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 May 2015 Victoria McJunkin
ryn
Make me your emblem
Adopt my colours
Let them be seen
Through actions and verse

Make me your flag
Fly me high upon the sturdiest masts
Watch me billow with purpose
Catching the wind that forever lasts

Make me your anthem
With truth in words that rings so clear
Sing me loud and true
Sing me always for all to hear

Make me your creed
Pledge yourself to always uphold
My name in thoughts and writes
Emblazoned across as your brand in gold

Make me your home
Your shelter for when the day's done
A safe haven to return to
With the setting of the sun

Or just...

Make me someone...*
Anyone...
So at least I know that I exist
Make me a simple somebody in your life
Not just a name on a forgotten list
Inspired by Depeche Mode's Somebody
I don't want to let you go
For I miss you before the goodbyes
I drive home looking at the empty seat
I know it'll be filled tomorrow
But that's too long to wait
I go home and hold this pillow
In hopes for when I wake up its you
One day it will
You'll be there when I go to bed
You'll be there when I wake up
You'll be there when I come home
When I'm sick you'll take care of me
When I'm upset you'll make me laugh
When I'm old you'll be by my side
I'll love you till the day I die and then I'll search for you in heaven or hell
Till I find you again and love you till the end of eternity
You may not believe me till the rings on your finger
Soon that'll happen and you'll finally believe me
But for now,
I'll continue to tell you I love you a thousand times a day
I'll continue to hold this pillow and hope it's you
I'll continue to look forward to see you sitting next to me in that once empty seat
And after all this I'll continue to love you till you're forced to believe me
And it all starts now with an I love you
I love you so much
 Mar 2015 Victoria McJunkin
ryn
I don't seek your permission...
To write about the what, why and how.
It could be a haiku or come in the shape of a cow.

I don't need your approval...
When I don't sound the least bit poetic...
In my mismatched metaphors or ill-rhymed acrostic.

I'm not asking for your blessing...
When I pen down and put up what I think...
Be it in cloying cliches or in tear drenched ink.

I don't crave for your understanding...
When my 10 word poems weren't filtered through your poetic lens,
Or if my contributions in collaborations lack in sense.

I don't hope for your likes...
If my content does not tickle your fancy,
Or if my words just rubs you silly.

I mean no disrespect...
But don't be too quick to click on the 'comment' button.
Private messaging has been put there for a reason.

I don't mean to cramp your style...*
You're entitled to your own opinions of course...
But if you've got nothing good to say, please save it and shove it up yours.
.
This is a peaceful community, almost sacred to many. All bearing a heart (hale or ailing) are welcome to spill their ink... Regardless of writing experience or poetic prowess.

Bear in mind that people write for various reasons. Some are really good at it, some are just barely starting. Some ask for feedback, some just want an outlet.

So... Be nice. Use the private messaging feature if you really need to offload your thoughts on another's text offering.

Respect and be respected.
.
you are the song
i want to listen to
in that cliché and timeless
3am moment on the highway
windows rolled
down with the
potential-filled and empty
yet comforting indigo
sky blowing past,
only car on the road
just us, me with my
feet up on the dash,
fingers interlocked with
yours on my lap,
headlights illuminating
the road and trees
ahead, can’t think about
anything else except
for the pulse of the night
and cold air on my skin
and oh God
this is my life and
i feel so alive
 Feb 2015 Victoria McJunkin
ryn
People cheat,
people lie

To get ahead
or
just to get by.

They do it out of deemed necessity
or
have made it a successful habit.

Some would feel bad,
but
some wouldn't lose sleep over it.

Some lie to protect...
Some lie to infect...

With little remorse
or
full blown guilt.

Either way
risking
all they've built.

A lie is an accessory
that most tend to abuse.
A convenient mask
for the ugly truth
that most would misuse.

Lies are...
The bane of relationships
Destroyer of trust...
Conveyed by irresponsible lips.

So have I ever lied?
Have I ever desecrated
honesty's pride?
Have I ever wielded it
to save others from harm?
Have I ever employed it
to boost my charm?

No I haven't,
now that's a lie...
Spouted that so easily,
I didn't even need to try...

Honestly,
YES I HAVE.
I am no exception...

I am no saint,
I'm only human
...
with an ill sense of direction.



I have lied...
How about you?

Search deep inside...
*You know you have too...
first a date, then a kiss
love songs are made of this
you’ll say I’m beautiful
I’ll love your smile

you’ll promise crazy things
I’ll dream of diamond rings
we can be innocent
just for a while
In high school, I used to crawl
past my dad’s side of the bed so I could whisper,
at midnight, to my mom that I was leaving
and going to your place, and that I’d be back
by five in the morning, because I was that good girl
in the knee-high socks with the headband
that matched my uniform. So, I told my mom
that I was going over, watched her sleepy eyes
drift back to her pillow corner. I’d start my car,
put on that sappy John Mayer song you hate,
but know I love, and head through the center of town
on the ghost roads, driving like a memory
with four wheels and only three more miles to go.
You’d let me in the back door, careful not to shut the door
to the kitchen too tight, and we’d kiss
under the aquarium light.

I’d watch the shatters
of light split with the blades of your ceiling fan
as you’d remind me over and over again
with your words that I couldn’t stay long
while your hands pulled me in closer to your chest.

You were the first bad thing I let myself have.

I’d have to leave before your dad would get up for work,
so I’d pull on my sweatpants, wipe the makeup
from beneath the crease of my eyes, kiss you goodbye
for who knew how long it would be that time, and I’d cry
in the car the whole way home
because I knew that we were like grains of sand
in an hourglass
just waiting for our turn to fall.
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