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4.5k · May 2014
Colors can Remind Me of You
asg May 2014
Blue
The color I always imagine your eyes to be
Same as the sea
And I'm always pleasantly surprised
When they're both bluer than
I'd dreamt they'd be
Blue
The predetermined color to represent sadness
But I like the color blue
More than I like being sad
The only thing about blue that makes me sad
Is not seeing it
Blue
You imagine the sky should be this shade
Yet are always shocked
When it blooms a magical purple at night
And turns the softest pastel pink
At dawn

Red
The known color of fear, it scares me also
Reminds me of bad things
Dreams soaked in red
Are never ones to be retold
Though it looks magnificent on brown skin
Red
Representative of love
Yet war
Maybe that's why love always turns bad
Why we can get so angry
With the ones we hold dearest
Red
Reminds me of sweet apples
And sweeter lips
Of harlot lips, like the one's on that girl
The one you left me for
That Saturday evening the sky was blue
2.8k · Mar 2014
Petals
asg Mar 2014
The skinniest tulip
Sways gently in a breeze
Comfortably and serene
Never does it ask why or how
It just knows that life is nice
And the sun is warm against it's growing leaves
Then a storm comes around
And the tulip finds a new emotion
Fear
And as she trembles she begins to wonder why
A sky that hung blue and brilliant above her
Decided to rain it's wrath down upon her
When she is innocent of anything
And though the tulip
Loses a petal that day
She's grown a little taller
That tulip continues to thrive that season
She gets very used to the rain and terror
So no longer does she ask why
But suddenly the winds get colder
And the tulip begins to wilt
With nothing to help her
As she spreads her leaf to the sky
She wonders
How a caring world
Could watch her die
Could see her helplessness
And seize to aide
Why Mother Earth, so prosperous and great
Let the tulip down that day
How something that helped her grow
That told her to always be strong
How
Could it let her down that way?
1.6k · May 2014
For @avxlanche
asg May 2014
Whipped through the crowd in a
Senseless tornadoes wrath
Head bangs and throbs with painful passion
For the rush received
Blurred are the lines
Between faith in you and leaping off this boat
Maybe the wind will catch me
Maybe it won't
Maybe the wind will swallow me down into it's perilous belly
Yes
That sounds more pleasant
1.2k · Jan 2014
Les Deux Amant (dialogue)
asg Jan 2014
V:** C'est la vie.

A: Vous croyez? Pourquoi?

V: Ma vie n'est pas belle.

A: Ouais? Je ne pense pas que moi-même. Vous êtes très belle, intelligente, et génial! Je t'aime beaucoup.

V: Oui, je le suis. Mais ma vie n'est pas. Vous voyez?

A: Je ne sais pas. Vous pensez trop petit de vous-même. Vous devez sourire.

V: Je pense que vous pensez trop haute opinion de moi.

V: Je t'aime.

A: Je t'aime aussi.
1.1k · Jul 2013
gone.
asg Jul 2013
you let him shower you with cheap pearls and fake diamonds.
you get excited like they mean something to you when you’d much rather be given
a book of his or a jar of sand from the beach he used to visit as a child.
something meaningful and true.
not a lame romantics idea of a present.
you want something real from him, just for once so you can say to yourself
and others
that you did not marry a narcissistic robot with preprogrammed methods of love.
but you never complain, not even once.
you just accept his presents with all the love you have and the biggest smile you can manage.
then one day the gifts stop coming.
he no longer drowns you in the beauty of plastic necklaces
and gold-plated rings.
half empty glasses of aged *** are scattered among-st the house
and you wonder why.
but you don’t ask because you figure its nothing to do with you.
missed kisses in the morning showing up late when he had plenty of time to be ready,
shades of lipstick that aren’t yours staining his shirt collars, yet you swear it has
nothing to do with you.
then one day you find him drunk and sweaty, spitting and screaming into the sky
like he’s possessed by a spiteful demon.
he curses the night all in italian,
beautiful
but terrifying at the same time.
you grab onto him only to have him shove you away.
hurt by the gesture you leave him to his woes
and try to forget the night by popping the biggest pill you can find
because having to deal with him then would be worth more
than cheap jewelry and heartache.
numbing sleep finds you.
the next day you finally decide to question him, to find out why he’s been acting
so distant like the last clouds after a torrent rain.
but before you can make a move he’s already made his.
you come home to find his bags packed and stacked high in the driveway.
now you’re asking why, you’re yelling and screaming
and tearing at his shirt, hands bent like claws.
and once more he shoves you away with the utmost disgust
plastered across his usually gentle expression.
you beg one last feeble time for an explanation.
and as he walks away
with no contempt for your well being, no care for your heart
he mutters words that make you coil with self hate and regret,
like a sucker punch to the gut.
as you bore holes into his back with your eyes, he grates
“I miss your Mona Lisa smile.”
asg May 2014
I've laid and watched you say things
I don't know what your smiles mean
I get lost when you talk
Whole years gone by
Yet our conversations still lack something
I don't understand your hesitance
To acknowledge what words I've said
To agree or disagree with them
Is all I've ever asked
I've never had my heart broken
Only my ego stroked and then shot down
But I suppose the hurt
Could be the same
All end with you playing games
A better friend I could have been
A friend at all I guess
What you consider me to be I cannot tell
Such is my everlasting hell
1.1k · Oct 2013
Tuesday Blues
asg Oct 2013
I am an exhalation
A never ending sigh
An exhortation of extreme exaltation
A breath that pulls you in
No longer are you restrained
By containing thoughts of not being near me
I understand fully, the power of my words
I know that my voice sometimes
Crashes onto your ears
Similar to how a maddening storm
Tosses the surf relentlessly to the shore
Breaking your peacelike conscious
Making you grate your teeth
Never has there been a worse sound, I assume
But just as the sea
I calm
And the sweet rush of my waves sweep over you
And now you see clear
I remember your eyes being the strangest shade of blue
Never was there an exact word to describe them
So I just deemed them Tuesday blue
A blue that is not crystal clear
But not foggy like how you feel
Crawling out of bed on a Monday morning
And not summery blue either, like how the sky always seems to be
on weekends
The blue of your eyes
That Tuesday blue
Is the blue you see when you leave for the beach
On an impulse
Just to free your mind and breathe
The blue you see as you gaze unto the magical horizon
Just where the sky and ocean meet
That is the color of your irises
That is the color of my personal love
What I dream about at night as my chest falls rhythmically
Like the soft down tempo
That's usually the background music to our very
Melodramatic lives
So stare at me with those Tuesday blues
And listen to me me exhale
I promise to never hurt you
I promise I'll never fail

