Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Talk to me about flowers and fires.
The orchids
of our collected youths
are bleeding into rose water
and being smashed into books.
For a little look
like a picture stretched under a slide
hiding, elfin to run back away from us.

In the hearth of us we wonder
what the charcoal will draw next.
Sticks on the banks of the styx
In it’s flicking midst
I can almost see
the little beat-less heart
in the center of the cherry.
It’s like it’s still held still in pursed lips.

In a falling little flame
accidently spilling it.

Out in Saturday mornings.
Out of school
so sliding in our nose rings.
Skiving by lying
with fist rubbed eyeballs.
The swell,
Then the classic sweetness
of the re-sleep.

Marker pen graffiti.
Feeling like elitists
because we don’t like elitists.
Defeatist is in right now, love's yet a fable.
(Planets are *****) on physics tables,
and writings on my hands,
but **** it man,
I won’t remember them, anyway.

Blurry nameless kisses
tasting like French lager,
or is that me?
Bellybutton shots.
Love at a coin toss
or against a brick wall was at it's best.
But there’s room for two
in this tent full of burn-holes.

Iron maiden.
never paid but
in microphone coldness
on the lips.
Lifted on the fix.
Giving the week in a night
and taking the night for a week,
with velocity.

Headbanger’s neck on
the pen-bottle ****, being used,
being used up.
Swimming against the river.
Golden Virginia,
Sobranies in the bus shelter.
And as the day's screen goes over
we still kept the bonfire
running in the rain.

That's what talks to me.
I'm laying back,
but moving forwards,
involuntarily.
What is the right way to capture our youth?
Evan Williams Jan 2016
Under rocks,
Behind trees,
In the bushes,
On the stream bed
No where to be seen
No where to be found
       And i’m still looking

In the closet,
Behind the sofa,
Under the bed,
In the trash can
No where to be seen
No where to be found
        And i’m still looking

Outside,
Inside,
Up,
Down,
No where to be seen
No where to be found
         And i’m still looking

Then…
Finally…
I think to look…
Inside of me…
To find the thing I've been looking for…
I have to accept…
That I am me…
And only me…
And no one else.
Styles Dec 2015
I want to take, tiny sips,
of your cherry red lips.
my favorite drink,
on my special list of sweet things,
with a devilish twist.
it taste so sweet it,
makes our lips stick,
our tongues tied like licorice
love being so selfish
my tongue her tourist
******* on her lips
her eyes rolling back
like her hips.
she's feeling me,
I'm feeling this.
Crucifix Dec 2015
We fell like fire, a streaking ball of thunder, and in our slumber we found each other. Twin wicks on a single candlestick burning bright, fighting back the night. How long we will last before we burn our last? How long will we echo through the ground with every loving lasting sound?
A beat, a pound, heartbeats lost and once more found.
Never give up on love.
LaurenGrey Nov 2015
To say that I was scared was fine
After all it was only a matter of time
Sooner or later I would have to leave home
To be on my own to ponder and roam

At first the thought filled me with dread
The idea of coming back to an unfamiliar bed
But I took the first step that led me away
Sometimes I look back still to this day

But here I stand years from then
These hands of mine that hold this pen
They are not the same I have to say
The years have changed me in many a way

I look back on all the mistakes I’ve made
The things I’ve lost and the debts I’ve paid
But would I change it if I had the chance?
Maybe I would looking at a glance

Then I think of all the things I’ve done
The days of work and nights of fun
Those I’ve met and those who’ve left
I think I’d feel quite bereft,
Knowing that it turned out any other way.
Jack Thompson Nov 2015
I tried...
But I don't know if there are the words.
In either language I know.
To describe just how special you are.
To me.

I'll keep looking...
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015
Martin Narrod Oct 2015
Alice is alive and breathing in the resin gilded air. Inside the dream canopy. Fresh ears crafting **** melodies, ripe and crimsony.

Sound will not be my weapon. Mathematics will not be my disclaimer. Open me into the politics of your bathroom monologue, until the numbness of this methodical dialtone unravels the second heart and your tongue wraps the minutes on the bridge of your heaving vowels.

Class undoes no misery. Desperate limited eyes grabbing for other desperate imitating eyes. Sand undoes the fingertips, soldering one insanity to the next.
Poppi Mae Oct 2015
I'm just a memory in your head,
Long gone, but missed in your bed.
My skin is aching for your touch,
Even association for you is too much.
Wasted nights thinking of your name,
Now my head bows in shame.
Never could I ever leave you alone,
Sitting here empty, my heart has no home.
Oh what a mistake I had made,
"Love me, love me" I prayed,
And if I had known of what frayed,
Then maybe you would have stayed.  People change and time goes on,
But a picture of friendship has been drawn.
All I wanted was your attention,
Your acknowledgement of me was an honourable mention.
Now late at night when you enter my head,
No tears for you will be shed.
So tell your self when you cry to sleep,
Love is not love when the other makes you weep.
getting over you.
Chalsey Wilder Oct 2015
I'm only a human being looking for some meaning
And I'm only empty to be filled.
Idk Tbh...
Poetic T Oct 2015
I am trapped in the wreckage of my life,
Mangled thoughts ensnare me,
I haemorrhage in depression.

I drove through life not caring of the turns,
But when one is not observant,
Losing focus was always going to happen.

I was entangled in the ruins of what had become
Crippled in reflection of what was,
I was the catalyst of what I had become.
Next page