take you places and you'll lose yourself to their tales.
Tales that are from all over the world, about every different tribe, with a new character every time.

You ask me about these reckless teenagers?
Let me tell you that they won't give up. They won't sit back
they are like a huge clan and they are ready to live. Live not just survive.
They are the bad fish that ruins the whole pond yet still are sold in the highest price.
They will not leave any empty gaps rather they will leave a whole legacy behind.
And their death won't be saddening for anyone. Not you. Not me. Not themselves even.
Their death will be like a celebration. Like fireworks in the night sky.
Yes, that's right. Their deaths will be the marking of another great life.

You ask me about these reckless teenagers?
Let me tell you what you don't know about them.
Look at their smiles and then peak inside.
Sir, I bet you, you'll feel like a little child.
I have come across some great teenagers with extra-ordinary gift to write. And their words are far better than anyone for what they write is raw and open. There are no lies in it.
This is dedicated to all those reckless souls out there.
em Apr 2015
My heart is weak,
It cannot and must not bare the truth before it breaks.
You don’t have to say it,
I know you don’t love me, I know you never did.
You feed on lies and deceit,
On people’s grief and pain.
You play with broken hearts and for one brief moment,
Mend the broken.
A face full of joy is your toy,
And a face full of tears is something you broke.
A trail of broken hearts is what you leave behind,
And a face full of tears pleading your return is what’ll follow you behind.
Love is a word of which you never knew the meaning of,
And tears are the reward for first place of the game you play.
Your words are like a forest where I instantly got lost,
Your heart is like a throne tantalizing in every sense.
Beating within the womb,
You bring me back to life just to **** me once again.
Your lies are like a maze which I cannot find my way out of,
But knowing that among this labyrinth you’re lost as well,
Gives me a sense of shredded fear.
You’ll try to use me to find your own way out,
As though you cannot find a way out of your very own trap.
I know I’m going to fall,
but not as hard as you.
And even if I did,
I can still lift myself up
And you can’t.
You have too many lies holding you back.
Your lies hurt so many people,
But only made them stronger.
The one and only person who you had at death is
You.
And though It shouldn’t,
It breaks my heart to see that a person who forgot you
Is one I’ll never be.
  Apr 2015 em
Javaria Waseem
She's a poem that I like to read over and over again on these lonely nights when I have nothing else to do.
I have her best verses tattooed on my skin in form of scars that I can't remove.
And whenever I am kneeling in the pool of my own tears, she's the prayer that I only know.

She's a poem that I like to read over and over again till I lose myself into the words that were once mine but no more.
Next page