Rapunzoll Dec 6
i hate you, and i wish you were dead,
because if you were dead,
i could remember you kindly,
my memory would be of
how you cared for me,
not how you hurt me.

i could reflect on us fondly,
without every memory tainted
by how you left me all bone,
that vultures could not find
anything left to pick of me.

there would be no need
to think about what you were up to
every single day.
i would think of you rotting,
and how i wished you could stay.

i wouldn't pace aimlessly,
my head cold like a widows bed,
knowing you are out there living,
vivacious, carefree,
not giving a **** about me.

i do not wish to have unmet you,
but i do wish you dead.
instead i'm grieving someone
who's still alive.
Dear *******
© copyright
Rapunzoll Oct 2017
a pretty face won't make him stay,
only words can,
but you write them all down on paper
instead of telling him anyway.
if you spoke up sooner,
if you didn't let your words strangle
themselves in your vocal chords,
maybe love would be a roar,
maybe it would be louder than the sound
of your neighbors fist hitting his wife.
maybe your love wouldn't be so silent,
as his footsteps late at night,
when he comes back stinking of anothers perfume.
you'd turn your body to face the wall,
you'd be a body of bricks,
you'd be the wall.
maybe if both your bodies entwined,
you could form fossils in bed.
and later, archaeologists could marvel
at the beauty of human heartache,
how the heart turns to dust,
and the love decays with us.
© copyright
Rapunzoll Aug 2017
sometimes alcohol makes my
stomach churn with its lies.
the more i take, the less i feel.

maybe there are addictions worse
than addiction to skin.
i can't understand why you
make me feel so empty
so my glass is always full.

i'm scared of kissing you sober,
i've never kissed a man sober.
i tell you i love you,
hoping you'll blame my
***** veins.

i don't trust smiles that
hide the teeth,
but i'm here now,
cradled in his palms,
tasting his flesh.
i once thought his eyes
reminded me of oceans,
now i realize they remind me
of sharks.

he looks like someone that
could **** me,
that's just my type.
i forget to say no.
the last man i loved put his
fingers inside my mouth
and ripped my tongue out.
my body doesn't know
how to say no anymore.

last time,
this is the last time,
oh i said that last time.

i fell too deep into the rabbit hole,
like alice in wonderland,
except alice is the one
who fell in love with the mad hatter,
and alice is the one
who lost her head.

it's getting darker,
and i'm afraid.
i can't stay, my dear,
i can't stay.
the pen will only run out
and i'll be awake all night
if i don't empty
it of this ink.
© copyright
Rapunzoll Aug 2017
never mix a poet and an artist.
he whispered to me, his words mix like
paint in his head to form a beautiful
"two pretentious people can never
get their way,
we're two busy expecting the other
person to make a move".
i'm too scared to let him get close,
i'll write about him,
i won't be able to forget about him,
and all i want to do is act reckless
at night and pretend
i'm good in the morning.
i wonder what games i'm playing this time.
maybe i wanted to kiss him,
maybe i didn't.
my brain can't make it's mind up.
i'm fickle.
all i know is an emotion in the moment,
and i tug on it,
i won't let it go.
if i can feel anything at all,
let me feel it.
so i'll play with his hands and he'll shake
his head and complain i never know
what i want,
and our heads lean in and i tell myself
i won't kiss him,
and something twists in my stomach,
and i tug, i tug.
© copyright

I actually hated this guy.
Rapunzoll Jul 2017
now we're in the backseat,
and my stomachs turning.
maybe i just want people in my life
in an un-romantic way.
i like to get under their skin,
and steal their souls story.
i love how everyone is different,
and i can't hate a single thing,
because it makes them human;
the girls who steal bikes at midnight,
and the guys who offer their apartment
out at night.
i find myself in the wrong crowd,
i find myself in these situations,
in the backseat,
with someone who's speaks a
language far from consent
and it's all desperation.
his hands on my neck,
and there's no attraction,
mentally he has a way of making
my head spin faster than the
and i'm not sure if i'm
kissing him sober,
or if the night itself is drunk,
and i'm waiting for the sun to shine
a light on my mistakes,
as it always does.
i take their stories, they take mine,
but i'm not sure what part of it's true.
the girl in the backseat,
the girl shaking,
the rigid lips and bites.
maybe we won't speak,
maybe he'll lecture me again,
for using my body as a token
to pay my way.
love is an expensive thing.
© copyright
Rapunzoll Jul 2017
the pains and the pleasures,
are deliciously melted into one.
it's so wild here,
i feel as though i have become one
who lives in the gutter,
i'm no better than the rats.

it's where the animal instinct kicks in,
and we all scream until we can't say
we're sorry for what we've done.

there's men and they don't care
who you are, who you've seen,
they only want to know the feel of you,
and it's okay
i can only love physically,
the rest of me is dead, i left her back home.
she spoils the fun.

they laugh like wolves,
at her, at us.
the poetry girl in this ***** place,
she doesn't fit in, poetry is a language
different to what they speak.

because everything is filth,
i spit it and i live it.
and if you hurt me,
you know when to stop.
i'm not afraid to pull you to me.
we're as different as
the drugs you take.
one things certain, if i hurt myself,
i won't know when to stop.

it's better it comes from you,
strangers in paradise,
in a land as foreign as my head.
i won't stop,
i won't stop,
i won't stop,
i won't know,
i won't
© copyright
Rapunzoll Mar 2017
mother cried
because she was beautiful
her daughter,
the placid girl.

she cried,
because the men wanted her,
yet could not love her.

as millions plucked
flowers for their beauty,
then threw them to pavements.

they touched her,
because she was beautiful.
they defiled her.

they ripped the petals
from her throat,
and left her to wither,

a rose on the sidewalk.
© copyright

Just have a lot of anger inside me
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