Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
36.7k · Apr 2014
pluie d'été Apr 2014
the old people
the young people
to never
trust someone who lies
or who talks badly
about someone
that they love
or barely know
but the young people
never listened
and now
they don't trust
25.1k · May 2014
Your smile
pluie d'été May 2014
i think you
are beautiful
and that your eyes
are like a river

your words
fall like drizzle
on the lashes
of my eyes

your smile
makes my heart
into my lap
and weighs
down my steps
6.0k · Apr 2014
thunder & lightening
pluie d'été Apr 2014
You can't save me
With you smoke veiled eyes
Filled with honesty and deceit
Your words
Falling like the ocean
Deafens me
With their beauty
In silence
And it's not enough
Those lines
About me
In the tattered notebook
My initials
On your skin
And scarred
Like the rain in the sky
With echoes
Like thunder
Following the sobs
You hide behind your calloused hands
Can't you ever
Show me the lightening
Because that's the only thing
I need to see

And the thunder
From me
Is all you need to hear
But my lightening
Is what you get to see
And you think it's everything
But how can everything
Last only a second?
4.5k · Jun 2014
pluie d'été Jun 2014
makes the ink patterns
on hearts

the stars
become one
and trees
to be bound
like the tigers
around our wrists

swallow the gin

forget to exhale

there aren't any trees
to make oxygen
4.3k · Mar 2014
i shouldn't
pluie d'été Mar 2014
i shouldn't still miss you
i shouldn't still have
this ache
in my soul
i shouldn't still love you
so much
the way i always did
but i still do
4.0k · Mar 2014
pluie d'été Mar 2014
we are just the ghosts
of the trees above you

the ones that allow
the golden light
of the sun
to fall
on your bare skin

the ones that make
with the wind
never ending
and every thunderstorm

we are the ghosts
of the beauty
brown and scarred
to become white
and stained
with ink
the echoes of your speech
3.7k · Oct 2014
pluie d'été Oct 2014
do you know the rain
he asks
it's never alone
he says

almost like you

but it's not
and i am not

i am
a raindrop
between other raindrops

we become a translucent
(we are not blue)

you are mistaken
i whisper
and a raindrop
slips down
along the curve of his neck
3.2k · Feb 2014
Never Trust a Writer
pluie d'été Feb 2014
never trust a writer
because their words
flung into the air
in a whisper
a scream
or dropped
in silence
on the emptiness
of a forgotten stillhouette
has the power
to lead you astray

never trust a writer
because they find beauty
in everything
especially sadness
amd the grey
grey sky
that falls at your feet
along the shadow
of your heart
the one you beg
for them to break
to make you

never trust a writer
because they don't always
trust the words
that tumble from their own
perfect lips
they say them for
their beauty
in the sound
in the silence
they say them
for the way they rhyme
with 'forever'

never trust a writer
because he can capture
your soul
with just a look
holding you
the entire universe
and all eternity

never trust a writer
because they may talk
but they dream with their eyes
and closed
and you can never
be sure
which character they have chosen
for you
which character
they have chosen to be
to you

never trust a writer
because their emotions
not always visible
consume them
like a strike of lightening

never trust a writer
because they always
what you want to hear
and what they really
want to say

never trust a writer
because their knowledge of love
is as infinite
as the emptiness
in the black sky
moments of clarity
that create an atlas
of who
they fall for

never trust a writer
because normal in life
is never normal
in their dreams
and they always
last longer

never trust a writer
because 'I'll love you for now'
sounds better
when they say it
as 'I'll love you

never trust a writer
because I swear
they do not believe
in the emptiness
of promises
and they will let you
break their souls
just to see
what happens after
2.8k · May 2014
pluie d'été May 2014
i say
that you are like the sunset

you think that i say it
because you're beautiful
but it's because

you're always saying
2.7k · Mar 2014
One Day
pluie d'été Mar 2014
One day
I want to write a poem
That captures your soul
In the adjectives
Describing the sky

