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Dean Mar 2019
she slipped away
running from my form
as i locked my heart back in it's cage
throwing away the key
i give up
Dean May 2019
i’m sorry that i cant
and never could be enough.
i’m sorry that this hurts so bad
and i can’t even tell you.
Dean Jan 2019
life is short
life will pass you by, a pebble in a river
one you will never see again.
you thought he gave you purpose
because you crave his lips like you do air
and once he's gone
all you can have is a simple text that he might be okay.
when did it all go wrong?
because now your heart is in a cage
and the key you once hid is now thrown away,
never to be given again.
i need help
Dean Feb 2019
Sliding the glass up and open; I’m out,
Fluid, silent, smoke creeping through a crack.
Heavy air sits atop my chest, I shout
To the dreams that are never coming back.
But oh! Why must you leave after each night,
What, with the risk of never returning?
I crave your gleaming, and cry as I might
You leave me sitting in the rain, mourning.
And though the fireflies stay beside me,
The pit pat of driz’ling water up high,
And dew on the grass give me company,
Tis your constellations that catch my eye;
Easing me to sleep when you come to show,
I lay in slumber on the roof; you go.
I actually wrote an sonnet, following shakespearean rules both rhyming and syllable wise. I've very proud of this and it have an immense deep meaning to me.
Dedicated to: him
Dean Jan 2019
I am an ocean child
I come from wavering seas of green and blue
Clashing colours of soldiers
I sit on the bottom below the waves
Letting water fill my ears and nose
Pressure on my head
Weighing me down
Pushing
Throbbing
Tugging
Pulling aching
But it does not hurt
For I am a child of the ocean
Dean Jun 2019
i’m afraid to write about him
in case he leaves me too.
as i sit here in bed with my curtains closed,
another day completely the same,
a never ending cycle of nothing,
he lays on the other end of the phone.
and i’m too afraid to hang up,
in case he leaves me too.
why do i keep doing this to myself
Dean Mar 2019
for once in my life i'm mad at you
i'm mad that you got me to love you,
when you knew it was going to end.
i'm mad at you for keeping secrets
and lying when i first asked.

i'm mad that I'm still in love with you,
and that i miss the taste of your lips
and sound of your voice.

i'm mad that i crave your touch
and give up the anger when you call.

i hate you.
i hate that i need you.
Dean Jan 2019
The building I live in, with a single room of sanctuary and safety.
Fireflies in the dark when the lights are out,
Polaroid pictures of treasured memories, of people I long to protect.
A gentle patter of rain, the drip, drip, drip of a leak on an open window.
A breeze of dew and humidity filling my nose, a golden beam illuminating me.
Rubber tires slowing in the puddles across the pavement.
I sing. A distraction.
i really like this website, i’m glad i found it when i did
Dean Aug 2019
i kept going
Dean Jan 2019
He will tie the strings of the masks each day,
Waiting ‘til the set of suns to remove it from its grasp:
Tugging on skin. First, the heaviest of all,
Abhorring the world for granting him the greatest burden;
Infuriated for not gaining the choice of first breath.
Purity of immense emotion, coursing through newly opened lungs.
Second, the hungriest: Shoving the mask aside to consume life,
Delectable love filling tables, now made just to fill his stomach…
Only to fall to the ground, clutching himself at thus, no longer hungry.
Third, a mask stuck to his face and peeling skin with attempts to remove it;
Falling to his knees, he looks up,
Up to those above him, begging the skies for such a life- for such freedoms.
A wide smile forming beneath, teeth gleaming with a chuckle:
He simply wants what they have.
Fourth, the lies of all veils, God, why create such a mask?
He shall look across the room to eye the other, blood pounding in ears:
Pulsing, drumming, begging needing wanting standing to ask for just-
A dance? But he hides his soul beneath the mask and shall continue to the end.
The fifth, an arrogant fellow of such. His branch most sophisticated,
His tree the strongest but the sprouts below?:
Changing too much for his own approval, despite the brightness of their leaves,
For he was the one recognized by the sun.
Sixth, leather with a hollow beak scented with crimson carnations.
Folds and wrinkles, creaking bones soon to turn dust,
Why would he rise from his wooden chair? Rocking
Back, and forth, back, and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth-
Snap. Crack.
But he is not prepared, he is far from hopeful, the sand falling quickly.
He does not wish any longer to wear the last mask:
Number seven.
The previous six shatter and tumble to the ground, now mirrors in the soil.
He looks upon the shards, lungs gasping at the sight:
A man, yet not a man. A demon, yet far from such.
He hungers for the gift of first breath, for the love fed to him,
For the freedoms, for the dance, for the trees and for the petals.
He is not prepared to go,
For wasn’t it once said,
That hell is empty, and all the devils are here?
Perhaps the lenses in this one shall show him truth, or perhaps not.
this was inspired by shakespeare's seven stages of life poem, and i decided to do my own take on what my seven stages of life are.
Dean Mar 2019
i think i'm still in love with you
but i'm scared
because there's someone new
Dean Mar 2019
just like a creek
a stream of water
slipped through my fingers