  (if promises can be kept)
973 · Mar 2021
on how to make breakfast.
asg Mar 2021
spend the night sober and wake
up drunk, tangled in legs and sheets
giggle at his snoring until he
rolls over.

nuzzle that sharp point of his nose
and mumble words of
affirmation, breath warm and tingling,
raises the peach fuzz on ears.

get up and go to the kitchen
house shoes and robes? maybe it's
nice enough to open a window
or two, and you might burn the bacon so.

argue over who cooks. start grabbing
things out of the fridge: jam, eggs, butter
that's non dairy, and cheese that isn't
cause it just doesn't taste the same.

hold hands, place fingers on nape
of neck, squeeze, rub the small of his
back, tease his lips open for a taste
just a taste, maybe take a break in the foyer

get out two plates.
eat.
955 · Mar 2015
Insouciant Adolescents
asg Mar 2015
Insouciance
It drives reckless souls
Out into the night
Spreading their unruly plight
Knowing nothing of fear, only of fight
Irresponsibility is a term
Those of this heart know well
As it's screamed from rickety back doors
It's reek seeps through cracked floors
Gets pounded deep in their cores

They are taking over this world
928 · May 2014
For @sunflowered
asg May 2014
Gossamer
That's what her hair felt like
When she leaned over my body and
Rusty nails  
Is how her fingers felt
Trailing paths up my back and
Daises
That's what her breath smelled like
As she whispered love in my ear and
Sunflowers
Are what she looks like
When she smiles and I feel my heart collapse
864 · Dec 2013
Liquid Gold
asg Dec 2013
Under the shade of the Palm tree's
Shadows cast by the early evening sun
Relaxation
Contemplation
No worry on our exuberant minds
The kind of basking that makes your skin tingle
Every inch of nerve reacting
Dancing on end to this forbidden sunshine happiness
Light particles soaking into thin skin
Frying our bodies and minds but we don't care...
As long as we can feel it
We don't care
Rolling, laughing, tickling
Trying to get away while inhaling
Lung-fulls of sand
Sparkling like the last strong stars in the sky
The sunlight dances off our white teeth
Whites of our eyes watch the twinkling waves
Splash over and over each other
Making sweet music that no one but us can hear
Or understand
The feeling of freedom is here in these lands
Here in this hot sand
Burning our fingers and toes but we don't care
We never care
Endless possibilities
So many different lives lived
Under the tantalizing sun
Bright and effervescent
It explodes our excitement
Pummels us into a new level of joy
There is nothing like pure sunshine
Nothing on earth like that liquid gold
856 · Oct 2013
Dependency
asg Oct 2013
I can't decide whether it's your tone
our your tendency to be meaner than you truly are
                                                                                              that makes me want to help you
                                                                                                 makes me want to heal you
I don't know how or why but you've
consumed all of my attention
I don't want to wake up in the morning without
a thought of you
Do you know how it feels to be
dependent on another's presence?
Everyday I search endlessly for some sign
that you've seen me
recognized me
                                                                                               I can only deal with so much
Don't ever leave me.
799 · Jul 2013
She
asg Jul 2013
She
She is not a superhero
She is not a wonder
She is just a young woman
searching for the right words

She is not a villain
She is not a crime
She is just confused
looking for a way to buy her time

She is not a story
She can not be told
She just wants to be omniscient
knowing all there is to know

She is not a teacher
She is not a leader
She simply follows the tracks
that have been laid before her own feet