One day
I want to write a sentence
That you will carry
In your memory
Scarred and stained
For an infinity

One day
I want to write a short story
Of a guy
A lot like you
And a girl
A lot like me
With no lies
Only honesty
And a forever that lasted
Just a while

One day
I want to write a paragraph
About the sea in you
And the sea in me
And how we fell in
Each other
And never needed to come up for air

One day
I want to write a dictionary
With all of our own definitions
Of everyone else's words
It will start from the letter Z
And end on A
Because it will be easier
That way

One day
I want to write an essay
On how the sunlight
Made patterns on your skin
Even after you lied
And shadowed the constellations
Screaming honesty
Into the dark

One day
I want to write a novel
About the way your voice
And his voice
Just before
You both were about to cry

One day
I want to write lyrics
For the song
I meant to sing to you
About the moon
And the sun
And how they dance
Whenever all of our eyes are closed
Even if it's just for a second
Always travels faster
Than sound)

One day
I want to write you a telegram
With someone else's hand
To tell you
How much I miss you
And how my heart
Is not in my chest anymore
It's shattered across the sky
Just for you to see

One day
I want to write you a letter
To tell you
That you didn't know what love is
And neither did I

I still love you
2.5k · May 2014
pluie d'été May 2014
How I long
To have been
Locked into Never  Land
With you
And Peter Pan
And all the other
Lost Boys

I would give
The greatest
A kiss
If only
I would
Be able to be
In your arms
2.4k · Jul 2014
pluie d'été Jul 2014
i turn out all the lights
and stumble
in the dark

because all i see
with the lights on
is electricity
and certainty

sometimes it's better
to almost
stumble down
the stairs
and be saved by shadows
of paleness
2.3k · May 2014
pluie d'été May 2014
once upon a time
an old woman
a young girl
and asked her
if she wanted to know
what was going to happen

how do you tell
asked the young girl
who had eyes
the colour of rain

the old woman
lifted up the young girl's fingers
to trace her smile
i read about you
she said
her voice

a feather fell in the young girl's
raven hair
and the old woman
picked it up
and put it in her own

who wrote about me
asked the blind girl
without realizing
what the old woman
had just done

the old woman
kissed her smooth cheek
clouds forming
in her eyes
and left
with all of
her uncertainty
2.2k · Mar 2014
pluie d'été Mar 2014
We pressed our palms together
And my fingertips
Grazed a third of yours

You wrapped your thumb
And little finger
Around my wrist
And said that you could come
To my wedding
Mine couldn't reach
Around yours

I should have seen
Straight away

We made promises
Under falling
Purple flowers
That kept getting stuck in my hair
Using the curves
In our pinkies
Instead of our souls

And we thought it would be enough
To use our hands
To make a heart
Representing our love
Couldn't we see
It was uneven?

When our words
Were too much
Erasing the maps
To our minds
We would reach out
Coming closer
Drifting apart
Why didn't we notice
Our bodies
Not lying beside our shadows
Underneath your cracking window
2.1k · May 2014
pluie d'été May 2014
he plays a song for me
on his guitar
his fingers
and hands

sad eyes
a liar's

i look away
tear out the page
he wrote
'love until
i should never
have given you
a pen
2.1k · Mar 2014
pluie d'été Mar 2014
i want my window
to pull me closer
keep me cool
with it's breeze
but it can't
because if it did
i would be even warmer
2.0k · Apr 2014
pluie d'été Apr 2014
sunlight staining
the windowpanes
casting cool gold
through the shutters
your hands
slipping across
my rib cage
i wish
they were warm
pluie d'été Jan 2014
he woke up beside the girl
with the universe
in her sad eyes

running his fingers
through her tumbled hair
watching stillness
and memories of the future
flicker across her invisible mind

he traces the fragility
of her ribs
feels something
underneath her skin

where is your heart
he whispers
so softly
and she hears his voice
succumbing to her dreams and nightmares
void of longing
taints the sky

cracking and heavy
her walls want to fall
she keeps herself
to the stars
in the night
and feels him move away from her
pulling her closer
1.6k · Apr 2014
pluie d'été Apr 2014
"We are plagued
More by presence
Than absence"
He says
Under the cold moon
His hand
Wrapped around my heart
"And sometimes
The plague
And the cure
Are the same"

