Sarah Writes

Sarah Writes Nov 2013

Unicorn

When I was twenty one, I thought I'd probably find The One
I used to have a pretty good look, I walked around on stilts
I walked around like clouds
And saw people as rays of light
And then at twenty two I walked home alone in the dark
And I got lost after the bars
Got lost between the cars
So I just kept trying to leave like in a dream
I kept punching things, but my arms were too weak
To do anything but caress
And it was my funniest joke, the way I hid from the sun
I didn't like the way it let the world see so much
But in the dark things kept on falling apart
I had all sorts of cuts on my hands
And then one night at the bar I was screaming
I'm a ******* unicorn
Because I thought no one was listening
And in the dark, at the bar, in the cold and the smoke
Tainted water
I rested my head on your collarbone

Sarah Writes Oct 2013

My House

The strings of her heart are woven through his fingers and when she's sad, she leans back, lets the feeling of falling remind her that she's alive
And even though it only hurts
And even though it makes her want to die
She leans
Most of the time he leaves the strings slack, he's curled up inside himself
Inside all the tangles of his mind and that time he almost died
But when he feels strong, he gives a pull just to remind her that he's alive
Just a little tug to keep her on the ride

She bites, and it ******* stings
She slaps and lashes and apologizes night after night after
Night, and in the morning she is terrified
Because she knows that her strings are made out of knives
Because she knows what happens when you remove the blade, she's seen the blood on the tile
Seen the blood in his eyes
His strings are invisible
So she never knows what he wants
All ******* in him, he jerks and twitches, his strings are taut in the throes of invisible tides
So it looks like she's possessed on the other end of his lines
They're both so sorry
So much of the time

I am just a tangle of strings
Not particularly tied to anything
I ponder my knots with sticky fingers waiting
For the day when I decide to rip myself apart all over someone else
Just like all my friends

Sarah Writes Oct 2013

Disregard

There is no skin on my teeth to help me get by
And I sit still for days trying not to think about why
Dead trees painted brown is all that stands between me and the sounds
Of a thousand people living, but all they do is torture
Themselves, each other, it doesn't really matter
Because I hear them through the door, through the splinters in my ears
I'm surrounded by lovers and they're stealing all my air
They talk too much, too loud
There is no more room for me here
Too many people in my mouth, walking round and round my house
There is no more room for you here
My bed is cold and shrinking by the night
Disregard the dark it's just the shadow of my fool heart, disregard
The dark
I'll be here when it snows
I'll still be sleeping alone
I'll be here when he comes and still here when he goes
I won't make a sound
I won't pound this hollow ground, no mercy, no
Mercy, I am only scared, not sorry
Nowhere feels like home
I have nowhere left to go
And the house, it sits so cold

Sarah Writes Oct 2013

Everything Was Dying

It rained for five days straight
The sky washed us, washed
The summer down the river and when we woke up
All our freckles had gone and
Our hearts had slowed
The leaves had turned
Everything was beautiful
To distract us from the fact that
Everything was dying
And nothing hurt

Sarah Writes Sep 2013

Untitled

I want to be one of those bright people
Want to sparkle, want to shine
To say some words in the right order
Stir some souls to action
Or to beauty
Or to anything, really
That'll get remembered I'm just
Trying to leave something behind
But I'll never sing a song
Or own a stage
Never quite master a page
I cuss too much
And wasn't born nearly beautiful enough
I might be just ******* average
I might just have to ******* live with that
My culture is a vulture
She never feeds me
She steals all the good poems I try to write, says it's because
She only feeds on scraps
My scar tissue doesn't form any interesting shapes
It just stretches it's way across all the things I want to give my heart to
Shameless and afraid
Trust me, I'm aware of this ego trap, I don't really live here but
I built it myself, and it's a nice little home where I keep all my three-legged pets
They come out when I'm low and scuttle around my head, pointing out all the beautiful people my age
Who have already Done Something
Who have found their voices and changed people's lives
Or shredded their cards and headed out
Who have painted themselves onto canvases of every size
Who right now are probably somewhere that smells really good and has nice lighting, looking intolerably beautiful in the glow of some god ****** sunrise, lost in the mystery of creating things
Not sitting here, thinking like this

Sarah Writes Sep 2013

Sunday Morning *******

My favorite word is flesh, my favorite word is fear
My favorite days are the ones when I feel like I am here
My favorite feeling is lonely, favorite subject is love
I'm a sad little poet
In a sad little world
Where everything's nostalgic and everything is trite
I never believe a single word that I write
And neither, dear,
Should you

Sarah Writes Sep 2013

Circles Around the Moon

How old is the whale?
Older than the lines on your grandmother's hands
And how old is my heart?
Older than all the roots that hold down the dirt
That makes up this mountain
That harbors your heart
How old are the stars?
Where do I end?
And they begin?
The stars are older than words know how to be
And the light from every star that you see
Has traveled more miles and years than there are seeds in the ground
Than there are leaves in the trees
Or specks of dirt on your feet
Just to sparkle in your eyes here tonight
And those dark spaces in between the stars
Are just the places that the light has not yet reached