She decides her future
But not all on her own
Because she is not a god
Though she has a God of her own
724 · Jul 2013
PiCTUre perFECt lifE
asg Jul 2013
It's not the pieces of the puzzle that matter, but the way they fit together.
You can have the wackiest shape and fit it together
with another wacky shape and its perfect
because you're not really looking at a single detail
but the whole picture, when its finished.
Puzzles are the ultimate way to describe life, it’s phenomenal.
You've got those pieces that slide in perfectly and its awesome cause you
didn't have to try too hard to make it work.
And then there are those pieces that you can’t figure out just where they go,
but you hang on to them because you know they’re important
and you’ll need them later.
There’s also those one pieces, the ones you really need but can’t find.
You’re searching and scanning and tracing the full picture with your eyes
but you just can’t seem to find that one piece that fits.
BAM.*
That’s *life
right there.
There are things that come easy, not so easy, and things that are so hard
you just want to give up and throw it all away.
And the only thing that keeps you from doing that is
the strong possibility that the end picture will be perfect.
Or it might not be and that’s just fine… i mean,
who wants a picture perfect life anyways?
711 · Nov 2013
Dear Wallflower Child
asg Nov 2013
Wallflower child
Beautiful baby
You've yet to spread your wings and fly
Are you scared of the world around you?
Why?
Baby I won't lie, it can hurt you
It can **** you, truly
But you can't let that stop you
If you get sick you get cured
If you lose a job you find another
If you love and are broken in turn
You put those pieces back together
Why?
Because baby, you're strong
Baby you are amazing
Magnificent in your own ways
My pretty yellow infant you are the world
Even if you don't know it yet
So conquer it darling

*Spread your wings and fly
709 · Aug 2014
Moving On Vibes
asg Aug 2014
there was a time before I left the town we called home where I would visit you every day, repeatedly approaching you with a proposition to leave with me and never come back. you, being afraid of any change were always so quick to change the subject and it took all of my self-control not to scream at you “do you not love me?” over and over and over until the words were echoes in your head and then maybe you would listen to them. but I never did and that was what I congratulated myself on every morning I stood patiently on your doorstep, and every single **** time I left, I told myself what a wondrous person I was thinking only of you…knowing you wanted that and needed that because you were a self-centered hole and I was a gift basket. after a while I stopped visiting and then eventually I was gone and you were more than a memory but less than my past. the first few months we wrote letters twice a week and I congratulate us on that also because it meant we were taking time out of our lives to think of each other, and it did take time because your letters would be pages and pages long. but it couldn’t last forever and I wasn’t surprised when it became once a week and then once every two weeks and then by the tenth month of us writing letters I hadn’t gotten one from you for two months. so I sent back one letter on one piece of paper, cardstock, with one word spelt out in my best calligraphy with a pen my new boyfriend had bought me…I wrote goodbye and sent that letter to you. I’m hoping you realize that by me spending time writing that goodbye I still care about you, I still want you to think of me as a decent person and not awful ex you couldn’t stand. I don’t want your tongue and breath to go bitter when you say my name because someone who is not a close friend has asked of my whereabouts and you have to answer. I don’t want that but I suppose if that’s how you feel then I cannot change that mind of yours, because I’ve never been able to before. you are stubborn and I do not miss seeing you but I miss the sound of your easy breathing as we lay watching a movie. my new boyfriends breathing is too harsh and we do not watch movies we only *****. I guess it’s nice when he’s sleeping but he never wants to hold me “I’m too hot” is what he always tells me, trying to cover it up with a lilt in his voice like he means it as a compliment when I know he’s very serious. I don’t want you back so don’t think that to be the reason I’ve wrote you back after so long. I just happened along a shoebox full of these things and it made me wonder and it made me cry but I never felt fuller than when I covered that box in gasoline, lit it, and watched in burn fast in the parking lot of my new ex-boyfriends yard.
702 · Nov 2013
Dreamless
asg Nov 2013
I can't remember the last time
I dreamed
And that makes me sad
Almost nostalgic
For those days when my brain was too full
To not dream
Those days that marked me
Colored me full
Colored me pretty
And interesting
Like the pages of a printed
Special movie edition book
Now I'm more like
An old leatherbound cookbook
Beaten and worn from past usage
Torn pages
Yellowed corners
Used
But might as well be empty because I am used no more
Full of beautiful recipes and possibilities
But too weak and fallen apart
To be reconsidered
I can't remember the last time I laughed
With someone who understands me
With someone who couldn't say
"Oh that's so funny"
When I tell a joke that's not
And instead berates me
For being so lame
But in a loving way
But this does not make me nostalgic
Because you always find someone better
People come and go
So do dreams I suppose...