It's a lie
Because I lie awake
Counting the cracks
In my ceiling
(The ones
The paint couldn't fill)
And the shadows
They make
Chases my soul
And pins it
Against the wall

You are absent
And I have
A greater fever
Than ever before
1.6k · Aug 2014
pluie d'été Aug 2014
you have left
a crime scene
inside of my head

stain the glance
from my eyes
with gray
and give me a kiss
whenever i say
saving me
with a tragedy
that makes me so happy

steal my heart
with your brown eyes
the way we so carelessly
throw away
the dreams we could be having
(i prefer your words

won't you
become my anchor
and pull me close to you
whenever we need to
float away

1.6k · Apr 2014
To Be A Writer
pluie d'été Apr 2014
to be a writer
smother your
racing thoughts
until they break through
their breath
unable to be extinguished
by your doubting fear

to be a writer
is to stay awake
until the sun starts
breaking apart the darkness
at the edge
of the earth's seam
with an full page
of words
that you won't be able to read
when you wake up
at noon

to be a writer
is to think
not only for yourself
but for every character
locked in your soul
trying to reach out
for their thoughts
and words
to stretch across
the lined

to be a writer
is to think
for everyone else
you know
and form thought bubbles
and back stories
for the strangers
you meet on the street

to be a writer
is to see the beautiful
in the ugly
and the ugly
in the beautiful

to be a writer
is to become hypnotized
by the parts
of the people
we smile at
their eyes
the way their fingertips
trace the rim
of their coffee cup

to be a writer
is to dream
and remember
to dream
and forget
we meant to say

to be a writer
is to read
a billion words
of a million
to memorize
the curve
of the pen in a sentence
the neat font
in a book
so much emptiness
that it fills you

to be a writer
is to choose to drown
in doubt
because all the stories
you read
and right-
even if they aren't
real life-
aren't always nice

to be a writer
is to love words
and to hate them
love him
or her
and to hate
or her
found in seperate others
a cycle
of their ghosts
haunting us
like the time
slipping away
too fast

to be a writer
is to choose drowning
over living
just to see
the sunlight
flickering through the waves
and feel how the shadows
it's absence feels across your skin

to be a writer
is to always begin
but sometimes
leave the end
1.6k · Mar 2014
don't close your eyes
pluie d'été Mar 2014
let me drown my sorrows
in your eyes
above me

taking turns to caress
our skin
the wind
stirring the leaves
in the autumn

don't close your eyes
you are
about to save me
1.4k · Feb 2014
empty promises
pluie d'été Feb 2014
sometimes i wake up
in the darkness
and long for the emptiness
of you
beside me

caressing me
with your absence
i drown in the sorrow
you have surrounding us
cloaked in dark honesty
and lies
fill of light

how dare we
make empty promises
underneath such a full sky
1.3k · Aug 2014
pluie d'été Aug 2014
there are two paths
to take

when society
begins to destroy itself

I. stay and make it slightly better


II. run away.
1.2k · Jul 2014
a book is not an escape
pluie d'été Jul 2014
i do not read
to lock myself
or to hide
nestled between
printed pages

a book is not an escape

because i don't read
to forget
why my heart is shattered
or to chase away
the eyes
that haunt me
at night

a book is not an escape

i do not read to be transported
from this world
to another
leaving it all

a book is not an escape

i do not read
with the intention to laugh
or to cry
or to fall in love
with the ideals of a lie

a book is not an escape

i do not read
for the wings words give me
or the ability to breathe
under waves

a book is not an escape

i do not read
to be able to feel
or to get wiser
(a contradiction)
or to be free
or captured
in the bars
by adjectives

a book is not an escape

i only read to be me
1.2k · Apr 2014
To Be Yours
pluie d'été Apr 2014
If I were yours
I would have to stay awake
Until six in the morning
Wondering where you are

