I feel one hundred and two
decaying from the inside out
a skeleton of mistakes
and regrets of things I should have done
broken teeth scattered across my bathroom floor
and empty pill bottles lining my shelves
I feel older than I should
already preparing for death
it looks me in the eyes
and tells me everything is all right
so I will go quietly with it
into the night,
I feel my bones shifting as I sit
waiting for another day to pass
until it doesn’t anymore
and I am somewhere that isn’t here
not living but free
escaping from what I tried to be
but I never was,
fingernails gnawed to the bone
and bones jutting out from the crevices
of my own mind
I am too young to feel this old
ready to give up
who I am
to anything that promises relief
irreconcilable futures rest in the horizon
and I am here bargaining away
what time I have left.
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
We're awakened to our insatiable longing for heaven
through both beauty and the painful marring of it.
For beauty hints to us of that for which we are truly made,
and its marring shouts that we are truly not meant to find it here.

We can be eternally grateful for beauty lost when we realize
that it is indeed one of the great secret-tellers of the universe.
Still we fear it so and often fear even to hope for the beauty itself,
though they are a necessary cycle that fuels us on and drives us home.

We cannot deny or diminish our intense longing for beauty--
to see it and have it and be it, and we cannot pretend that its
dreadful loss does not press down upon us like a crushing weight.
We must let it crush us until our ache for heaven is excruciating.
Brother slaying brother,
Families disintegrating,
Loss of unity,
Unity of life,
Family bonds in modern times,
Mean less to people,
For some odd reason.
If I had the nerve to tell you everything,
I wouldn't know where to start.
I could tell you that you're handsome,
You always are.
I could tell you that I love you,
But you already know that.
Maybe even the fact that you're my everything,
But you wouldn't believe me.

If I had the nerve to tell you everything,
I wouldn't know what to say.
How would I tell you how alone I've felt since you left,
Or how much I hate myself for falling short.
But most of all,
I'm afraid to tell you that I'm terrified we won't work.
I'm terrified to lose you.
I'm terrified that if we endure this distance and I'm denied again,
You'll move on.
You'll find someone better suited for you than I.
You'll stop loving me.

So, thats what I'd tell you:
I'd tell you that you're handsome.
I'd tell you that I love you.
I'd tell you that you're my everything.

If I had the nerve to tell you everything,
I wouldn't.
Because I don't.
A figure walked into my room late one night. It was Death. Without any words, I knew it was my time. Tears rolled down my face, but I didn't make a sound. I didn't want the people outside to see what was about to happen. Death came to my bedside, laid down its scythe, and pulled down its hood. To my surprise, Death looked like an old friend and a smile spread across my face. We stayed there for a minute or two without words lingering in the air. I knew this time wasn't given to me to prepare or come to terms with what came next, but so I could enjoy my last moments and be at peace with myself. Death pulled up its hood, grabbed its scythe with one hand, and extended the other to me. In that moment, I grew scared of what would happen to the people I left behind, but one look at Death and I was calm once more. I looked around the room at the white walls and grabbed the hand of Death. As we left, I heard a voice I no longer recognize speaking words I no longer understood. What is a code blue?
Death isn't always scary.
Kat 14h
How could your heart ever long

for anything but a love beyond the archetype?

love me, and you will forget the opposition

between want and need.

razor cutting flesh

while you go on searching for words to make it less mythical,

a ritualistic dance between aversion and marvel,

with love left to bleed out like a helpless deer.

there is music, songs of

sin and sacrifice

the great city burned to ashes,

by flames of pleasure that wreck deliberately.

We sit in the ruins

of what once used to be a ground of worship,

merely human,

with nowhere to come home.
nothing to write home about
Aa Harvey 17h
The Best Friend Ever


The way I felt for you transcended sex.
That is something you will always be able to get.
But to me that would not have been enough.
It is your soul I am in love with, not just your body.
You can have sex with anyone;
It was babies I wanted you to have with me.


Your kid will be the coolest of them all.
Your body is the most beautiful.
Your face is a masterpiece,
I could happily get lost inside.
Your thoughts are my nourishment.
I take them all inside me and give back commitment.


I pledge my soul, to my true beloved.
There is and has only eva been one love of my life.
How do I know?  Because I didn’t know then.
Only one girl can make me cry,
Simply at the thought of never seeing her again.


I love you.
I am your friend to the peaceful end.
Until death rips me apart,
Or until you break my heart again.
But if that is your intention,
Then I shall die now alone.


Even if Her love for me is gone,
My love for her shall never end.
Friends until death.
I love you my best friend.



(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Aa Harvey 17h
Take Care


So delicate a flower has never been touched,
By such worn golden fingers, so callous and rough.


Such care must be taken, when speaking of love,
In case your inner thoughts are misinterpreted,
With the slip of a tongue.


Then what would become of loves chosen lovers?
A different path they would have to choose,
As they go in search of another.


Missed opportunities, come and go,
The whispered words that are never heard,
Only speak of sorrow.


Unless such care, did the lady take,
To listen to this poor boys, tears of pain.


(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Callum 21h
If the basin were bigger, I'd climb in. Steel wool would be my tool of choice: an effort to cleanse my bounding to previous keepers and remnants of time. Choices and paths to be reverted to a state not yet touched, not yet muddled and tampered with: clean. Regret is often confused with guilt, very often apart from now, in this moment. Love is not an emotion I try to leash and tame, and that is often why I find myslef damaged and alone: I become dirty with everyone else's leftovers. I am made of other people's mistakes and I bare their influences on my sleeve. Maybe one day that'll wash away.
An aging world,
An aging race,
A pace moving slowly,
Yet almost at light speed.
Time a cruel master,
That sends its agents of aging,
out to destroy man.
Next page