Somehow it's different
Somehow it's not the same
I need to have dreams to know I'm still alive inside
And people can only prove I've got a physical body
That's all
645 · Sep 2014
moonlight
asg Sep 2014
The difference between trusting you and letting go... quite like the difference between walking into an unknown dark house, and trying to find the kitchen or waking up at home to a Sunday morning breakfast. It's more than subtle, but less than drastic. I suppose if I could find a light switch along these black walls it would change our chances of survival but I never try hard at any kind of love because what's the guarantee of satisfaction? A little bit of wine to tide your feelings is how you medicate when you think I'm leaving for good, but something always brings me back and I find you drunk and dizzy laying face down on a mahogany wood floor in a house that's still dark except for the dim light of realization that's clicked on in my brain for the thousandth time. "I should go now" the voice in my head always calls out and ******* the day I listen to it because that may be the day I'm actually sane. But what's the joy of being sane if you're never happy? The difference between loving you and letting go is as big a difference as there is between the chances of me leaving you, 100-1, so I guess your odds are good. You could worry less about me leaving and more about how you're going to make me stay but honestly as long as you keep taking me to bed the way you do I don't see myself escaping this heaven anytime soon. Its a devil's curse the way my heart thumps rapidly from anticipation and fear whenever you're near me. So stop asking for differences and start looking for what's the same. Love will not be and has never been a game for me and I do not like playing around with such matters. So just love me now, please.
623 · Jul 2013
Money
asg Jul 2013
money is just paper,
but people react to it like poetry.
they work passionately,
dragging their hollow bones to work day in and day out,
aggressively striving to come out on top.
because at the top is more money
piled high like monastery of wealth.
clawing their way past others like animals of the lowest caste
trying hard to be the only ones.
so obsessed with status they lose the sight that gives them reason
when it comes to the compassion of human beings
"money is the devil"
but the devil is in us all
isn't that what they preach?
asg Jul 2013
I'm sad
But not in that way
I write to relieve my thoughts
Not my woes
I breathe
And my heart beats
I do not wish for either to stop
I am alone
But only from the cause of my own
I choose to do
the self-harming things I do
But I do not cut
I ride skateboards
And motorcycles
This is not a cry for help
Simply a look into the life of a loner
601 · Jan 2016
cosmogyral
asg Jan 2016
romance ruined love for me
strange fixations on a character hoping for him to sweep out from the pages of my favorite YA  and take me away from this
romance destroyed *** for me
expecting fireworks, but receiving dud firecrackers instead
I don't want to be your manic pixie dream girl or your brown-eyed savior
people don't fall in love with features, no boy will swoon over my freckles
dreams aren't reality but they help me escape when my heart is too full
and my mind is on repeat
what a crime it is to want love
but always feel like you can't be loved
how monstrous are our pleasantries
why be polite when you could just cut me down in three swift motions like a shriveled rose on your prized rosebush
you mistook my curling brown outsides for death but I am more alive than I have ever been
awareness is the most painful emotion awareness could break me down someday
more often than not I work to be perfect in his eyes but those eyes never see me
it isn't enough to call me pretty **** it I know that I am something to look at, a mural is something to look at
that's why we hang paintings in museums for all to see but that doesn't mean
we love each and every one
the same goes for my heart
touched by one
and God it's the worst to let yourself be used
romance ruined love for me
so romance is all a love
568 · Oct 2013
I Messed Up, Sorry
asg Oct 2013
goodness.
not that stuff that's in you, just the expression.
did you hear?
things have changed between us.
didn't you notice?
how could you be surprised?
i never let you think otherwise.
i'm bad for you.
don't you see that?
there's nothing that will change my mind, it's been made up.
i just want you to go.
**l    e    a    v    e
566 · Feb 2014
Deep
asg Feb 2014
You crawl under my skin & leave marks I can't erase & these layers separate me from relief. A bunch of broken glass in my body like the glass that crunched softly under my shoes when you pulled me by the whorf that day. But instead of the best night of my life I feel pain pain that deepens everytime you smile at me. Sandpaper rough hands & sticky tongues are an image of our past & now I don't even recognize the color of your eyes anymore. Make believing is a dangerous hobby & I lived that lifestyle with you but now the camera is back on & I figured out you have terrible stage fright. So now it's sweaty palms & clenched teeth that keep the anxiety real. Quick like how you used to be in conversations I am quick to leave & quick to find a new place to put a head that has been beaten & overused. Trouble finds you & trouble is leaving you now & I'm sorry you have the worst luck with vixens like us. But your words cut into my skin & imbedded themselves there & now every time I lay down my body it whispers to me the same things. Every time I shower the words are magnified into shouts & I feel trapped in this body you left. I wonder lots of nights whether going back to you will solve my issues. Then I just go back to sleep.
564 · Jul 2015
Untitled 1-5
asg Jul 2015
1.** black coffee

lipstick stains I always have to clean,
not from mugs
but
from his shirt collars when I forget the cream
“Two creams babe. Why is it so
******* hard to remember two creams?”
I don’t have an answer so
I continue to scrub the lipstick stains and
swear I’ll get it right
He’s messing up worse, no one is keeping count
So I swear I’ll get it right

2. wrinkled shirt sleeves

my favorite time is
in the morning before he’s up
when I get to take time and iron his works clothes
Today is not one of those times
He’s up early, and he’s risen irritated
He has a meeting
he told me, I needed to wake him up early
I forgot
He grabs his shirt and pants
whining incessantly about the shirt sleeves
I missed them because I was
not finished
He doesn’t care, “You’re worthless, so why should I be surprised?”
I don’t leave the bathroom all day

3. dog-eared pages

sometimes,
he has to “work late”
and I get time to myself
I’ve been reading a memoir about Vivaldi
I flip to find the most recently creased page
and settle into the soft couch
He thinks it is ridiculous and childish
that I don’t use a bookmark
I told him it makes the books
just that much more personable
He isn’t one for sentiment so
he laughs
and asks if I want him to pick me up one on his way back from work
I don’t say yes, but I don’t say no either
The bookmark he bought me
makes a really nice
coke liner

4. ivory piano keys

when I was younger
before the addiction
I played piano
In the basement of my great aunts
four story Victorian
sat the most elegant baby grand
it was out of tune, and dusty
but that never stopped me
from clunking out thunderous melodies
and driving the cats insane
now, in the emptiness of this apartment
I dream of that piano
it’s long white keys and low, low seat
I hear its music
never a note right but
it never sounded sweeter

