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kenzo  May 2013
Had I Known
kenzo May 2013
Your pale grass colored eyes flickered towards me in the passenger seat;
cigarette out the window
I stare at my ruby colored lips in the side view mirror
You drum your fingers on the wheel to Blue Bossonova
I remember the dream catcher hanging from the mirror catching my eye;
a majestic golden hue from the sunlight reflecting off of it.

We weren't supposed to be driving the car,
We both knew this, but we were rebels
So I had climbed out my window without my parents knowing
ripping my jeans in the process
just to be with you.

Had I known it would be the last time I'd touch you;
Had I known it would be the last time I'd kiss your lips
I would have stayed in my bed
The Shins blaring through my headphones
Thinking about all the things I'm going to do with you

Had I known it would be the last time seeing you smile
The last time hearing you breathe
Hearing you talk
     Touching your skin
I would have obeyed my parents rules for once.

Instead of staring at your pretty green eyes
I stare at the pretty headlights coming our way
I feel the car swerve to the left;
the dream catcher falling
The car spinning like a dradle in the air
It was like everything were in slowmotion
As I look over at you in horror
your pale green eyes flicker away from mine
closing as if to say
"I'm sorry."
The car comes to a hault.
You were motionless as we were upside down
Tears fall down my ****** cheeks
I scream at you to wake up;
but you wouldn't
Then I stopped wasting my breath
I stopped
Like your heart

Had I known it would be the last time I'd touch you;
Had I known it would be the last time I'd kiss your lips
I would have stayed in my bed
The Shins blaring in my headphones
because now I'm fantasying about all the things we could have done

About all the things we could have said
like
"You're paying for the electrical bill this time."
or
"I do."
Now I'm stuck listening to Blue Bossonova
blaring in my headphones
thinking about all the things I'd have to do without you

Had I known
always anxious Dec 2018
I breathe in until I feel like my lungs might explode. I tighten my neck muscels and before I can think - My entire body is tense.

I'm trying to supress it. It has ruined so much but I will not let it ruin another moment...
I grind my teeth trying to supress it further, not realizing that grinding my teeth ... was a tic too.

Letting my mind slip for a second; I come to find that I have failed - once again
I flick my head, blink my eyes violently - turning the day into a stop motion movie - Once again I already know the plot.

Everything is moving in slowmotion around me - my body moving too fast to hold it in I fail - once again my body is dancing to a beat that is not mine.

I feel the pain in my neck. It is sore from giving into the neverending urge - once again it is strained from constant twitching and has been for god knows how long.

I try to ignore the pain and focus on supressing what's coming next, but being distracted by the pain I fail - once again I flick my head and exhale as fast as humanly possible. The exhale doesn't come alone - it never does. A pallette of sounds escape my mouth.

It was not me making those sounds, but the lungs affected by the pain are mine.
I feel the cycle starting over - once again.

It goes through me like a wave of energy.
I have been robbed of the control over my own body - once again.
The power to fight back has ... vanished.

I go to bed early but sleep late; battling this force with every shard of energy I could possibly have left - Once again leaving me exhausted enough to finally sleep, despite the constant twitching.

They say it's a chemical imbalance in my brain.
Too much dopamine is released.
As far as I'm concerned dopamine is a "Feel good hormone", so why does it make me so miserable?

I lay here thinking about when this cycle will end?
And when it finally does end, when will it restart? - Once again...
I suffer from tourettes syndrome. This poem is written about how it feels to have a tic attack
- an unknown length of time filled with constant tics. It can last anywhere from 2 minutes to 24 hours.
Sub Rosa Sep 2013
I am suddenly aware
of how the blood weighs me down
pooling around the black box
that lays frozen in the darkness
of my chest

My body caves in.
Melting into my own skin
into the slowmotion observed by
restless eyes
tired eyes

and I laugh
hollow
Pretending
I really feel
the laughter in my throat

Am I living?
I am just an illusion, I pray.

Reality answers
and I know
I am still whole
Not a pit beneath the eyes of the rest,
Not a spec of gray in the void,
Not a twisting memory fading
into the ether.

I am still flesh and streaming blood.
Still a moving, flexing creature.
Slowed down by ravenous
thoughts
about pain.

And when the hands that reached for me
with filthy intentions
retreat
I yearn for the filth,
I yearn for the feeling
of want.

