Nouance: Favorites

Nov 2014 Nouance

pushthepulldoor

That laugh,
shakes like the demolition it's encasing.
Constantly used to hold back screams.
Used to reassure people shes fine.
A smile plastered on her face accompanied by
the laughter she practiced and mastered.
An artist of emotional controversy.
She is a mastermind of biting her tongue-
coming to terms that her silence is golden.
When you hear her, hold on tight to her words.
She will drill right into and past your heart
directly into your bones.
Her finely composed hostility will stay with you
forever.
That smile that could crack diamonds
never falters.

#words #fight #**** #laugh #scary #emotional #fierce #aggressive #passive

Nov 2014 Nouance

How To Become What You Hate

Nov 2014 Nouance

Olivia Bess-Rhodes

How To Become What You Hate

You only wear dark clothes when you're sad
now you're wearing black

My hands are the coldest you’ll ever hold
I think my heart is too

I’ll never be big
or small enough to fit in your arms
                                              I always kiss
   the wrong person goodnight

Now ask me how many times you kissed me
then how many times I actually felt something

          Maybe we are just  a lesson that
has gone unlearned
                        Or maybe I just don't know how to end this.

Nov 2014 Nouance

a poem collaboration with f.a.r.

Nov 2014 Nouance

k o s m i k

a poem collaboration with f.a.r.

i'm trying to break the barriers between us,
but my voice isn't loud enough;
scream with me, have faith.
before it's far too late..
before the walls consume us and silence us
for a longer time than we expect...
before i drown myself in the pool of our lost memories,
i'd rather have the walls swallow me.
before i fall apart at the seams
just like the first rose you gave me that withered,
i'd rather let you leave numbly.
before the immortal stillness starts to drip down my neck,
and i'll begin to hear my own cells
crack at the cry of your name...
before the raindrops, the exact replica of my tears,
fall on the ashes of our crowded memories
that are no longer familiar...
before my heroine turns to ******,
before the offsprings of spring decide to kidnap me,
before the hands on the clock choke me...
before my heartbeat turns into electric shocks that fail to revive me,
before the stars in my eyes burn out faster than us...
leave me. leave me numb, alone, unaware.
my body ran out of red, now i'm bleeding hues while waiting for you.
you dug my own hole, you smothered my soul.
they warned me about how you had a habit
of running your thumb against others' lives,
but i wont let you touch mine.
my existence will not be smudged by yours;
leave, before you take over me completely.

#poem #poetry #illhueminati #collaboration #mydaylightshowontwitter #mydaylightshow

Nov 2014 Nouance

No Place I'd Rather Be

Nov 2014 Nouance

Ronnie James Corbin

No Place I'd Rather Be

I feel a shiver run through me
As her fingers touch my neck
And she bites my lip
While she tells me she loves me

I could sprout wings and fly
Every time she speaks my name
Her enticing words rolling off her tongue
And composing a symphony in my ears

When she walks,
I'm fascinated with how she sways her hips
And how she turns back to look at me and licks her lips
And my heart starts beating in anticipation

Her skin is soft,
Like I'm running my rough hands across flower petals
And when I kiss her neck,
I hear her breathe in gold and exhale diamonds
While she pulls my hair
Just the way I like it

There's no place I'd rather be

Nov 2014 Nouance

heart murmur kept in a coffee can

Nov 2014 Nouance

Tom Leveille

heart murmur kept in a coffee can

i can feel you
distancing yourself from me
i can feel continental drift
i wonder, do the shoes
you wear to run from me
have holes in them?
or do you go barefoot
careful not to make a sound
in your retreat. "cover your tracks & don't look back" i imagine
your demons whisper daily
as you are growing fond of me
i wonder if your heart puts up a fight when you want to see me
or if it's a massacre
& the demons dance
on dreams you have
of us holding hands
do you wander to your car
only to find yourself back in bed?
do you put your makeup on
just to take if off again?
is your imagination of me
a graveyard, or a pair of open arms
that are inches away
but just out of reach?
you see, what i've been so afraid
to tell you for so long,
why i feign sometimes
before speaking
careful not to tell you
all my unspoken promises,
it has to do with the night you had your head on my chest and confessed you never thought my heart
could beat like hummingbird wings:
i apologize for my silence
what i've been trying to say
is that my heart hasn't slowed down
since the day we drank coffee together
continents apart

Nov 2014 Nouance

I'm just trying to explain

Nov 2014 Nouance

drunken pastels

I'm just trying to explain

I guess what I’m trying to tell you is that I meant it at the time and that’s really all I have. feelings change more frequently than the weather. all small talk consists of is the weather, the rain or lack of it, but do you remember how the sky looked the day your heart really broke? I don’t. you told me you hated small talk.

