Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
possibly Jul 2018
There is Love, and there is you.
I don’t know of Love anymore.
The time I knew Love,
Love lived in the distance between our palms whenever we held hands,
And used to drink the insecurity from my walk.
Love visited in the wind and came just as fast as it went.

I hear Love hated the subway.
It was something about the distance,
Something about letting others be close to them,
Something about how the destination isn’t worth the journey,
Something about how Love just isn’t the “subway” type.

There is Love and there is you.
Love took my heart for test drives in midnight parking lots
And drove off without another word.
Love has broken my heart one too many times.
When people ask me,
“Are you looking for Love?”,
My answer is always no.

No, I do not want Love.
I would much rather have you.
i only write in the summer time
possibly Jul 2018
I want a love like Mondays.
It is coffee with headaches and early mornings.
It is work.
It is the longest day.
It is a fresh start.
It is knowing it only gets better from here.
we are feeling loved and giddy again
possibly Jan 2018
My bookshelves still remember you.
They are full of sketchbooks that forgot you broke my heart.
They wear your name proudly across pages trying to capture your smile between its covers.
I don't have the heart to tell them.

I don't want to tell them that those eyes can't tell what I'm thinking without saying a word.
That those hands can't guide me through forests and cities, through anxiety and depression.
That those arms are not home.
That I cannot hear his laugh with those lips.

And until your smile is no longer synonymous with the first letter of "lost" and the first three of "over",
your name will be the only word in my vocabulary
because I don't need anything else.

If only I could draw on a smile,
maybe my sketchbooks would think
I'm happy now too.
I'm hopeless
possibly Jan 2017
You spoke me into raindrops, daisies, and fear.
You whispered the universe into my bloodstream,
Marked my body with stardust.
And when storm clouds could not
pull the tides,
created waves of indecision,
And an earthquake in my chest,
You called a tsunami a shower
when I couldn’t swim.

When the world goes dark,
As night turns to day,
I remember that even the moon forgets its purpose,
without the sun to light its way.
You loved my flowers,
But didn’t expect the weeds.
As though the stars shine bright only for your whim and need.

If only
God was so kind.

Branches with apples
Falling further
Than you could reach;
You planted apples
Expected oranges.
You plucked me from my own
home and left only weeds.
You loved roses but didn’t want the thorns.
And when a tree falls
but no one cares enough to listen,
I remember
that I am not a tree
planted by your disposition
and watered by your compliments.

You cannot rush a bud
to bloom
and you cannot make
a baby bird spread its wings.
You cannot will
the universe to do your bidding
and I cannot force you
to look into my eyes
and see the galaxies.

If only
God was so kind.
This was for my english course lol
possibly Jan 2017
We raise our kids on words like suppose and almost.
A lifetime of Hallmark cards and empty promises.
As though identity is a multiple choice question
With only two options.

To the girl with hair too short for her liking,
And a body she does not recognize to be hers,
Do not consume the venom that drips from their lips,
Or respond to the pronouns stapled into you, as though
They know you better than you know yourself.

To the boy with the aching chest,
You are not bound by the stereotypes inflicted by society.
You do not have to justify your name to those with acid tongues,
And ‘cis’-tematic oppression carved into their hearts.

To every person
Who has taken their hearts and shoved it away in the abyss of their closets,
To every person
Who was told that their identity was like the moon
On days that it disappears from the sky,
I am sorry.

I am sorry for every mother, father, brother, and sister
Who took your identity with a mouthful of  intolerance.
I’m sorry you had to come out of hiding
From a game of Hide & Seek no one was aware we were playing,
And the tsunami of fear that ensued after it.
I am sorry that some of us could not handle your freedom to love.

To those lucky enough to feel at home
In your bodies of Adam and Eve,
Others are not so lucky.
Do not be the serpent;
be the guiding angel
For those who feel trapped in this tunnel of sin and uncertainty.
Spread the love they were once fearful to express,
And respect their right to be who they choose.
Be the ally to the world’s freedom of love.
Unlock the door for those locked in.
this was for my religion course lol
possibly Aug 2016
All I ever wanted
was to make you smile.
When you smile,
the world realizes
it can too, and even the
flowers left to rest
find the will to live again.
I'm sorry all I ever made
you do was leave.
i don't have flowers anymore
Next page