If I were yours
I would have to pretend to be asleep
When you finally got in
And stained with smoke
And bruises

If I were yours
I would wear your favourite colour
And the clothes you like
And the perfume
That makes you
Lose your mind

If I were yours
I would let you full my ears
With your honesty
And your lies
Discerning the two
Pretending I don't
Until you were at ease

If I were yours
I would do
What ever you asked
Reading your eyes
Right and wrong
Aren't black
And white
But grey

If I were yours
You would have me
Every night
Whichever way
You like me best

If I were yours
My words would
Just be for you
And the only lines
Leaking from my fingertips
Would be love poetry
About you

If I were yours
I would listen to all of your music
Even though I would hate it
(I don't like songs
That rhyme
Too often
Too much)

If I were yours
I would forget how the rain
Feels on my skin
Because you would tell me
To stay indoors
And my love
For the sky
Would slip away
Until I would call your eyes
The sky
And the rest of you the ocean

If I were yours
I would forget me
And you would forget me
I would become
Your perfection
Encased in the mirror
Behind the door
The one you dream of
Standing beside you

And you still
Wouldn't only be
1.2k · Apr 2014
pluie d'été Apr 2014
What if the Moon was a Triangle
The Sun was a Heart
The Stars were Circles
The Earth was an Oval
And We were all Rectangles
Unable to figure out
How to hold Each Other
Without becoming Squares
1.2k · Apr 2014
Vanilla and Lies
pluie d'été Apr 2014
I don't believe you
Because the lines
You say
Sound too much
Like poetry

The apology
You wrote
And pressed into my palm
Staining my fingers
With black ink
Too much
Like vanilla
And Lies

Everything you say
Is the truth
But maybe
It's all a lie
And I will never know
And you will never know
Because I do
Exactly the same
When I say
'I do too'

Only realizing later
After you scream
That you miss me
That I never missed you
1.1k · Mar 2014
pluie d'été Mar 2014
You listen
You don't listen
Do you

The words you hate to say
I will nod
And smile
And you will
Never notice
Tainting them

Your words
Stopped making sense
Weeks ago
And I'm sick
Of your rhyming
aa bb aa
a b a b a

Leave me
It's easier
To believe in a dishonesty
When you hear it
Over and over
1.1k · Apr 2014
pluie d'été Apr 2014
The petals fell
And turned pink
Against the white
As if they were ashamed
Of blending in
With something stationary
1.1k · Apr 2014
pluie d'été Apr 2014
I usually write
To breathe
But I can’t

Do I need a muse
A man
Who makes me
With heady phrases
And kisses
Against my wrist
Or a brilliant
That sweeps against me
Like a monsoon
Or a flower
Whose petals
Are breaking
And blowing in the wind
Or a sadness
Like winter

I miss you
pluie d'été Oct 2015
What do you write to the saddest girl in the world?
Do you write about the beauty in the moon
The way its reflection
Stains the waves white?

Do you write about the way the rain
Falls on the surface
Of the water
And how it looks from underneath
Dancing with the oxygen
You exhale

Do you write about the wind
Non- existant leaves?

Do you tell her
About your cheeks stinging
When the sky is grey
And how it feels to have drizzle
Falling across your closed eyes?

Do you tell her about the little boys
Who pick flowers
Just to see her smile
Or the girls who spend minutes
Writing her name?

What do you tell the saddest girl in the world?

Do you tell her
That everything is infinite
Or that it is necessary
For all things great
To end?

