Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jun 2014 rivy
berry
Recovery
 Jun 2014 rivy
berry
recovery is not pretty.
it is not painless or simple or instant.
it is a road littered with backsliding and obstacles and doubt.
a path marred with reopened scars and sleepless nights and feigned smiles.

recovery is rubberbands and ice cubes and pacing and cigarettes.
it is phone calls at 3am when you can barely breathe and all the walls are closing in.
it is screaming at the ones you love because they love you too much to let you break your skin.

it is long sleeves and overly-cautious internet browsing and lots of movies.
it is eating way too much ice cream and taking walks in the middle of the night.
it is hard. recovery is hard. it is messy. it is painful and chaotic. but it is not impossible.
 Jun 2014 rivy
berry
your chest
 Jun 2014 rivy
berry
ill
    at
        the
             thought
of
   her
        head
                 in
                     the
                          spot
where
           mine
                    ought
                               to
                                   be
but
      is
         not
                 -
 Jun 2014 rivy
berry
bed
 Jun 2014 rivy
berry
bed
bed
keeper of secrets
catcher of tears
bringer of restoration
a sea of blankets
sanctuary,
solace
the only flaw being-
it's half empty

- b.
 Jun 2014 rivy
berry
winter love
 Jun 2014 rivy
berry
you were graceless and broken
- all in secret
ravenous for affection
a blue-eyed devil
with good intentions
and better hands

- b.
I like to poison myself. It gives me health. Sheds strength onto my day. Makes the long boring times flutter away. I'll flutter away, into thin space. In my head, I begin again, waking for the evening. Hungry, foolish, eventful. Full of ***** and surprise. Dizzy, dainty, laughing, tourists go by, blinking their eyes into the distance. Do you ever zone so deep into your thoughts; fear you might get lost? Losing yourself into the day break. All costs for namesake. If I shall die, tell everyone goodbye for me. I've never truly hated anyone. I've been lost, I lose my socks, dreamed of making love on a boat-dock. We'll evolve into something greater, see to it that it goes as planned. Build yourself, create your world, environment is a whirlwind of emotion, challenge, and occasionally suicidal games of the awkward, outcast, *******. Fatherless is quite a strange sort of happiness, no one there to guide me, sister's fail almost entirely. Didn't help much, putting forth the wrong effort into focusing on all the wrong things, tragedies, thrills, scares, chills. Seems unreal. Looking back, wishing I'd been more tactful, nonetheless I love who I am, without those dreadful thoughts, situations, spot of no control and memorizing rebellious on my part, wasn't sure where to start. I have a heavy, dense, intricate heart. Complications make yourself. Take them, make them, break them, start from scratch, scratch your eye patch. Successful endeavors beat you, overcome them. You win again with that awful sly grin.
 Jun 2014 rivy
Lex
Love
 Jun 2014 rivy
Lex
You chase after me as I run towards the light.
You're panting, worrying where my rushing body is headed.
You catch up to me and pause abruptly.
Your jaw drops in awe, gaping at the sight before you.
You see myself, in a white dress, skipping through the field of sunflowers and daisies.
You walk over to me, grasping my hand and smiling at me.
I look at you with a grin and point to a particular daisy on the ground.

"I love that one." I say quietly.

"So pick it up." You respond.

I shake my head quickly.

"Why not?" You ask.

"Because when you love something, let it be. For love is a feeling, not a possession."

"Oh." You reply.

"That's why I've never kissed you. Just because I love you doesn't mean that I need to have you." I shrugged.

Your eyes widen in shock, never having never heard me say those words before.

"But I need to have you," you whisper, gently tilting my head up to reach yours kissing my lips ever so softly and gently.
~excerpt from a story I'm writing :3~
 Jun 2014 rivy
ky
trace
 Jun 2014 rivy
ky
we lay there,
you with your back turned
to me.
i used
my fingertips
to trace
the words
my mouth
never has the
courage to say.
and you just fell asleep.
and i'm starting
to think that's a metaphor
for what you'd do
if i let you
hear what my heart
has been *screaming
 Jun 2014 rivy
wandabitch
crayola
 Jun 2014 rivy
wandabitch
there is a mantle of color
on your shoulders;
held by the music
of your eyes.

framed by
the black and white
of time
drawn in the moments
of our lives.

blue and red
mix well
i hear.
kinda like us
Next page