5. crooked lip liner

“we’re going to be late to the banquet, babe.”
erratic nodding, yes yes yes I know but
I’m shaking again
he knows why he always he knows
“I need more.”
I don’t say of what, he knows
there’s no time is what he tells me
I know that but
god, I can hear my heartbeat in my ears
ragged breath and it feels like my skin wants
to be separate from my body
I hate when I’m like this
he’s so responsible
I hate him
fingers twitching and teeth itching
red lip liner was such a bad idea
I don’t bother filling it in neatly
if I’m to play the role
of cracked out wife
well goodness, I must look it
he doesn’t lay an eye on me all night
whispers let me know
if the people aren’t aware, they’re guessing
I don’t bother to uphold
one semblance of normalcy
knock back one glass of the
fancy bubbly champagne
the shaking subsides
knock back a second
my vision no longer whirls
the drunker I get
the more normal I feel
my outward appearance is a mess
but
I feel good inside
This is a WIP of a collection of short poems. Hopefully I will be finished before August 15th, when I leave for college. Wish me luck!
557 · May 2014
Spots
asg May 2014
spots
like blisters on skin
irritate me
not only are they
extremely noticeable
they also have the audacity
to be irreversible
once marked or made
they never go, as if to say
I am here
you have seen me
and you can do nothing about it
nothing makes me feel
as powerless as spots do
plus, you can't always hide them
so someone else is bound
to see them too
now we have two irritated
people
because of one
significantly insignificant
spot
555 · Feb 2014
Wet Eyelids
asg Feb 2014
absolute
a word that marks finality
yet seems to encourage improvement
like how we are (were) absolutely perfect for each other
yet you went seeking for someone better
though I would hesitate
to call her arm improvement
and I know you were sincere
when you softly cried your apologies
but it is so hard, you see
to believe in a word like that when it surrounded my entirety
though I absolutely hate you
and I absolutely loathe her
I don't really
because absolute is not a real thing
not a real way to measure the mercuriality
of the human race
of you
of me
of we
554 · Nov 2013
To Be Made Of Sky And Stars
asg Nov 2013
We are not made of stars, I don't know why you told me that
Would it have made a difference if we were?
To be flaming ***** of combusted gas
Temperate and voatile
Already, that's how we exist...
So would it really have changed us?
(I think not)
Do you really think of me that way?
Combustible...unpredictable in every way
(Possibly not even there anymore)
Radiating your world from far away
So far...
You wouldn't notice if I disappeared
Do you truly think we're made of stars?
(It's not as romantic as you think)
Honestly, I view us more as a sunset
If we're going to talk atmosphere
The pinkish kind that melts and blends
Into the dark bruise of night sky
We mix and evolve into something atramentous
Something tantalizingly morbid
But our morbidity shall not keep
Us from living free and happy
Because, eventually, the sun rises
And brightens our venomous palors
Sweetens the berries of our tender youth
(Though not so young anymore)

You never say the right things anymore
Lucky you.
You have me.
(And I'll never let you go)
Star dust and all.
553 · Sep 2013
Embrace
asg Sep 2013
Slip your hands down my face
and you'll feel
the sweet grace
of my neck.
And below
you will find
majestic ridges
and sharpened edges.
Here is where breath
both touches and rises.
Here is where my heart
beats rapidly
strong,
because of your hands on me.
Sweetly it goes
like the last breeze tinted of rose.
Love knows no bounds
but is quick to entrap you in me.
So lay your hands across my collarbone.
Feel the entity of me.
541 · May 2014
For @electrifying
asg May 2014
Lightning (in their eyes)
• dangerous
• force to be reckoned
• skin peeling from impact
• must stay away, must stay away
• irrational fear
• terrifyingly easy way to die

Lightning (in my eyes)
• tantalizing
• giver of unseen life
• glowing skin and electric scars
• need to be close to
• pure energy, causing extreme wanderlust
• something so beautiful, could it **** me?
asg May 2014
The sunset was fantastically accurate to my mood as we laid in the plush grass and listened to lyrics that told us the hearts of saints are the hardest to love and that we should stay away and I, being a saint in your eyes, became the one poison you could not swallow. You left me that night.

2. Pushing rocks off the overhang to the sea which used to crash high onto the surf but now only just reaches the sandy banks of our backyard, I tossed rocks into that water for months waiting for you to come back.

3. Fact: there was a period of time where I would sleep off your special brand of liquor
    Fact: you called it love
    Fact: I thought of it as ***

4. If I had told you I loved you for the 186th time would you have finally accepted it?

5. Towers of lies like skyscrapers, every floor filled with the lies I've told (What floor ma'am? Oh deceit? Yes see, that's floor 23)

6. Excessive bleeding of my heart caused by the incisive ends of your sharp words.

7. You think I don't understand the flow of your mind and I think it's silly because I do - the flow isn't quite unlike a river near a stormy city, overflowing half the time I rain information on you, information that dries up on the banks of your brain like a salamanders back on a steamy beach, it runs in one ear (maybe) and out the other because you don't care about me anymore.

8. Never did I see a moon shine like it did the night I caught you sipping moonshine with my neighbors' daughter - the one who was 15, not the oldest - which would have hurt me less but I suppose my pain was your goal.

9. Making assumptions doesn't suit me well, but half the assumptions I made about you we're true like when I assumed you we're really out are Pinky's the night of our 1 year anniversary when you told me you got caught up at work. How do you get caught up at a 9-5 desk job?

