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 Jun 2014 Pierce Llanden
Alice
Now
 Jun 2014 Pierce Llanden
Alice
Now
Remember when you promised me
All your soul and body
And that I'd never slip
Below the crashing waves.

Just when it was calmest
You left me for the future
A future with no love or lust
At least not involving me.

To be happy, they say,
Live in the now.
I suppose I live in your past
So I hope your now is the happiest now
(You're the reason our now could never last.).
Good bye.
I.
I can feel the crush of her blueberry eyes
in the grip of your skin.
She stains
the sheets between our twister games,
that scuffle in your bed at night.
and I just can’t wash out
the echoes that she's left in your eyes
where I have turned  
invisible.

This is my goodbye.

II.
You once said, in the heat of your embrace,
that you wanted to hold me close
because I spoke like things
had more meaning than they really did.

But I am not written in braille,
you do not have to touch me to
know me.

III.
I cannot recall the day when I transformed from
your golden chrysanthemum to
the torn-up library book
that you gave and took back
as you pleased.

IV.
I hate the way you kiss
because your lips leave sticky-note
reminders
of the last people you left behind. I fear
my fate will be the same.

V.
The movement of your hips
rippling like waves between my sands
is
overwhelming. Just
stop.

VI.
I will never trust you.

VII.
I feel like a flower.
Standing silent against the heavy rain.
Releasing all my wearied petals in
the coming storm.

This is goodbye.

November 25, 2013 1:09 PM
 May 2014 Pierce Llanden
Amanda
Inherently,
there are those memories that ****** away at our crinkled hearts.

Some pull & tug in the same way,
eyelids close  
slowly and sleepily on Sunday mornings.

A few and a half dust-motes on memories are like paper cuts.

Short, sweet, stinging.

A handful are incredibly blurry, is it for the best?

Whether, my fingertips are trying to paint a lie white,
even, my mind is not too sure.

I keep living and breathing past tense.

I  liked the way your lips turned downwards before that smile,
the roughness of your fingertips against mine.

Of course, it is all gone now.

You are gone now.

And I have not even forgiven myself
for
forgetting how it             *f e l t.
Hello there lovely soul!
x
Good morning Sunshine/ Good Afternoon/ Good Night & Sweet dreams where-ever, you, you and you are!
what if for a second,
you can love me back.
look at my eyes
the way i adore yours.
rub your supple lips
to mine 'till i break apart.
squeeze my hand
and never let go.
write poetry about us,
like i'm the only thing in the world.
wake up next to me,
after those soothing lullabies.
feel your body,
close to mine.

what if.
what if.
what if.

you can love me back.

then i wouldn't have to write you a poem.
 May 2014 Pierce Llanden
meg
I remember when I was in the hospital and I didn't sleep for two days straight because I swore to god that if I did the demons would step out from under the bed and seep into my head.

I remember when it was three am, and I was shaken awake from the girl three doors down shrieking from the night terrors that her mother embedded into her skull with her fist and a belt when she was eight. But, they were then stored away until she was thirteen years old and a man swore that he'd beat her if she didn't cooperate. So, now they hide during the day, and creep back up when the sun falls.

I remember when I witnessed a boy unintentionally scratch at his skin until he bleed for an hour because the voices inside of his mind told him that if he didn't hurt anyone else, he would just have to hurt himself. and he swears he'd never hurt anyone besides himself.

I remember when I met a girl who had cuts up and down her arms and legs from when her mother told her she'd never survive the world because she isn't good enough. But, I swear to god that she was the strongest person I've ever met.

I remember when my roommate stayed up all night rocking with bloodshot eyes and deep purple circles underneath of them because she swore that if she slept the monsters inside of her head would crawl out and bleed into her soul.

I remember when the boy five doors down hit the wall so hard that it shook the entire unit because he hallucinated a man and a little girl trying to strangle him, and he swore he could feel the noose around his neck.  

even through all of this, for some odd reason teenagers think it's lovely to have deep scars and to hear voices telling them to **** themselves and everyone around them. I swear, nothing is lovely about demons eating at your brain and thoughts.

I remember when it was four am, and I was up weeping from the fact that people think my suffering is lovely.

I can swear to you, it's not.
***** hiding that I went to a mental ward. because I think that this is the best poem I've ever written.
 May 2014 Pierce Llanden
mûre
It takes a strange courage to submit to stasis
a gentle acceptance to admit to accordance
a small release to move with grace.

It takes a surprising effort to allow joy to enter
to reveal my belly with trust for all the world,
to allow my hangdog face to return to the kennel.

I watch many move in cool hues, violets and blues,
the slow step of broken people, crushed by crushes, worn with work
as the common connecting thread, the rope bright red held by toddlers at daycamp so no one gets lost.

Sadness has become a language, a lingo so powerful that crowded rooms have little else to say. Whomever heralds the heaviest woe wins. Misery begets fine company. I've watched friends form from frayed souls that fate has patched together, I have watched lovers born from mourning.

I'm so tired of weeping. I'm not sad anymore.

I want to throw open every pair of crossed arms I see like shutters on locked windows. I seek the bravery to tell the world how happy I truly am and accept it as something other than a defeat- I want to laugh even though it will set me apart.

If I can light up a single room it will be enough. A tiny sun may feel lonely, but if it burns bright the rest will orbit.

Never will I permit the easy current of melancholy to drown me.

No more will I hide from the beauty of my life.
 May 2014 Pierce Llanden
Eiram
There are a lot of things wrong..
With the way you make me feel
You make me feel like I'm taking acid
I start to feel dizzy and like I'm shooting over the clouds
Because you called me cute...

But then you take 96 hours, 27 minutes and 34 seconds to reply to a text message or phone call I left to you

I worry. And that acid trip starts to plummet and I feel like I am falling

Extremely fast. And the second I'm about to hit the ground. You're suddenly back.

And I am planted softly on the ground

In a daze. But then you're gone again.

Then. 5 months, 2 weeks, 7 hours, 52 minutes, and 8 seconds later. You finally start talking to me again.


Apologizing for breaking my heart.
For literally taking my heart and squeezing it. With the blood oozing out and my heart deflating and it literally feels like my heart has been seized out of my chest into the palm of your hand but some how I can literally feel you hurt my heart

And that very pain sends electric shocks to my brain. And I'm blacked out mentally until you "apologize"

And the dopamine in my body starts to spike and I trick myself into thinking. "Yes. It's all going back to normal, we aren't crazy" "we aren't crazy"

Yes we are

You make me feel like I will die without you. If I can't have your existence present to me. I am literally a bomb full of depression. Ready to implode into myself at any given moment.

You crush my desires into fine dust and set them in a line and snort them so you can watch me crumble to nothingness. You take my happiness with a needle and shoot it through your own veins. You take my love and put it in empty pill capsules and pop them whenever you're lonely. And you literally leave me with nothing but sadness.    

You literally abuse me like I'm some sort of drug machine. Whenever you need it. I've seem to always have it.

There are a lot of things wrong with the way you make me feel.

But what is really wrong, and disturbing..

I still love every. Single. Piece of you.

— The End —