she's gone
again
Dean Jan 2019
i miss you
i miss you like i miss getting high in my backyard at dusk
and it’s not the smoke that hurts my eyes.
i miss you like i miss the slide of alcohol down my throat when i give up calling you.
and it’s not the alcohol that burns.
but i don’t have to miss those anymore.
the only thing i’m missing now is
you
this is kinda dark and some of my work will start getting more so. this is just a heads up, things are really rough right now and i take break ups pretty hard. feel free to take this literally or metaphorically i don’t mind
Dean Jun 2019
i was right yet again
and i’m too tired to write anything good
i’m just tired of the hurt
and not knowing what to physically do with myself
because sleep isn’t an option
as all i’ll dream about his him
when i lose consciousness after three hours
Dean Jan 2019
clock ticking over and over again
pick up pick up pick up pick up
pick up the phone
clock ticking comes to a stop
wow i write a lot, but i don't feel bad for posting so much? i don't feel like I'm bothering anyone for once
Dean Jan 2019
A rusty chain wrapped around my ankles
Holding my legs together
Holding me down
I didn’t even know it was there till two rotations ago
Rotations circling the sun
A beautiful orb of gold and warmth sending rays through the clear blue
Even when I shiver now without the comforting rays
I will be alright
For I am a boy of the ocean
And that is enough for me
wow these are actually getting a little bit of attention, honestly just one person reading my stuff is exciting and makes me feel so much better about my writing.
Dean Mar 2019
you've put me in
to cardiac arrest
Dean May 2019
i’m a liability.
i don’t really care if you like me or not,
it’s like you told me, go forward slowly
then i fall and then i know.
cross off the ones that heard my cries and watched me weep.
we move like the ocean, but i can’t swim anymore.
like cardiac arrest, high voltage when we kiss,
i cant promise you that i won’t let you down.
could we be as close as we felt before again?
i won’t let you choke on the noose around your neck,
sometimes i wanna disappear.
none of these are my own words, simply lyrics from a playlist i listen to when things are complicated. they sounded cool combined.
Dean Jan 2019
My fins web between blue tinted fingers and toes
Hair flowing over pointed ears with kelp streaking from them
I listen, listen past the waves
The water
The sand I sit upon with bare skin
Gills drifting in the sea
Somehow they help me breathe
Even when I am tethered to the bottom of the sea
child of the ocean is actual quite a long series of small poems, you don’t have to read them in order? but there is a story to them :) here’s one of those parts
Dean Mar 2019
i held you for a night
and now things are different

what changed?
god I'm so confused
Dean Feb 2019
shirt off, golden rays shining on pale skin.
my necklace,
turned backwards as i tossed and turned in the night.
your fingertips gracing my skin
as you undid the hook
and placed the jewelry on the bedside table.
i turned to see your face, eyes gleaming back at mine.

