the art of smooth handwriting eludes me & i scribble silent letters distracted by boldly loud ones onto the lines of a page, emotions and confessions i will turn in for class, my heart out, & where the teacher will ultimately return it, confusion marked on the pages in red ink and my thoughts will be half understood half appreciated and half loved; characterized by nothing more than luck, who chose, blindfolded which thoughts deserved to be seen and which ones would be lost in translation, from my head to the paper existing clearly in my mind yet appearing as hieroglyphics- and i have yet to find my rosetta stone
i appreciate your words, even if i cannot make them out; emotion doesn’t need words, art can be felt
I tear the skin off of my lips And then I can taste the salty blood. My mother says to me, "Annie! Stop!" But I ignore her. And I chew away. She asks me, "Annie!! Why do you do that!? It freaks me out!!"
Maybe I think that my lips will disintegrate. That maybe I will just End up eating them away.
No. That's too strange.
Maybe I think that they need to be smoother, Just in case, And that any jagged bits of skin poking up needs to be ripped off Like a bandaid.
No. I'm too shy to kiss anyone.
Maybe I just love the sting Of exposed skin.
I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I've become desensitized to that sting.
The smell of you is on my sheets There’s ***** on the wall Three empty bottles near my feet I think I drank them all Awoke to find you here Though I truly can’t recall The night before unclear Did we **** or have a brawl? Please wake up and leave I’ll walk you down the hall Feel like I’m going to heave And you’ll probably never call.
i feel like im the ocean cheesy metaphor i know, but it's true people say im pretty they pass by many come and go but no one ever stays am i not good enough? why do i feel like a piece has been ripped from me like i'm just an empty shell of a person wandering around till someone needs me does anyone really need me?
the answer to the last line? no. no one does really need me.
Although an atheist with many question that abound bout the lineage of humanity, this bard formerly of Belmont hills nada seeketh to be crowned yet applauds those
who attest in deity where salvation doth re-dound peace of body, mind and spirit can be found and rest in peace when demise finds her/him under ground identified by a tombstone and a mound which...over time becomes less round.