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eF Aug 2017
I'd burn every bridge
To avoid driving down that
Road ever* *again.
A quiet recklessness,
undone seat belts and unlocked doors,
how midnight sits in your mind like
the hands of a clock are holding it there.

It's a different music now, a change
in how the dream tastes, the way
everything feels like sandpaper.
You swore you could see
from underneath the dark of your eyelids.
Go back to sleep, I said.

Someone asked me
what faith was. I said it was an act
of surrender. We have faith
in what owns us. You asked me
what faith was, but I couldn't
look you in the eye.

I remember you liked
your socks to hug your toes.
I remember I liked how you looked
when you told me that,
bathed in a beam of refrigerator light
like a helicopter search, the corner
of your mouth twitching upwards
into a lopsided smile.

It begins like this; It ends like this.
God spit us out of his mouth.
God sent a flood to wash us clean.
God made us from dust, and we still haven't
recovered.

You can't drive me out of Eden
without driving yourself out.
You drove us out of Eden, and I
hate you for it. You drove us out of Eden,
and I love you anyway.
Figure that one out.

You don't really know who you are
until you lose it.
Spilled milk, it's sad, you know?
We forget, we do, everything
except this, the way it settles
in your chest, your heart
working overtime to pump through it.

I have regrets, but
you know that already.
The tumble of words from a
desperate mouth and the
letters still stumbling
home half-drunk, naive.
If I knew you were going to leave,
I would have kept my *******
mouth shut.

I have regrets.
The night the moon wouldn't show
its face and how a confession
felt less like a confession when
mumbled into the side of your neck.

I am still waiting for you, still
counting sheep after they are sheared,
blinking at the shrinking horizon inside you.
Maybe if I could touch you again,
I'd find the braille there that would
make me understand.
yeah
Àŧùl Jan 2017
Oh my gorgeous partner,
Have you forgot it already?

You spent the night awake,
Ended the action with a splurt,
And we spent the night together,
High on fairer hormones we were.

Boosted by your ethereal voice,
And the lightest clapping noise,
Between our action as you jump,
Y**es, up and down on my crotch!!!
A secondary acrostic poem.
I know this is really explicit.
I have marked as explicit.

If you don't wish to read such poems, simply go to your prefences and check the box of "Hide explicit writings" there only.

My HP Poem #1380
©Atul Kaushal
Riley Young Dec 2016
How can you detest me?
You are the one who made me into what I am
Neglecting your creation makes you more loathsome than I
Look at me
Look what you have made
Sammy Durrant Aug 2016
11.
feed on me
         i am

        at what point can i offer my body up for
        sacrifice

       watch me eat myself yeah yeah yeah
       i feel like dying whether or not anyone is around
       i wonder how much of myself I have eaten
Nestoria LR Aug 2016
it was like i fell in love with an open casket
once i fell in
i was already six feet deep in
the problem was
sinking lower
ahmo Aug 2016
status binds us and we are
cutting off limbs with
flat head screwdrivers.

do you hide under the covers like i do?
does the Vicodin block the heat like your air
conditioner?

billiards and midnight jogs do
not swim like professionals do,
but they keep my memory from defaulting
to all the chairs you placed jeans or
leggings
or a hope for a swift removal of pain
inside of a safe with
fingertips stronger than narcotics.

a pass code for purpose is a pig in flight;

we have maps but we will not ever understand how to read them.
ahmo Aug 2016
why doesn't the wind from the swings give enough momentum for us to pick up our feet or
teach us the difference between anger and fear?

my face is always in the dirt, like a colorblind politician or like some self-loathing gardener with no sun-screen.  i bleed daily to ensure i will not bite off more than i can stuff into my pockets while brothers and sisters can't make eye contact and the astrophysicists are left to the shelters.

my eyeballs have poured out onto the cutting board like broken faucets and we rubberneck but
who's actually here to see the show?
Haylen A Wills May 2016
Red rain for we are standing,outlaws of the world.
Frozen stiff in the bitter cold created by man,
Forever gloomy in heavy fog we stand.
We are soaking in red rain,drowning our souls,
While the others are dancing through sun.
Red rain we are breathing,air polluted,sky full of clouds.
While others are cheering,not a single raindrop found.
Red rain for we're dying,Hand in hand we fall,the others do not notice,
They're busy playing ball.
Red rain for we're standing,rotting away,
covered in a heavy fog forever everyday.
Sunshine for the others,freedom and joy,
But red rain we're standing,vaccumed of joy.
Our reflections we are scared of,the others,love them too much.
Cowards in the red rain we are called as such.
Let us have jackets,peace we long to Rome.
Let us walk tords sunshine,forever every step.
Red red for we are tired of,hopelessness no help.
Red rain we are blinded through!
Not a speck of light to see,the sun goers are free,
sight they wouldn't need.
Red rain we feel trapped in!
Though there's way tords the bright.
Picking up heavy feet,getting up when feeling weak,
Blinded,but sun in seek.
Red rain we want to run from,
Feet never able to thaw,
Untill light shines over red rain,
In some thousands years,
When We're gone,
Most of us.
Depressingly awesomeness
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