It ain't a "crash pad".
It ain't an office.
I just want my Home
To feel like Home
Diána Bósa Jun 2017
Like splitting the atom I
split myself until nothing
remains but the idea
of me in your head.
emma l Dec 2016
my rationality is a house drenched in gasoline --
my emotions are a handful of stricken matches --
i hold them delicately between my fingers,
try to wave out the flames,
blow them out one by one --
but the embers catch on the curtains.
the house goes up in flames;
it burns to the ground;
the ash scars the earth and i can't breathe again --

and why stop there?
why burn down a single house when i'd devour a whole village if you asked?
my emotions can be dynamite; they're a nuclear blast;
set me off and watch the world turn to dust
i'm doing it for you
my flames are engulfing the planet
for you
they're my reactions to the small things;
they're the clench of my jaw when you send short texts,
they're the shaking of my fingers when your shoulders don't curve around mine
the conclusion of my analysis on your body decides whether or not the world will go to sleep in bursts of red and orange

my spine is in a pool at my feet;
my frame has melted and my heart is on the loose
smoke is slithering down my throat
i'm sorry i am the way i am --
i'm sorry i'm clumsy with fire;
i'm sorry this house was built with popsicle sticks;
i'm sorry that it's so easy to watch me burn
this doesn't make sense
Echoes Of A Mind Jan 2016
I thought we were friends
but you've turned cold
it's like your heart
is made out of stone
Is it because parts of our lives
are going in different directions
that your cutting of ties
since you can't use them anymore?

Is this how we have become?
Standing on each side of a cliff
You with your back turned
while i'm still reaching
a hand out your way
hoping that you'll take it
or at least let me know
that you're okay
and making new friends
since I can't make you stay.

This fast change of heart
doesn't make sense
It seems more like
we never really were friends
Just a Random poem
guro May 2014
something along the lines of
  you'll leave me,
  won't you?
  is what i say to you

  which is
  given the circumstances for which
  this idea seems so completely
  appealing to me

(you'll leave me,
won't you?
you'll leave me,
blah blah blah,
if you leave me
i'll kill myself,
blah blah blah

is it all the same
to you? do you think i
say this shit
for fun?)

how fucking
this idea that's so
to you;
do you so
constantly have your
up your ass or is it just me?
oh, wait, no

  i don't know
  what you want me to say

  do you want me
  to agree with you?
  you, of all people?

— The End —