but it was just a dream,
and you’re turned away as i wake to snow outside.
so i cry silently as i wait for you to wake.
this happened this morning and i’ve never wanted a dream to continue more in a long time.
Dean Jan 2019
the strokes of color painting the sky when the sun says goodbye.
the can of soda, countless more, sitting on the bedside table.
the final chapter of a book, scent of parchment in the air.
the lights in my apartment at 3 in the morning.  
the feeling of your lips pressed against mine
moving in sync as if it is known
that you and i are deeply
in love and
warmth
sparks
move
with
me
but
you start
to drift away
and the sensation
is only just that once
you are gone and pulling away
all of these a vestige, and you are mine
ves·tige: noun
a trace of something that is disappearing or no longer exists.
Dean Apr 2019
a dance going back and forth,
a consistent struggle as i cry yet search for another.
but our dance has come to an end,
an end you accepted far before i ever could,
and yet here i am.
sitting on the bench, taking off my shoes.
staring across the room as i let out a sigh.
i’m okay now.
we
Dean Feb 2019
we
we met when we were little, the world at our command.
we drifted for years, rejoicing when we once met again.
we were confused together, crying when we discovered we held the same secret.
we fell in love, at least, i did.
we held onto that love for years, a campsite i will truly never forget.
we drifted once more, a month i can never endure again.
i yelled over the phone, head pounding and voice tearing.
i dry heaved on the side of the road, hanging up.
i missed you.
i found you again, but it was always different.
and now
we grew up too fast
Dean Jan 2019
i wish to be angry with you
to tear the earth apart
and scream at the sky until my voice is torn.
to cut off my wings and fall to the ground
collapsing in the sand.

i wish to be happy for you
to smile when you talk about him
and go along with the two of you.
to laugh at his jokes
and pretend nothing is wrong until i get home:
falling back into the sand and creating an ocean.

but i can not find an in between,
and i can be neither.
for all i can do is pray to relive the memories i hold so dear.
to remember the night you helped me realize i like cookie dough ice cream,
to remember the river that pulled us along,
but it was okay because we were dragged together.
to remember the days we danced alone with a playlist made especially for us.
our song.

i’d give my happiness,
i’d give my love,
i’d give my wings of shining white.
there is nothing on this earth i wouldn’t give

just to kiss your lips once more.
this is about a boy, a boy i’m helplessly in love with
Dean Feb 2019
a song i play on the piano
a melody whose meaning can change with the tempo:
fast- for the autumn walks and sneaking out at 1 am,
holding hands and running in the rain to the gas station,
blaring our favorite music in the basement,
the world light and the scent of ***** in the air.
a pleasant high as we dance together.

but then i play it slow- for when i called you in the dusk,
dry heaving on the side of the road as i sobbed,
begging for the truth, pleading and weeping for just the truth,
hanging up when you finally do,
tears filling the streets as i scream,
i go home numb and put my headphones in,
ignoring the world for months.
i miss those nights, before...
Dean Feb 2019
that a boy could be so pretty
Dean Feb 2019
I'm stuck in a black hole, itching to escape.
Your eyes are the center, tugging, pulling, holding me in.
I thought I could handle the lack of change:
Continuing to fall asleep on the phone,
Drifting into unconsciousness to the sound of your voice;
Reading to me in the dark.
An inhale of smoke, easing my stress
As eighties music plays inside with us on the back porch.
I thought I'd found a wormhole,
An ability to continue living this identical life to when you were once
...
mine.
But there is no wormhole to a broken heart.
I'm trying to move on but it's so, so hard.
Dean Jan 2019
My house is the one with connected yards,
Privacy lacking when the tree fell, only to be replaced by ones still short.
From wearing baggy hoodies and soft fabrics,
Shoes overworn and broken in from lack of care.
Wavelengths downloaded to my phone, simply sounds of anger,
Yet I am from the soothing words of Prince and The Beatles - from my dad -
A bridge cracked, a new one being paved.
i miss life before
yet
Dean Mar 2019
yet
and yet in the span of an hour
my heart has started up again
longing for someone it once beat for

for you said it was your favorite sound
with your hand against my chest
as i sobbed in your arms.
i thought i was over him

— The End —