Do you tell her
About the flowers
You see
And the smiles
You can no longer count

Or do you tell her about the flowers
That lose their petals when she
Forgets their beauty
And the people who fade away
When all she sees
Is grey

Do you tell her
When you miss her smile
Or do you kiss the tears
Off her cheeks
And dance with her
Across the bed
With rumpled sheets
And lines
And lines
Of sunlight

Do you tell her
That you love her
Without her sadness
(God, I hope you do)
But with it too

Or will you
Never tell her
The way she never tells you
And will you keep
The receipt
That she had written
About never telling the person you love
The most

How much you love them.
998 · May 2014
pluie d'été May 2014
there's a girl
who holds
the universe
in her eyes
(they aren't tired

she loves the rain
and the sound
of voices
and his eyes
and his eyes
and his eyes
and the feeling
she got
after her second

she dresses
in white
her cheeks
with innocence
held high
(her tears
fall like rivers
she cries)

drowns in words
of a thousand forests
a billion minds
and minutes
and falling
through her lap
and scrawls
empty words
(the ones
she hears)
between gaps
in the pages

an entirety
and gives them names
of all the famous writers
(she sometimes
reading them)
and caresses them
with her lips
and the words
that slip through
(they really
more beautiful
in the sunlight)

won't say the words
that need not
be said
tainting feelings
and moments
with a means of escape
(and she will hold her palm
over her ears
just to save herself
from hearing them
fall like feathers
from your lips)

she will
fall in love
with strangers
until she knows
(and then she will wonder
if her imagination
was actually real)

she will
until the moths
against a lit screen
and the butterflies
fall apart
a bare neck
like stars
falling into the sea

she loves
the sky
and the sea
and can't decide
on separate
and weighs her down
until she flies
into the drizzle
on the corners
a gentle breeze)
927 · Apr 2016
pluie d'été Apr 2016
What I am about to say
Will save you
From a great sadness

1. Don't ever caress your broken heart in your hands
The blood will stain your finger tips scarlet
And be imprinted on the next person you hold.

2. Don't succumb
To the comforting grey side
Of Sadness
I know its warm. I know its safe.
But its only all those things
Because darling,
It will never leave.

3. Don't keep things hidden.
Who are you?
How can you even think of not being the main character of your story?

4. Don't read books about girls being left behind, and about boys dying
Or about people who are too afraid
Or too courageous
Or whose main characters are liars
Who come alive when you look into
Their eyes.

5. Don't let your heart pull away from him
Because you feel like
"You love him too much"
He won't understand why
You are holding his heart
And your own.

6. Don't start writing when you are sad.
The ink won't be able to run from your fingers when you are happy
And you will be left without the words you have
Become addicted to-

You will hold your heart in your hands
And you will pick at its stitches to feel
And your heart will bleed
And it will stain your fingertips red.

You will reach out to him,
And your will leave scarlet smears across his cheek
And his chest
And his wrist
And no matter how many times
You kiss
The stain will stay

And you will
Wrap yourself in the soft grey
And the Sadness will swear
To always stay
And you will feel loved
Because it will never leave.

And you will start to hide it-
The warm grey
The phone call
An opinion
The fight you had
The tears and words
That want to come out

And you will turn to books
Not to escape
But to learn
About other
I's and hers and hims
And their words will come out
Black and white
The next time
He whispers
'I love you' in your ear.

And then you will start to pull away
You love him too much
And that means he is going to leave
And he will look at you and see
That you have his heart
And your heart
But it will be too late for him to
Have kept yours
And it will be too late for you to keep his.

And suddenly
It will be Saturday night
And he will still be yours
But it will feel like he's
And you will pull the thread

Of soft grey.
921 · Jul 2014
pluie d'été Jul 2014
we all make the main characters
in the stories we write
have blue eyes
if ours are green
brown eyes
if ours are blue
and hazel
if they're grey

just so that
no one can tell

whose secrets
line the pages
in our favourite font
915 · Mar 2014
four letter word
pluie d'été Mar 2014
what do i believe in
is it you
the feeling of your absence

falling away
clouded by a thousand lies
by a dozen reasons

break my heart
i have ceased
to believe
in the four letter word
that comes rushing out your lips
895 · Feb 2016
pluie d'été Feb 2016
and it was universal
the way we fell in love with feelings
and dark eyes