All I’m saying is death might affect children more than it affects us. they are gifted with the ability to only think about the present, so when they cry over a lost balloon let them. I am not who I was when I cried over lost balloons and even that is a little death.

I guess what I’m trying to say is I can’t give you every part of me because I trust you mean it when you say you love me now, but I know one day you won’t mean it anymore and I need to have parts of myself left. I am not who I was a year ago and one day I will not know you at all.

at that wedding the priest kept repeating “love never fails” so I’m trying to figure out if what we had was not love or if he doesn’t know what love is

Nov 2014 Nouance

better off not knowing

Nov 2014 Nouance

drunken pastels

better off not knowing

replaced is such an ugly word, only found in hospital rooms when organs fail, in bedrooms when your daughter's heart is ripped from her chest by that boy with no job

being replaced brought out the worst in me.
there is malice in all of us, we just can't feel it all the time
tingling in our fingertips making us want to punch concrete
i just want to see blood i don't care if it's my own
the malice in me lingers and can understand why Columbine happened and how serial killers sleep at night

the only boyfriend I have ever loved moved thousands of miles away and replaced me within 4 months. how dare I compare that pain to the death of a loved one i am sorry if you have broken your neck when I have only broken fingers

what I'm trying to say is I can't show up at your bedside with a knife and I can't burn the stuffed animal you have slept with since you were born

this is the pain I wish upon you: I hope that one day he is sleeping peacefully in a queen sized bed you bought days after purchasing your first apartment, I hope your curiosity leads you to his drawers. i hope you find my letters, read them and understand how much I loved him. I hope you feel sick thinking about how I was everything before you were even a thought. most of all, I hope you wonder what he wrote in his letters to me. I hope it keeps you awake at night. I hope that stationary in the bottom of my drawer haunts you. that is the part of him I get to keep. i hope you feel like he will never be wholly yours

this is the reality: she laughed and gripped my letters wanting to burn them. the feeling of satisfaction that the past is gone and can never be relived dulled the pain of jealousy. there is no winner and there is no loser, only love, lost love, time and the consequence of circumstance. if distance is only in the mind than i have to stop blaming the oceans between us. in her hands is a part of me i can never get back. the idea that he will never be whole with that piece of the past in my possession would mean that I can never be fully whole. maybe we're all better off burning the letters

past flames heartbreak burn past malice concrete fingers blood pain

Nov 2014 Nouance

boot camp

Nov 2014 Nouance

drunken pastels

boot camp

HOW DO YOYU POLITELY TELL SOMEONE THAT WHEN THEY LEFT YOU WRAPPED YOURSELF IN THEIR MEMORIES AND THEY WERE THE ONLY THING YOU COULD FALL ASLEEP TO.

HOW DO YOU TELL SOMEONE THAT EVERY SECOND OF YOUR TIME WAS SPENT WORRYING ABOUT WHETHER OR NOT THEY WERE OKAY LIKE I WAS YOUR MOTHER BUT I WORRIED ENOUGH FOR THE BOTH OF US.

THE ONLY COMFORT I HAD WAS IN THE NIGHT TIME BECAUSE I KNEW YOU WERE SLEEPING AND NOT SUFFERING. YOU CHOSE TO LEAVE MY LIFE ENTIRELY BUT I DID NOT STOP WORRYING I TRAINED MY MIND TO WORRY ABOUT YOU AND I WILL NEVER HAVE THE COMFORT OF KNOWING YOU’RE OKAY.

THE NIGHT YOU GOT DEPLOYED THERE WAS SOMETHING COMPRESSING MY CHEST FOR HOURS I COULDN’T BREATHE I COULD ONLY PANIC I COULD NOT SLEEP IN MY OWN BED BECAUSE ALL I COULD FEEL WAS YOUR ******* GHOST THAT I USED TO CLING TO BUT NOW I AM BEGGING IT TO LEAVE ME ALONE

