Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
you are not my type, but i don’t care.
our conversations are not interesting, yet i like talking to you.
you don’t have any talents that will make me feel interested.
the things that you consider hobbies are boring to me.
heck, i’m not even attracted to you, but i like you.
brandon marc Mar 2016
i know it sounds crazy how I could
drop something I loved
so fast.
it made me happy
at one point in my life,
but it soon turned around.
I cried, and compared.  
all it turned out to be was just fun
for a period of time.
Lukoje Dec 2015
I used to write poetry because
I liked the lull of words when
They fit together seamlessly.

I used to draw pictures because
The scenery was just beautiful
And I never wanted to forget.

I used to listen to music because
The hidden meanings in lyrics
Gave me cause to think.

Now I need to write poetry because
I must get all these words out of my
head before they drive me insane.

Now I need to draw pictures because
People tell me that I have to try to
Keep distracted for my own good.

Now I need to listen to music because
If silence falls, I know that I will start
To think too much about nothing.
Austin Heath Nov 2015
No love.
You didn't believe in expressing your feelings plainly,
till you were crying vulgarities into someone's chest.
A strange cliche became something to accept, ordinarily.

"How the trip never stops", MC Ride is screaming,
"On and on, it's beyond insane."
Drowning out your thoughts was something
you only heard in music, or something your ex said
back in high school,
until you fell asleep with headphones and sunglasses on
blaring Death Grips.
"Choose this life, you're on your own."

"I never asked to be a hero"
Hanging your Moon Knight collection on your walls;
Cried to words written on a page for the first time.
You need to be loved by everyone,
and want to be loved by no one.
Understood the pressure and wrote every day,
wrote to be not the best, but just to return from your
fall from grace, to former glory.
"I never asked to be a hero, but I beg you;
Make me a hero again."

"Sono Teido?" = "Is that all you got?"
Studying frame data, unable to sleep.
Thought you had a calling, but you gave up.
Realized a hobby is only as good as it keeps you
busy from all the ******* you could be thinking of.
Good ******* to keep out the bad.
Chun-Li leaves her opponent with wise advice;
"Tameraibe Make yo" = "Hesitate and you will lose."

All you have to do is shine and be bright,
you'll be the type they want to take home.
However, angels didn't want me when I was young,
and they still observe for seconds at a time.
You press your palms into your eyes;
They pick you up for only a moment.
Didn't believe you could be heart broken.
Then they dropped you.

Came back from the dead without prayers.
Found your armor didn't make you a knight,
it made you a villain of the highest order.
Spoke in curses and sang a hex,
to banish your love to hell forever.
"I was a God, Valera", Doctor Doom spoke,
"I found it beneath me."

Found it after the fact. Three too many voices in your head;
Prodigal Son, Nihilist Prophet, Feminist Instigator.
Few believe so hard in something they've tried to erase.
Tried to ****, to smother, to maim, and finally, to nurture.
To give up, to recover, to come back, and decide you still believe.

You couldn't make anything happen with no love.
Matthew Harlovic Nov 2014
Each and every* form of art
isolates me from reality.

© Matthew Harlovic
Lani Foronda Sep 2014
I want to surround myself with photographs at my feet.
I want to explore and have adventures with my camera in hand.
I want to get up early in the morning to see the sun rise and see drops of dew on the grass.
I want to walk around at night and see the city lights shine.
I want to count the stars as I lie down on a field of grass and play Us Against the World.
I want to write in a leather notebook all my thoughts.
I want to have a bonfire and watch all my memories burn in the flames.
I want to curl up on the couch and read as the sun warms my skin.
I want to sleep at 2 am and wake up to the birds chirping outside my window.
I want to remind myself of why I fell in love with photography and writing.
I want to go back to makes me me.
May 22, 2012
Sharde' Fultz Aug 2014
it comes and goes they say. Bringing life to awkard ways. Stimulating awkard minds on lonely days. wastes away in intrinsic minds,repressed.
hapless beautiful thoughts used as insipid grumblings in a harvest without seed.
It is a must.a need.a gift
times' vacation, times' digress.
Hannah f Jul 2014
I was really born with green eyes
They resemble emeralds
But it seems the biggest green eye I have
is the eye of jealousy
I see beautiful people doing beautiful things
Making art, making jewelry, getting photographed
All while getting paid to do what they love
Half of me wants to be happy for them
but the darker half gets glowing green eyes
My biggest dream is to do what I love while supporting myself and my loved ones
Yet people as young as my age are already doing it, and have been for all of their life
Makes my soul wary and weak and just want to sleep
I'm so jealous of all of you

— The End —