Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Here's to pianos.
To uncut toe nails and broken jaws.  
Here's to sweaty palms and fancy door knobs.
The last tissue in the box and third graders who know every single dinosaur.
Here's to prickly legs and furless cats.
Slamming doors and rubbing alcohol.
Fun house mirrors and wet towels.
Here's to the boy with the sweaty armpits,
And the biggest heart in the room.
Here's to all the girls who will never give him a chance
Because his hair is greasy
And he always has pieces of apple stuck in his braces.  
Here's to grandmothers holding their children's babies for the first
And last time.
Here's to six foot tall nine year olds
And acne covered foreheads.
North Ohio and beehives.
Here's to wrinkles and back pain,
And the kids who never change for gym class.
Here's to burnt papers and wrongful convictions.
Faked I love you's and backwards t shirts.
For every broken leg and broken heart,
Seasonal depression and ADD.
For unshaven armpits and ripped jeans.
Frequent showers and twisted ankles.
****** mattresses and forged signatures.
Here's to the things that remind me of you.
 Sep 2013 Siobhan A
samasati
you are like black magic,
a hidden lip underneath a night of grace; underneath the canopy
of old soul trees, stretching out above
to protect hearts from being
hurt;
but you,

you are like black magic
and cheeky lick kisses under ****** blankets.
you were a secret
you were a shame
you were a dose of mortifying pleasure;
a sore amount; a quarter of a cup; a batch of chocolate chip cookies
with just one egg,
splenda, not sugar,
tofu, not meat,
never enough;
but I’m a sucker for vegetarianism and anything
orthorexic – I’ve compared you
to my biggest demon
too often; so I should really know that
you’re toxic –

I dance alone
with my eyes closed
and you’re there; step step, close.
your fingers slide into the gaps between mine
and now we’re interlocking,
like a devil on my back;
I move with you; dancing to your heartbeat
step step step, hold me close
and never let me go
-- oh please let me go
-- oh maybe I should let go.

We’re Getting Older,
the lyrics in the song I am listening to
tell me;
but I feel young under your gaze
a time machine; taking me back to a year ago
in the winter
in the cold
under the open, black sky
because the trees are broken and little in the winter,
leafless,
and don’t have enough life in them
to protect my heart
from being hurt
(by you).
oh you,

you are like black magic,
and I am like a baby lioness,
proud and easily tamed.
 Jul 2013 Siobhan A
Tom McCone
I dreamt we were somewhere, I don’t know where, just far away from anywhere, on a soft-grassed singular hill amidst plains, rolling amongst forests and streams to distant mountains puncturing the crystal ocean of the sky at horizon. We sat on a thick blanket, with a picnic basket and no cares. A breeze ran along the carpeted grassfields and the sky blinked, washing the sparsely clouded above to a clutter of delicate stars in but an instant, hanging, two centimeters between stolen glances and the whispered fractions of my slowing heartbeat. I shuffled my lips to make words, but it was silent. Everything was silent, save for the distant murmur of twinkling lights, like drops of still water on the endless shoreline of morning, just waiting to fall once more.
You cut such an impressive figure
Standing large in my life
I look up at you
And I feel myself shrink back
The way a child does
When quieted by someone with power
I stand my ground
I keep my head held high
I give off the impression
That you and I are on level ground
That we see eye to eye
We are equals and I am strong
Am I strong enough to let you take the lead?
I fall in step behind you
Walking on the faith of another
But as I walk I falter
And I give myself away
There's such a struggle inside me
A child looks at you through my eyes
Who so wants to trust you
Who wants you to be the one
That finally rescues her
But that's not your role
This child that seeks to be rescued
Never will be
You won't fight the demons
That have bruised her innocence
So teach me how to hold her
This child that won't grow up
She got lost inside the storms
The demons hold her captive still
She resonates through me
Jarring my steps as I try to follow
Why should we trust you
When you won't **** the demons?
You say I'm the only one
Who can rescue my own heart
Such a lonely, painful truth
I become so angry and afraid
Angry that you see this storm
And say we must pass through
When the child believes you have the power to stop it
For a while
Angry that I couldn't stop the storm myself
That I couldn't walk alone
Angry that the demons came
And no one ever saw
Afraid of trusting you
Afraid you'll lead me in this storm and stop
That you'll just leave
When you realize how bad it truly is
That you'll see this chaos in my soul
And say it's too much to deal with
You'll leave me in the storm
Because I'm so broken
Like those who came before me
The bruises of innocence beaten
Remind me with every step forward
That we have been here before
So I walk on the faith of another
Hoping I can trust you
You aren't what I want
But you might be what I need
 Jun 2013 Siobhan A
Tom McCone
I pick small flowers from the curvature
of the nape of your
neck;                          
i wake up,        one minute:
you    are    
gone.            

I move on                
with my life,
i move out              
of these same walls,
like the                                                        
next                                                                
fervent                                                                          
dream,                                                        where I still  believe
I'm over                                          it,                                                      
I'm

just still kind of  
in love with  
you.  

i'm sorry always                                                                    
sorry i pretend                                                                        
like I                                                                                        
care                                                                                      
or                                                                                    
don't care                                                                            

and                                                                    

I don't really know where the hours  
went, or the years of life you wasted on
me.              
x
Next page