Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Julie 7h
Look
look close enough
into the eyes
of people

They speak
stories
memories
and worries

Behind them
they hide seas
full of tears

Look into the eyes of someone
and you will know them -
just then
For many years,
I didn't own a
television.
I didn't want one.
The news gave me
anxiety, and most of
the movies were
horrible.
Bad actors,
terrible acting
and predictable plots.

I wasn't buying any
of it.

My Dad loved
watching movies.
He often used the word,
contrived
when summarizing them.

I remember watching
The Grapes of Wrath
with him.
After the movie, Dad talked
about leaving in his will,
a list of his ten favorite
movies for his seven kids
to watch sometime.
He wanted us to know
him better.

He forgot about it and died
a few years later.
I always thought Dad had
too much faith in mankind.
But, after watching The Grapes
of Wrath again, maybe he
didn't.
I hope we all live until
we die.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rOGBCY2FM_c
Here is a link to my YouTube channel, where I read from my latest book, Sleep Always Calls. It is available on Amazon.

www.thomaswcase.com
Maybe I should've stopped him more.
Like a moth, drawn to the flame of my silence.
no matter how warm it feels,
too much light is bound to burn.
Even if he is happy now,
he might wake up
with ash in his mouth.
Sometimes,
I am afraid of your unconditional kindness--
like rain falling on a paper house.
Beautiful,
but destined to collapse.
Even if it's a fleeting connection,
I am afraid that one day...
you might regret me.
I remember meeting you outside the party
our friends were wasted in love
looking for a savior with their bodies
You were sitting, singing a melody I recognised
I remember leaving, crying while drinking your last cup
you were smoking while our song was playing
but we didn't even know each other
The lights paralysed my thoughts
and I was drowning in words that refused to leave my mouth
You were laughing in the car with a girl I called pretty
some hours ago, in front of you
before the incident
I remember writing under the constellations,
in a corner where the lenses couldn't approach me
and the purple and blue flashes only touched pieces of the lunar light.
I remember writing a love song about someone I never met and never will
and then you had the guts to ask me for a cigarette
but I gave you a lighter I always carry around
You saw my tears falling down inside your drink
so you decided to drink my soul instead
The girl I called pretty got hypnotised
by the laughs and the screams inside
and suddenly it was just us
and our heartbeats
I remember meeting you outside the party
but you told me you couldn't see your reflection anymore through my eyes
you told me I was just a girl that stole your sanityand filled it with smoke
and then our heartbeats touched
and the incident happened
and I wasted parts of myself in the kiss we exchanged.
I smiled
I smiled and your lips formed a deeply regretful smirk.
I remember meeting you outside my party
wasted on love or greed or foolishness
or was I just high on hope and delusion?
I chose the wrong substances
and now I'm stuck with your regrets
and your cigarette infused breath you let me taste
I ran to change the song to something everyone likes but me and you.
I danced with our memories
and you danced with your chosen loneliness.
I remember it was the best party
I've ever had
I remember admiring how much you were hurting
I remember lying to myself about feeling shame about it
and it was the last chance I had to remembering you
I vaguely have any memories from all the parties you haven't been since then
but I'm throwing one now
and I know you'll remember it
meet me outside the party.
I wanted to write something that represents the way gen z treat relationships and social situations like a party. I feel like party culture has become a very specific field and everyone has experienced some lifechanging event at a party in their lifetime.
dismember                        
the jerking flesh of my heart
nervous excrement
the manner your head rattles
when i lunge at you
this room stiffens with ****
                    running our corpses thru the flame
the gummy dark muffle day-to-night            
       pinball wisdom of creatures                    
                                   ­   below the floor
cactus salad
        me you and our malady
[notes : inspired by Remember  by Joyce Mansour]
dismember
us meeting in the long dark bar
made of old wooden doors ******* closed
we nerved about conversation and drank
the gruff dense social den drew in
                grew around us                                      
pushing our minds about like
     the ember remains
                                  of a sotted campfire
ploying mother lens
we shuffled into the other
                      cleaved a little and uncleaved
then  tuning out the winters night
we did together leave
dismember                          
the jamming fight of my breath
your reciting
the wit that exudes you
i hack mad laughs                      
the room becomes rude hot
              and we burst our fleshes
the seasons collect in some deafening syrup
but still the walls are music with vermin
mushroom tea       you and me
[notes : inspired by Remember  by Joyce Mansour]
Chloe 3d
My body is not my own
Pass it along to anyone
And my heart doesn’t live inside
I have nowhere to hide it
And the places I’ve called home
They are not my home
I think I used to feel differently
but now I don’t know

You always had a place to go
You always had someone to hold
I had to listen to you fight at night
And now I’m alone

I know you never loved me
Sometimes I still want you to touch me
Down in the trenches
You always knew what to provoke
so I’d never come to my senses

And it’s mostly all my fault
It would be easier to say I blame you
I was too young
I didn’t know
I was hurt
It wasn’t my decision
but it was mine to make
Still,
I can’t take it back
I cannot escape
It has nothing to do with you
anymore, anyways

It all crescendos to inaction
And floods my interactions
It all feels too big
It’s in a cloud
above my head
And I can’t reach it
The intangible
weight of grief
I am a miserable
ghost of me
In progress
flimsy pieces of plastic
with colors and borders
very delicate even a small touch can leave a longing mark
my polaroid is lost to time
I haven't seen it in a while.

may you preserve yours with the time u have,
flimsy delicate and mine
metaphors are stupid
You used to watch me with your deep brown eyes sparkling.
Next page