I yearn for any feeling.
Any at all.
REVISED.
Laura  Jan 2015
mast indefra
Laura Jan 2015
dine flotte, bløde læber,
der burde møde mine,
hele mine brugte læber,
men i stedet,
langsomt mimer,
desperat
eller måske er det bare mine tanker,
for hver gang jeg ser dit navn,
så synker mit hjerte,
helt ned til mine fødder,
knuser alle mine organer på vejen ned
hver gang jeg ser dit navn,
så tænker jeg på den aften,
den følelse,
de læber,
den ydmygelse,
som ikke kan forstås, men kun føles

langsomt,
trægt,
som du var i slowmotion,
fuldstændig som jeg er der,
lige nu,
kan jeg mærke hvordan det føles,
dine flotte øjne, der ikke længere kiggede på mig,
men på jorden,
for at undgå mig,
dine flotte læber, der snakkede med hende,
i stedet for at snakke med mig,
din trang til at gå,
gå langt væk fra mig,
langsomt,
lige forbi mig,
langsomt,

og som dine flotte læber,
langsomt mimer,
desperat,
bevæger mit hjerte sig ned,
langsomt,
bliver jeg mast,
indefra
langsomt dræber synet af dit navn,
mindet,
mig,
hvad siger man så næste gang man møder dig
I look outside,
See all the things that I'm missing,
I feel empty,
Too scared to still make the change,
I follow the same old pattern,
The pattern that kills me,
While I'm still breathing,
I'm choking myself slowly,
It's like a disease,
I'm supposed to live,
But I've given up,
Given up in slowmotion.
z  Nov 2016
Crucible
z Nov 2016
It’s a bright night out tonight
a bright light like the light of a dead sun
bright enough to read by, to write by
star-studded? five hundred years ago it was;
and now,
while the night breathes in moist magenta
entrapping apartments beneath a wall of
light
is it day or is it night?

it’s red or it’s blue and it comes
still shafts of color, placid and turbulent like the plague
like locusts through the windows, open
like a woman walking in slowmotion
as the night advances in decomposition
and recomposes itself when the clouds lighten slightly
and morning comes wan, not bright
is it day or is it night?

when I was too young to know the moon’s movements
and naive enough to think that the
moon could shine as bright as the sun
I was confused, on a full moon
if it were night or day
and slept in my parents’ bed in uncomfortable doubt
if it were day or night

and now I am in my own bed
and the moon is nowhere to be seen
it’s a wet night in the city
a greenhouse, a science experiment
of its own light, under the magenta clouds, illuminated bright
I know it’s night
but it feels
not that way
feels like neither
night nor day.
z  Dec 2016
Landmark (old ver)
z Dec 2016
from the cold road: houses visible (without wires)
entrenched in white snow: sherd forest archaeology.
a painting on fire, freezing. a collage a frenzy.
now, various floaters organized in armies playing war
or grazing, flamingo legs embalmed and crooked
& cooked, charred and glazed in a kiln, kin amid
the cold air, the ground is a movie screen,
the dancers become shadows when the sunset
made me want to go home, made my head hurt;
winter light weaving through the trees.
light like a plague, a pear flesh, a frozen swarm of locusts
or a woman walking in slowmotion, the day decomposed.
those houses when we parked and hiked to them
were not houses, they were barns, the windows, doors
all were painted in detail on pieces of plywood,
some big movie set gone missing (headline: found!
deceptive, chipping curtains out in the cold by the road
).
Tøast  Jul 2018
High
Tøast Jul 2018
My life is an animation.
Just a cartoonists drawing as I drip and slide with the cosmic flow.
Bouncing off objects and seeping through the floor, deeper and deeper as I lose myself once again.
Neither existing or otherwise, just flowing and leaving it behind. Scene to scene, nothing more than a prescribed drop of emotions.
A slowmotion adventure as I explore possibilities.
IamThatGirl May 2018
I take a step, my heart´s a wreak,
I take another, my heart´s on fire,
I try to sneak past, but your anger is on a wreaking path,
one wrong step, one wrong move,
the flame is off, setting off you,
everything turns black, and it all is in slowmotion,
you throw your things, you are stuck in one emotion,
I try to survive and I try my best to make my inner demons go to rest,
so that i can be strong enough to put out the flame,
without getting burnt and feel all that pain,
but that is usually how it ends,
you strike it twice and you strike it again,
not because your mad but because you want to cause you pain,
and I love you so I rush there to save you,
I feel like I´m loosing you again,
but just as I try and stop you you power your defense,
now I´m not scared for you I am scared for me,
because I know you can control it,
because you are not thinking of me,
not in this second at least, and then you push too hard,
you´ve got me on my knees, you run out,
and everything is messy,
but at the end of the day you always come back you gather your senses and push away your pride,
to tell me you´re sorry and that its going to be fine,
but I have always wounder´ed were to draw the line.
Just needed to get this off my chest my bf has a serious anger management issue he has his first appointment to a therapist tomorrow which I think is the first step and I hope that he can get the help he needs.

— The End —