it was never supposed to be easy
but sometimes
when you smile against my lips
or trace my ribs
and i feel
your laugh
against the palm of my hand

it's the easiest thing
in the world
867 · Jun 2014
your lips
pluie d'été Jun 2014
your lips
used to write poetry
against my skin

but now
i can't feel your breath
on the curve of my neck
and i have nothing
to read
849 · Apr 2014
pluie d'été Apr 2014
she had eyes that could drown a man
eyes beautiful
and sad
burnt from staring at the stars
for too long

they couldn't look away
the ones that followed her
into the deepest depths
of all the shallow seas

she had lips that were red
and full
leaving them mesmerized
by the begging
that they presumed
weighed down her softly
spoken words

they would open the dictionary
of their mother-tongue
to see what she had to say
and it made her sad
and beautiful
at the same time
834 · Jul 2014
pluie d'été Jul 2014
you forgot the ***
of daffodils
that i gave you
in autumn

and by winter
their soul
had gone
next year

their flowers
hung yellow
like tissue paper
and when the breeze
stirred them
they were dragged
by wilted stems

and drew lines
in the dust
822 · Sep 2015
pluie d'été Sep 2015
we were answers once
but then we left
and became questions
801 · Jul 2014
pluie d'été Jul 2014
i keep getting lost
on the trail
that winds
through the forest

green leaves

rough trunks
in neat rows


like a stuck record

i keep
without going around
798 · Dec 2015
Insomnia is a Dream
pluie d'été Dec 2015
is only a dream

Time moves
So slowly

The mouse no longer
Runs up the clock
The mouse no longer leaps

Gazing across an expanse of white
(it's not the ceiling, my darling
it's the antarctic
upside down)

Breathing in time
with the wind

Why are your eyes hurting
If they are closed?
789 · Feb 2014
Silent Like a Thunderstorm
pluie d'été Feb 2014
Your words don't stop running
Across the infinite sky

They fill me with doubt
And certainty
Echoing your smile

Your eyes
Are a reflection of the stars
Looking away when the sky
Is empty of the moon

Won't you have me
At your feet
Hypnotized by your voice
And your silence

I hear your heart beat
When I'm awake at night
And you are still asleep

Like a thunderstorm
785 · May 2014
pluie d'été May 2014
there were cracks
of lightening
that fell from the sky
like chains
of stars
held together
by electricity

searing the earth
rain beating across
pale skin
dark skin
no skin
the minds
under colour
one another

we have choice
and there is still
no freedom
from the oppression
we have been forced
to create
783 · Apr 2014
Please Let Me Slip Away
pluie d'été Apr 2014
Let me slip away
Without a fuss

Don't keep asking me
What 'fine' means
Don't ask me to stay
Or come

Let me slip away
Without a fuss

Let it be okay
When I say
'I want to be on my own
Don't make
Decisions for me
I'm not too sad
Too be alone

Let me slip away
Without a fuss

I don't want to tell you
What I mean by being
I don't want to have to lie
And tell  you that nothing is wrong

Let me slip away
Without a fuss

You need to fight for the
Right girl to stay
But it's not me

Let me
Slip away
783 · Apr 2014
pluie d'été Apr 2014
how can something
as delicate as lace
be so rough
in his hands?
777 · Sep 2014
pluie d'été Sep 2014
my favourite days
the 3rd
and 27th
of every month

and every tuesday
because i love the sound
your lips make
when you say

those words
against my neck
767 · Apr 2014
pluie d'été Apr 2014
disappointed eyes
hand pushing a jaw

it's not something i want to see
and i never asked you
to love me

wear a blindfold
so i can't see
watching me
echoing your unwavering

anger comes later
i know
i would read the lines
of your scowl
if i was brave enough
to see what they wrote

your gaze
will move away
at any moment
after you tell me
everything you hate
and i will be okay
and you will stop missing me
740 · Jul 2014
pluie d'été Jul 2014
if i could choose to be guilty
of one thing
it would be
that i will love you

but i'm innocent
and so sorry

unless forever
ended now
Next page