Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
my eyes are filled with wonders,
my heart is filled with spirit
like coffee for the soul
gelato for the brain,
travel makes me sing,
zambia, mallorca and spain.

mother and my friend,
embracing, reuniting
tightening the over stretched
ropes that bind
a mother and
her daughter

under a tourist's sun,
upon white sand beaches
luxury at my beck and call,

i will recover from this
third-world hell-hole

to be conflicted, engages,
happy and bitter-sweetend,

all of this and more, i
am acutely eager to live through.

come on, june 1. you can run to me faster than this.
Daylight 4U2C May 2014
I gave away my branches,
I gave away my leaves,
you chopped me up for housing,
then ran off,
leaving me.

I gave away my dirt,
and gave away my air,
I gave away the water,
you said you'd none to spare.

I gave away my patterns,
I gave away my age,
I gave away all I had,
and you'd just take and take.

And now that I have nothing,
I sit alone, and cry
I think how I am now a stump,
and you didn't even say goodbye.
I don't know why,
I give stuff to you.
I tell the others,
it's just what I do.
But I'm ready to jump,
right over the ledge.
You keep laughing,
and pushing me off the edge.
Then you come back around,
asking for solace.
I'd have hit the ground by now,
but i won't get stuck in the past.
So whether or not hurting me was your goal,
Take that you ***!
Being a bully isn't cool.






:3
Elixa Greene May 2014
You hear glass breaking, and think nothing of it.
You hear a scream, a shout, and ignore it.
Build a brick wall around myself, but you don’t question it.
No longer smile or laugh, but do you ask why?
All the signs are there, but you never notice.

I want to be like a butterfly.
You won’t break my wings, just because you try.
I want to be like a butterfly.
Emerge from my cocoon, ready to fly.
I want to be like a butterfly.
Laugh until I’m ready to cry.
There will never be enough sky,
to fill me up and take me down.
I’ll always be ready, to be a butterfly.
Jenna May 2014
Telephones.
Earphones.
Earplugs.

To drown out
Baby cries.
Engines exhaling.
Anxiety.

"Don't be afraid"
"You've done this before"
"He knows what he's doing"


The tired.
The disagreeable.
The impossibly experienced.

Tickets.
Bags.
Smile-free faces.


I'm ready.
You're ready.
Let's go already.
R Saba Apr 2014
whiskey drips down into the skyline
and my sober eyes close, refusing to resist
another heavy night
and i wake up drunk on too much sleep
again

this is how it’s been lately, maybe
i’m making up for those three weeks of sleep deprivation
but i think there might be something else keeping me
tied to the bed so late every morning
finally standing up, still tired
and the shadows never disappeared
from beneath my eyes

at any rate, sleep is not doing its work
bringing me deeper down into the sheets
as the morning runs its course
and still i don’t feel ready to face the world

the more i sleep, the less alive i feel
now tell me
is this how it’s supposed to be?
yeah it's weird and I don't like it
R Saba Mar 2014
8:25 am
“all i wanted was a little love”
says the voice in my head
and the black cord that connects my mind
to somebody else’s words
tugs at my heartstrings too

bright copper sunshine on fast-moving waves
dull glitter of ice over snow
spindly shadows of trees bent this way and that
striping grey concrete and faded yellow lines
slow clouds covering the last of the night
as it sinks into the roots of the day

“keep your hands to yourself”
says the voice in my head
it’s been one song
since i last heard those words
and i keep my hands to myself
and my mind outside
and my thoughts on the objects and values and colour
and not on the things i can’t see

i see a spreading warmth beyond the window
i feel the same thing in my bones
and i am unable to move now, unable
to turn my eyes away

outside, the cars pass by
and the water keeps flowing
and the sun keeps glowing
and it all looks the same, yet the longer i look
the more it changes

each day i look the same, and yet
i know i have changed
like a river slowly warming after winter
like the sun dissolving clouds around it, not with anger
but with something else
like the concrete of the road supporting those who cross it

this morning, sitting by the window
i had the urge to reach my hand out
and i don’t know why, or what for
but it seemed like the right thing to do

but i kept my hands to myself
i know
i am not ready yet
spring's gotta come at some point... i've gotta tell you at some point
R Saba Jan 2014
someone took a needle
threaded it, tied a knot
double for luck
and then sewed me down to this feeling
sticky strands that prevent me from walking away
and i was forced to stay, forced to hold on
to the side of the rollercoaster car
no choice but to let it all play out
up and down, trying to ignore
the rising, sinking, rising again
in my stomach
up to my heart, up through my mind, and down again
but today i let go

just to brush the hair out of my face
to see you better
just for a split second, i let go

and the feeling dropped down to my toes
leaving me hanging on again for dear life
no, i’m not ready
for a “look, ma, no hands!” kinda deal
i’m still holding on, knuckles white
and shivering
waiting for the ride to end
and half-wishing it would just keep going
fight or flight, or just give in
let the scene play out
and my mind tells me, get out while you still can
but the rest of me is soothing
saying, stop looking away
at the apex of the hills, keep that eye contact
all through the drop, down to the bottom
forget the fear, it’s just part of the beauty
**** common sense, **** logic
harsh words trying to slam some sense into me
i guess it’s just the fact that i can’t analyze
a rollercoaster ride
when i’m still on it
but i don’t want it to end just yet
i hate carnival rides

— The End —