10. Or the one time I assumed you were at work the time my sister went into labor really late on February 29th. I assumed, when you said the only car we had wasn't working and you were stuck at work, but when I drove by your job (in our neighbors car) under the direction of my very pregnant sister, I saw what I assumed - you ******* the floor tendant in the back of our Prius.

11. Her name was Becky, right?

12. My sister named the baby (a girl) Adelaide. You always called her Addy, knowing she hated it

13. The last night we went to watch the sunset I had you wait until the sky was an ink blot and explained to you that you made me like this, like the sky looked then. And even though I couldn't see your face I knew I'd hurt you because you'd picked me up 2 years ago by asking what my favorite color of the sky was.

14. I don't love you anymore, but I still miss you. If that doesn't make you want to just kiss the holy ground I walk on then I suppose I'm just wasting time and breath.
531 · May 2014
For @lostscars
asg May 2014
You really may have travelled too far
But only in your heart
Your physical body is constantly catatonic
Especially when the scars on your skin
Are lit up like a strip mall on Friday
Scars lead you back home
Home is where again?
Possibly somewhere far off in the sky
Definitely actually underneath the ground
Soaking pounds of dirt into skin
Breathing pounds into lungs
Teeth gnash
And eyelids flutter
Oh my, you've relapsed again.
518 · Aug 2014
Plastic Grocery Bag
asg Aug 2014
He was like a plastic bag, but the
non-translucent kind...
the kind that you could call foggy
The kind that you didn't know the contents of until you reached in and pulled them out
With him you had to be smart enough
to check what you were pulling out first or there could be a fight
He was not the type to accept impatience
Especially if he was the one being rushed
If it was raining you could be sure he wanted to sit in it
Not sing, or dance, or run
Just sit in the grass and let the raindrops trickle down his neck
That's how patient he was
Until he met me
I begged, maybe too much in the beginning but I was always
"Go, go, go" when he was ready to rest and I did not catch his initial irritation
I did not pay attention to his needs but he worked overtime attending to mine
and that's what made him the most patient in the beginning
It was not our love or my running that got old
No, it was some greater force
Like the one between two magnets driving us further apart
the closer we tried to get
The day he lost his patience with me was the day I found my ignorance and recognized my wrongs
Though I did not correct or accept either
And he walked away with no regrets while I tried to figure this empty feeling I think he left
But I couldn't be sure because I never felt full with him here
I never felt full but I emptied him out
I pulled all the items out the plastic bag
without looking first
asg Jul 2013
Fingertips
Left footsteps
Along my arms
Ghost touch
Invisible much
All but bearable to me
His calm voice
His melody
I don't miss those
Personal felony
To think that my life
Should stand still
Because of his absence
Which left holes in places
That now catch a draft
When the winter blows in
And touches my bones
He took off
Without warning
Doesn't matter much anymore
This is not a poem about him
But simply of the void he left behind
485 · May 2014
Bruised People?
asg May 2014
bruises leave pain
and marks
but never memories
constantly we forget
how a bruise has come about
though we know touching it hurts
so we leave it alone
to heal
and soon we forget it was ever there
so why
when it comes to bruises (metaphorical ones) in history
does the memory of pain
and the marks
hold so strong?
we need to learn to be more like bruises forgive but never forget?
how about we
forgive
forget
and MOVE ON
477 · Oct 2015
Getting Nowhere
asg Oct 2015
It affects her:
The calls, the messages, the smirks, the frowns, the curses, the white lies, the missed phonecalls, the skipped dates, the whistles, the hoots, the whispers, the stares, the anger, the harsh truths, the words they use to describe a human being that just happens to have a little extra **** to her body, the comments that come from those of the same *** about a body that could be perfect but why bother if there's no one to be perfect for?

It affects him:
The blank stares, the condescending voices, the cheers, the tears, the jeers, the insults, the absent father, the oblivious mother, the useless job, the harrowing boss, the old flame, the aches, the pain, the fact that he can't seem to make things work right when it could benefit him, the assumptions by them that he should be strong enough to carry the burdens of 12 others plus his own.

We need our girls to be smart but not so much that they become overconfident
We need our men to be strong and tears are meant for boys
We want our girls to be pretty
We want our boys to be handsome
We want our girls to understand their role in society and that they must not cross an arbitrary line made by those who fear them
We want our boys to grow up and understand they must provide, provide, provide and if they don't it's a sign of weakness
We want our women to provide children but oh no no no they must not work, where is the father?
We want and expect our men to be fathers to children, but not the ones born out of wedlock
We want, want, want but never ask our children anything because while we've strived hard to help their brains grow
we don't actually want them using that knowledge

We oppress our own people
And wonder why we see little success.
asg Mar 2021
“Why do you want it all from me?”

I halt our conversation,
with wine redder than my boney elbows
in a glass tipped at swollen, drunk lips.
Hesitation knows me best;
my breath laps heady from my throat
and I blush from exhaustion & fear.


“I am okay without it all. I don’t need anything from anyone.” I tell these lies often. You say nothing back. You've none to give.

What is all! But an eternity’s worth of want, a list
of things cherished and bought in bakeries
or vacation homes, empty until wanted...


that wine sat in my belly and warmed it
I didn’t drink water
I didn’t need it
I wanted much from you that night
the milk of conversation would never be enough

I wanted the soul, the songs, the sight of your eyes inches from mine illuminated by morning’s soft gracious dawn.
I wanted a ******* miracle to eat.

