Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
This season we're going all out
And I mean ballistic
We ain't pulling no punches
Taking out all the stops
Were gonna go mad
Talk,talk ,talk
Go, go go!
I'm talking about road trips to nowhere
Bar hoping like alcoholic amphibians
Bus rides to The Big City
Cliff jumping
Hold our breaths as the fireworks launch themselves into the summer evening sky and explode
As we dance and sing of wonderful things
Debouched ***
Experimenting with sense derangement
Study the spiritual teaching from the far east
Make the suburbans myths that will never fade
Roller coaster calamities
Visit strip clubs under the unfinished highway
Lay back on a crowded beach and float in the ocean
Hike in the wilderness up a torrent mountain
And when we reach the top we'll howl at the moon in the starry midnight air
We will write compelling manifestos of freedom
And we will not sleep
We will grow stronger, wiser
And when fall comes we will be new
We'll be alive
We will have known what it means to live
Live
Live
Twelve days.
That's how long it will be
Until the last thirteen years of my life
Mean almost nothing
Twelve days.
Twelve.
Twelve days.
That's how long it will be
Until the relationships I spent
So much time building
Fade away
Twelve.
Twelve days.
That's how much time I have left
Until I'm forced into a world where
No one knows my name, my face, or
What I've done
The image of myself
That I spent my time building
An unknown.
The work
Wasted
My self identity
Purged
Without my permission
Forced to rebuild myself
From the ground up
Who will I be?
Who will I be?
Who will I be?
College. I'm kinda freaking out.
Parker Vance May 2014
Someone at the end of this hallway
Is wearing plaid shorts
And they look like the ones you always wear
For a minute I think
Oh god, it's him.
And I'm not sure if I'm happy or terrified
Nervous or excited
But it was you in that moment and that's all that mattered.
Martin Narrod May 2014
Soy
You were totally something else. Like a calm respite overcoming an instance of excitement. Magic and other prime words that can dictate the inarticulate adjectives that was this afternoon. Happiness and pleasure. A coexistence. To coexist. Soy.
Ariana Sweeney Apr 2014
What’s the point of being perpetually safe,
Wrapped up in a bubble of faux perfection?
Where is your sense of adventure?
Your insatiable desire to search for what to love;
Be it people, places, things,
Or intangible pieces of yourself you’ve yet to meet.
Where is your spontaneity,
Your yearning to flee and face every lost corner of yourself?
Security?
Scoff at it.
That isn’t what you want.
You want dreams.
You want a sharp intake of breath,
The quickening of heart,
Sweat.
You want wonder and lust and to get lost
And to be someone who sees themselves
And smiles.
You want desperation
And fear
And heartbreak
Because those are the only things giving you the chance to grow.
You want self-discovery and enlightenment
And to readily await the next day in excitement
Rather than just trying to “get it over with”.
You want a reason to live, and you can’t buy that.
You can’t buy it.
You search and scrounge,
Beg and bleed
Until you’re reduced to ashes,
Until the world becomes saturated with all you’ve left behind.
You earn it.
You live it.
You love it.
You are it.
You’re passion,
Pleasure,
Purpose
Priceless
All in one.
You’re finally you.
CV Apr 2014
A new start,
something fresh.
Friends look at you
with wide eyes
erasing all the previous
times you had met
with this new time,
all from something simple.
Something fresh.
A haircut.
Although going from
long flowing wavy
strawberry blond hair
to dark pixie short
brunette colored hair
is quite the difference...
but it's something fresh.
Something new.
Something great.
Exhilarating.
Exciting.
Wonderful.
I recently got a dramatic haircut and I absolutely love it. Thought I'd share my thoughts about it here.
Meg B Apr 2014
Is anything simple,
or is everything?

"Run away with me;
save me.
"

"You don't have to be alone."

"I want us to stand in the sun together."

Do we just keep rollin?
Where are we goin?

The bright sun shines above;
that baby blue sky I love.

The tires roll,
off the ground we take,
fate
awaits;
Let's get lost in this place.

Subtlety, how you govern
my actions
for I fear dissatisfaction,
not certain the reaction

Do I surrender to the unknown,
to that yet I do not know?
The more I grow,
further I go,
fearful I may be,
is that, though, serenity?

Dive into a phobia,
pool splashes hopelessly,
waves, water, blue,
it has opened me.

Well, not open,
but perhaps ajar?
Is the end, is it far?
Or is it near?

My dear, oh how it could be
with me, oh how you could see,
Hands laced loosely
like a kid with kicks too cool,
loose they hang,
easy stride slow, low
against the breeze
until the darkness does squeeze
the space between us,
and embrace me you do.

Heart, head; aboard a jet.
This is all a dream,
or is it?

Is anything simple,
or is everything?
Meg B Apr 2014
warm, strong hands;
the delicacy of his fingers
softly racing
d
o
w
n
the small of my back
losing my breath
heart beating;
lump in my chest.

a world unknown,
I have yet to feel for
someone
new,
my world spinning endlessly
as we lay
on the azure blue of his sofa couch;

feels so soft,
soft as the heaven and the clouds
as they wrap
             their arms
                          around the sun
and it slips into Darkness....

Darkness.
days of it.
nights of it.
yet the most remote light found
in the darkest of places

a cold lonely night,
riots; tragic news; insecurity...
he turns them into
radiance,
to the white of a sandy beach;
his soft skin, his beautiful gaze...
I get lost in that blue-green ocean
that bores into me
with all of their innocence.

I let him take me away
away from it all;
in that moment...
and as my skin brushes melodiously
against his enchantment
I know somehow that everything
has
changed,
and it is so far
from
                                                              undisclosed.

if only I could keep the sunshiny Darkness;
the togetherness of our loneliness;
the stillness of our fast-moving passions...
locked away secretly,
                                        a secret between (your lips and mine.)
Matthew Apr 2014
Times like these turn your mouth into a gullet
your frown into a scowl
your yawn into a howl

Times like these make drunks alcoholics
you scamper then you walk
you scream then you talk

These are glorious times, my dear
They turn our boredom
into your fear

— The End —