#love #need #loss #angry #military #yell #deployment

Nov 2014 Nouance

letters to cupid

Nov 2014 Nouance

Tom Leveille

letters to cupid

whenever i hear a wind chime i think of your voice. i wonder what it's like to be your bedsheets. what it would really be like to understand the jargon in your head. i ******* want to kiss you sometimes and then others i really do want concrete between your hands & my skin. i can't think straight all the time so i wonder if it benefits me at all to explain what it means that i don't want or expect anything from you but if we accidentally liked eachother in that middle school "sort of way" then i wouldn't say no. i want to really understand what you mean when you say "stay" to me in our texts. i wonder if your sleeping pills do to you what they do to me. i'm thinking again about "stay" and maybe i'm choked up on you leaving for school up north but i'll never tell you because get the **** out of here and don't look back especially not for me. stay. your smile, genuine or not tears me in two. i wish every face on the planet had your smile and i am ******* afraid of you wearing lipstick. i'm terrified of your bare skin and goodbyes. i hate farewells and see you laters. i knew the first time i saw you interact on your phone while drinking coffee the way you text people and how i now do the same thing. i get around read receipts. i sometimes want to hear you say you want.. not so much me, maybe me, but my company. theres a park near my house where i've imagined us paddle boating. i got written up at work once for daydreaming about it. what the **** is in a friendship anyway, decency in a human isn't biological. i get hung up on knee jerks and gut reactions. i want to know what the ******* are thinking about when i look up and you are looking right at me. but then again, i don't. as long as i'm wondering. as long as the door might swing open or closed. stay. go. run. **** your collarbones. **** your chest and skin and lips and everything i hate but crave and might like about you without say so. stay. sit down and explain to me why it is that i care anyway. i am afraid that if i say i want to *******, you'll think i mean *******, and not "*******". i wanna know if any of this sounds familiar and i here i am back to wondering what the **** is going on and why you're looking at me. the hair on my neck stands on end when you do and another thing... **** poetry. i cloud my feelings for you & anything else with the abstract so you'll never really know if i ******* hit rock bottom or not over the fact that i know we will never kiss. somebody just said "**** buddy" on tv and i think sometimes symmetry between irony & circumstance. i have harbored some of these thoughts since the night you said hello to me. i'm sorry i had to get over the fact that once upon a time i wanted to save somebody, and you weren't going to let it be you. i do sometimes think my hands might break you, that you spend your day painting a picket fence in your head that you can't get on one side or the other on. i felt like you didn't want to get up from dinner and i rushed it out the door because i am afraid to start a sentence with so. so stay. i am sorry my words often wear brass knuckles. your smile shoots to **** and if i ever die while you still remember my name i want you to read this or read something at my funeral. i don't know if these butterflies are waiting for me to jump or sit down but they speak up when my phone lights up & it's you.

Nov 2014 Nouance

epithet

Nov 2014 Nouance

Tom Leveille

epithet

and here i am again
at the intersection
of pedestrian language
& old wives tales
swallowing gum
like 7 year memories
opening umbrellas inside
cause i can't seem get away
from all of this rain
i ******* with my left hand
cause i was told
back in highschool that
"it feels like someone else is doing it"
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out
that some one else found you
or my sleep
or lack thereof
its starting to tear me apart
i keep having this dream
where you are in
an unfamiliar body of water
trying to wash my poetry
off of your hands
or the one where
something happens in my chest
every time you sit
on someone else's bed
i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced
but don't have the heart
to look for anymore
tired of you saying my name
like you're trying to bury it
i'm tired of wondering
if you can tell the difference
between the absence
of my voice & silence
the other day
i almost started sobbing
at work when a woman
asked me about
our equipment
i was explaining how
things come apart
and almost mentioned your name
it made me think
of how you used to say
things like "what would you do
if i showed up on your doorstep
one day?" now, i haunt
the windows in my house
i don't leave for weeks at a time
i sit on the porch like the dog
you didn't shoot behind the shed
the one that refuses to die
until you come home again
i told somebody once, that
you didn't even know
what my voicemail sounded like
i wonder if they thought
it was because you
are so important that i never
let it ring that many times
before picking up
or if you dont know
what it sounds like
because you've never called
you can't be the ****** weapon
and the search party
i'm tired of all the seats
to the ferris wheel in my chest
being empty
tired of your voice
being the one i look for
in abandoned places
that one sound i beg
to bounce back
down vacant hallways
i just seem to stand there
in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake
on an eviction notice
so i guess the hardest part
isn't letting go
it's forgetting
you ever had a grip
in the first place
and since you've been gone
i wonder if when
you pushed yourself away from me
you used your left hand
so it felt like someone else did it