Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
You will not make sense to them and that's ok.
I had a fondness for star gazing until our eyes met
Grow up, they said
but even as I did
I lost some child like wonder

Now. All I could ever want
Is to grow back down.
Old
My skin doesn't fit anymore.
It's 2 sizes too big and my bones
live in a circus tent and my face
gaunt and eyes sunk in my skull.
I'll still write these poems so you
will be prepared for being old.
As I fall asleep
Thinking about you
Thinking what we could be
Things we used to do
Those late night conversations
5 am our bedtime
Baby you’re my salvation
Now there is no next time
There’s no more saving me
Cause I am ruined without you
I am a chaotic mess
My mind’s a ****** zoo
Caged thoughts
My heart’s numb
Feelings are mew
Liquor running in my veins
Those pills gonna get me through
Mama tells me every night
I believe her, I really do
But what about this crazy heart
Keeps asking for a doze of you*

S.L.
Lately, all the days have been turning into Mondays,
A job for the sun and a career for the moon,
A pencil sketched world with only shades of gray,
Stuck in sharp angles with no curves any soon.

Now Night is a Canson paper
Static with no signs of life

No room for poetry
nor the power of imagination

It's only a time for hours of sleep,
Eight to be precise

Behind the curtains
Dreams wait for an invitation

So I'm calling for all the stars to come nurse this disaster,
To bring back nights when staring out the window was enough,
I'm calling for them to patch all the hearts that ruptured,
To free those practical minds out of their handcuffs.
I take my straight lines and curve them for you,
Latching onto a tomorrow obscured from view,
'Cause as long as your empire towers over the days,
I'll mold to the ground to make this route one way.

My heart is matted for all your fist sized questions,
In a clean fashion, color coded answers are my defenses,
And my head twirls through volcanoes till it's desensitized,
A kind expression is all that your pleasantness comprises.

My memories are calenders unfurling with ink,
Cardboard supports my back for when the pages are flipped,
Hand gestures and one-word replies designed into loops,
So that the automatic reflexes start after a reboot.

Backgrounds have lost their intensities to a lone figure,
Every slip on a thin distraction calls for a trigger,
Stained-glass windows tell the story of a shadow in motion,
And the interior swears the remnants of a soul will never be awoken.

● ● ●
We're sitting next to a sunset,
The weather says how are you today,
Staring at the blue horizon,
For a moment you thought it'd stay,
But then it leaves like it always does,
And all the blue birds learn to fly,
Fueled by a sinking fear,
That they might disappear into the night,
When was the last time,
That it was okay, to be so juvenile,
A word lost in a closed book,
To judge life by a cover so beautiful.

We sat and talked in the looming warmth,
The sun's not gone, the waters are blue,
Tracing the peaceful tracks in our mind,
Twilight's shadow cast over the greys we drew,
And the dream was looped,
It started from the beginning every few seconds,
Dooming truths as illusions in this world,
Where memories are made from our favorite color palettes,
But oh sleep unlinked our hands,
As it branched into the shades of morning,
Once again your hair covered your face,
And our days went back to their habit of forking.*

● ● ●
Next page