Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kyle Kulseth Jun 2016
Bills are scheming with a lightweight check
               again.
Swear to God they must by
         best of friends.
And now I'm sitting solo on my couch
               again
with these 4 walls.
They've become parenthetic.

It's the same everywhere,
               I know.
Same for my friends.
'Cuz the loan checks that we're writing won't
          pay dividends.
We majored in Assumptions,
tossed our caps and
               then
we found new meanings
for what's copasetic.

Now it's easy...
too **** easy...
So easy...
It's too easy.

To wander these same neighborhoods
and stay in tiny, ****** apartments
when the loose ends of your 20s tangle
and you're tied to where you've always been.

And I'll never ask for
          FOR ANYONE'S HELP.
But I still can't take
          CARE OF MYSELF.
So I'll
          COOK MY DINNERS
     ON THESE BURNING BILLS
and laugh my way to the bank
so they can repossess my smile.

Days keep blurring through to nightlight gleams,
               I know
time is racing past but
      thoughts are slowed.
And I'll be sitting pretty on my couch
               alone
inside 4 walls
because habits are a home.

It's the same everywhere,
               I know.
Same for us all.
Late nights and lame jokes we're making
          push back walls.
We majored in Assumptions,
tossed our caps and
               all
we found were new ways
to be pathetic.

But it's easy...
just too easy...
So easy...
It's too easy.

To stay in soured relationships,
stay still in tiny, ****** apartments
when the low points of your paychecks dangle
while you're trying to climb as high as rent.

And we couldn't be in
          ANY WORSE HEALTH.
And we couldn't be less
          FAIR TO OURSELVES
but we'll keep on keeping
like it's copasetic

And we'll never ask for
          ANYONE'S HELP.
Though we still can't take
          CARE OF OURSELVES.
So we'll
          COOK PLATES OF CROW
          ON OUR BURNING BILLS
and laugh our way downtown
where we can reassess our smiles.
storm siren Jun 2016
Nope.
I'm sorry.
You don't know
This new me.

I'm made up of sunshine storms
And bravery.

With yellow petals
Of daffodils
Stuffed inside a skin
Stitched together with
Ivy vines
Out of inky parchment.

He knows this new me
Because I'm sure he'd see me
Properly
Through the storms
I have weathered,
My stitches
Only fraying
Ever the slightest,
While I scream in pain.

And his eyes shine with admiration
And for the longest time
I realized that I am not only good,
But worthy.

You do not know
This new me.

I am stitched of tarnished shields
And golden opportunity.

Who are you?
I'm afraid I do not know
This new you.

Made of lies, vapid narcissism,
And cruelty.

It does not fit
With the new me.

I keep my mouth shut,
As they praise your lies,
And my truths are demonized.

And it's beautiful,
Because they'll leave you behind soon,
Like you left me with nothing and no hope.

But my faith in the future
And my faith in my friends
Will keep me moving forward,
While you're lost at sea

Without the new me.
Kurt Kanawa Jun 2016
if i ever thought
i thought of you

if i ever dreamt
i dreamt of you

if i ever sang
i sang of you

if i ever prayed
i prayed of you

if i ever swam
i swam of you

if i ever breathed
i breathed of you

if i ever wondered
i wondered of you

if i ever awed
i awed of you

if i ever howled
i howled of you

if i ever waited
i waited of you

if i ever laughed
i laughed of you

if i ever cried
i cried of you

if i ever walked
i walked of you

if i ever spoke
i spoke of you

if i ever dreamt
i dreamt of you

if i ever thought
i thought of you
iii/x
Kurt Kanawa Jun 2016
when god made a sun
brighter than the sun
the sun was the brightest
(and the sun was you)

when god made a sea
deeper than the sea
the sea was the deepest
(and the sea was you)

when god made a sky
higher than the sky
the sky was the highest
(and the sky was you)

if god made you
greater than you
you would be no one
(and god would be you)
ii/x
Kurt Kanawa Jun 2016
i/x
when i loved you
i loved all of humanity

when you killed me,
you killed all of humanity
i/x
hfallahpour May 2016
What's my dictionary of life?
Giving meaning to every single moment,
valuing  God_given endowment,
being in the path I've chosen,
never let my heart be frozen,
not a word be unspoken?
Giving each moment the best definition
without repetition
and being a good example
for the prospective generation
...
featherfingers May 2016
I never liked beets; too soft, too red
too round, too bulbous,
too much like a bloodmoon.

I cannot live in these shaman
sleeves. They're heavy as rocks beneath
the waves, soaked to the bone
by a salty, sunless sea.  Too much
blue is bleeding into billowing wool, red as beet.

There's never an anglerfish
when you need a light, no beetbulb of flame
for that last rush of smoke before the black
undercurrent squeezes the air too thin.
Lexy Apr 2016
And
And you tell yourself you'll change.
And you don't.
And you push your hand through water,
turn upside down and watch the sun ripple.
And you stand in the shower-
No, you sit in the shower,
and you breath through the water,
and you imagine what it might be like to drown.
And it feels like air is hugging your lungs for the first time, curl upside down,
and pretend the water is rain.
You're walking home, because you have a home,
and it's raining.
And you didn't even think to grab an umbrella.
And you don't care.
When your hands are cold, always trust in a hot water faucet.
Flipping 36 times in a row, blowing air out my nose.
And I remember that.
Clouds are made of water,
so it makes sense to feel like you're floating on air.
Tristan Rethman Mar 2016
I need** to demand a commitment to be obliged
To improve or maybe advance, to better and correct
The pain and ache, the agony of the burn

I'm stalling to hamper and postpone and stop
My death and annihilation, more appropriately bereavement
With my last hope a whim or belief that my confidence's last strand

To cureand recover, with drug or elixir
The condition, my ailment and disease that ills the syndrome of my agony

And win to become the victor of accomplishing an achievement
The fight to battle the skirmish of assault and bombardment

Too bad it failed with defeat, disappointed with failure

It's still here by attending my presence to be beside me forevermore
Pluto Mar 2016
?
i'm not sure how-
how to break this cycle
the constant pounding in my head
the incessant whispers
the persistent hurt
the frustrating reiteration
each one more needless

fall after fall after f
                                   a
                                       l
                                          l
it's just annoying.
Next page