All, was something I never enumerated in you,
simply assumed, and realized soon after how
I would never succumb to wanting too much.
And now my plate lies empty.

I gave all I gathered to appease you;
you, and the trepidation you carried sea to sea.
I should’ve explained my red want.
How it was dried and mistaken for a cranberry,
how I lacked the effort to show you more, all

I craved all. But I found you had none to share.
asg Jun 2014
what's sugar taste like when you taste it on someone else's lips? does it taste sweet when you're in love? like deceit when you're in love with someone else? would it make a difference if my lips were covered with honey? sticky unconscious telling me not to press my lips too tight because the words I have tingling on my tongue are too important to be trapped behind porcelain teeth. if you're raised to always love unconditionally how does it feel to love someone who was raised not knowing what it felt like to be held? all this feeling and emotion and I wonder if this was a trap laid set for us. because how cruel is it to give us the power to feel love but not to feel loved. to only feel doubt when someone whispers sweet nothings in our ear as we lay staring at blank walls that just almost depict the walls of our hearts. could we muster up the energy to bleed ourselves onto each other...is that a normal way to express gratuity for an equal exchange of attraction?  how do we show love if we can't love ourselves? if we love ourselves too much how do we find an infinitesimal amount to give away to someone who could need it desperately? are we yet sweet enough to try? so again I ask you, what's sugar taste like when you taste it on someone else's lips?
459 · Jul 2013
Poetry of My Body
asg Jul 2013
down my back
across the rivets of my spine
are the letters
you carved in
none make words
none make sense
just expressions of the passion
we were experiencing at the time

on my fingertips
tatted beneath the edges of my nails
are the sayings you whispered
to me daily
"i love you"
"this is us"
"we are infinite"
every morning that i rose

invisible on my chest
etched into my ribs
so close to my heart
are the things you do for me
and the thoughts i have about them
how good you are
how nice your voice sounds
when you read to me

and lastly
plastered right on the front of my skull
are the arguments we had
the evil things we said
to each other
things we never meant
to be permanent
but will be here forever

till
death
do
us
**part
435 · Mar 2016
superficial
asg Mar 2016
the Internet creates false idols
that wander and spend change
only ever speaking words
through their eager fingers
yet we follow
and the screen obsessed children continue
they rule with soft hands and soft touch
50mm Soft Focus
and we believe in their lips
their eyes
their hair
their makeup
their nails
their lives
we believe and we follow
but every so often
we're reminded how shallow they can be
petty fights
indignant rights
cheap plastic doesn't look cheap
with the right filter
weird, we judge people's lives
through silicon screens
there's a fear of digging deep some hold
personally I'd rather feel
rough skin and rubbery nails
thick hair to run fingers through
long limbs and bony elbows
narrow hips that don't hold his jeans up
thin fingers and slow breathing
torn skin with bumpy scars
silk sheets and warm toes
I'd rather see
rimmed glasses and brown eyes
soft smirks that hint at porcelain teeth
broad shoulders that hunch a little
small moles that lead to nowhere
I'd rather hear gravelly voices
low timbre with my name on tongue
so tell me
are the lips you spend so long plumping
announcers of aspect truth?
do your words have substance full of vermouth?
do you love the life you live or live to wander?
have you done anything special?
have you had a lot of good news?
tell me, really tell me...
can you do all this without posting it for views?
432 · Apr 2014
Night Watch
asg Apr 2014
I watched him like I watch sunsets...
With my breath held waiting for him to disappear
To my surprise he never did
Could it have been possible he was just an apparition?
asg Jun 2014
eternal love -
bright & effervescent
illuminating the walls of a vagabonds heart
walls - which used to be opaque
like ebony glass -
the kind of love that makes young boys
recite loquacious poetry
into ladies' chamber windows -
eternal love that never sees eternity
403 · May 2014
If Bells Never Ring
asg May 2014
If bells never ring for you
When you leave through open doors
I'll stand on the other side and cheer
And if the lights never shine for you
As you stand upon an empty stage
I'll smile brightly as to comfort you
If treetops reach too far above
When you try to climb their age'd branches
I'll hold you up, no need to fear falling
But all this could be trivial
For how could we determine fate
And what might we feel later on
Shall I be as forgiving then?
With ample heart I love you now
And I suppose I will tomorrow
But times do change
And I'm known to be volatile
Though I'd never hurt you
And I could never hurt him...
I suppose I wane decidebly indecisive
Too troubled to say I love you straight
asg Jan 2016
Does it process in your mind at all
that I am not a rubber band?
I do not have a limit but you are constantly trying to push it,
and when you notice I am not breaking, you push harder
And it really makes me wonder
are you really trying to hurt me?
I open my chest and mind to you
I let you tinker with  my breath, my heartbeat, my thoughts
And yet some maleficent part of you wants access to even more?
You've taken advantage of my trust
and you've purple bruises on my body
the same color as the red wine you sneak out of your parents cellar
I should've known then you had the heart of a thief
and that you would continuously try to steal away my breath
But I did not think you would be so cruel
as to steal it away when I needed it most
You are slowly turning me into a drug, your own personal addiction
But I am not a pill or a cup of NyQuil you can swallow
I've always felt bad for those addicted to drugs
Those who no longer do it just to get high
but use because without them...
their body shakes and the earth quakes beneath their feet
And every day until their next hit is a headache
An irritation you know well
and can only soothe by ******* the life from me with your kisses
I've always felt bad for addicts but know that I know
what it's like to be a drug
I feel even worse for them
I'm pass the point of washed up
and just tipping on the edge of used up
And this is your indefinite warning:
If you do not leave me now, it will all end in a night
Because I will crash and drag your addiction ridden body with me
It's no longer a simple game
because you've turned this love into a hall of pain
Nothing can be the same
395 · Jun 2014
Random Thoughts
asg Jun 2014
Does it matter if the caged bird flies?
Truly, I wouldn't expect you to understand
Why does a poem need wings
When it's lines carry enough beat
To give it speed through the times?
Locked up or let out
We still have our voices
It doesn't take much to be heard
It's the fear of isolation
That keeps these rich kids quiet
Its the fear of responsibility
That keeps these poor kids home
To be loved and to live and then to leave
Cycle of life, cycle of patience
It goes and comes and goes like
The merry go round that is your (not so)dysfunctional brain
Branches of knowledge that used to hang low
On the giving tree
Now are broken and burned, the branches higher up now contain the world's information
And how tyrannical does that sound?
362 · May 2014
For Him (Again)
asg May 2014
This is my goodbye letter:

Goodbye,
   I hope to never see you face again. Not because I hate it, but because I hate the way it makes me feel. I don't like feeling confused when one shan't be confused. It does not sit well with me. There are many emotions I have come into check with but confusement is where I draw the thickest and final line. I must say I adored you, and idolized and revered you. I never saw myself beside you until you made it slightly apparent I was worth it. But that picture was never drawn, was it? It was never meant for us to be one no matter how much I yearned for it. We cannot simply be together so we must be far, far apart. So adieu, my neverwaslove, I hope I never see you again.
              
          Very Insincerely,                  
**Broken and Unsatisfied
357 · Feb 2014
Bittersweet
asg Feb 2014
Take these hands and mold them like clay
Make them operate under your will
Sow these fingers together like lace
Because that's how fragile my actions are
Make me like snow that falls and never melts
Crystallize me in the multifaceted edges of your mind
Break my bones and separate my molecules
Turn me into what you want, if not just for tonight
I saw a blazing constellation the other day
And it reminded me of you
I felt my face aflame under my sheets
And I needed you so bad to come cool my skin
With your lips froze like the ice that roams your blood
Passionate like roses, but ever shy like daffodils
Yellow with worry and trepidation
You wound my hair with your finger so tight
I could feel your apprehension that night
Could taste it in your heady breath
And we fell asleep afraid
Having nightmares that paralyze you in your rest
Trapped by our own emotions
But I never asked you to stay, you just did
Maniacs keep awful company
That's what I told you anyway as I counted the blades of grass
Outside tastes like magic and honey
Like energy made for our lungs sweet drinks for our mouths
Steady it goes
The pounding of my afferent heart
Until it doesn't
But the earth that will fill my lungs then
Will be just as bittersweet as your tongue is now
357 · Jun 2014
Reminder
asg Jun 2014
blue
not
brown
are the colors of your eyes
and
smooth
not
rough
are the contours of your jaw
and
straight
not
crooked
is the bridge of your nose
and
warm
not
cold
are the palms of your hands
so why do I have to repeatedly tell myself
**YOU ARE NOT HIM
355 · Jul 2013
I'm not exactly sure
asg Jul 2013
colors blur a lot faster
when you're spinning out of control
down a road full of life
life you don't **see
355 · Jan 2015
Mr. Moon
asg Jan 2015
black and blue bruises print your back like a roadmap
and the red scratches are statelines leading toward our passion
enraged and engulfed in love
no outside matter can awake us
or catch our attention until the deed is done
and afterwrads we lay in a sweaty pile of legs and arms
and we both glisten and pant
and the world smells like daises dipped in sunshine
waking up from the deep slumber that later ensues
is like being born again
muscles are sore, such a sweet sense of pain
and everything is too bright, but it's nice
like the sun is a close second cousin you haven't seen in a while
together at night we're like a storm cloud
but there's always a decent sized rainbow when we wake
laying here now, in this morning glow, I watch
I watch your skin quiver at my touch
and I watch you eyelids flutter
you stick your fingers in my hair even though they get stuck
and we giggle and it is musical
because your laughter sounds like what I imagine the moon does
deep, but raspy like you've been smoking candy cigarettes
it's quite impossible for me to express my love
in any other way than between these sheets
and if that makes me unholy then so be it,
and let me ****** forever
because your body is my temple
and I bless you skin every night with my kisses
so I suppose that makes me a saint actually
and your words my teachings and your tattoos my scribe
I don't fully believe in reincarnation
and less in soulmates
but this feels too good not to have been
premonitioned by ancient stars
there are three ways I love you
and the first two are the way you take me to bed
the third is your eyes
and the way they are illuminant
like moonbeams
and round
like they could be innocent
except I know the deep seated lust they hide
god, your eyes are so beautiful
352 · Mar 2019
Out the Back Door
asg Mar 2019
I don’t understand why you left.
Don’t understand why I left you.
Understand you, I don’t. Left...why?
Why, I understand. You left. Don’t.
You understand left, why don’t I?
Left you, don’t I understand why.
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