Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
bucky Oct 2014
in the darkness he whispers your name,
and it's not a prayer, but it's not a goodbye, either.
war war war screaming at you from your sheets,
your pillowcase, that book lying open on the couch.
war war war underneath his fingernails
and all you can do is hold each other
(there's a heavy kind of magic in the air, today)
Olga Valerevna Oct 2014
I've holes inside my body no one's ever even seen
My skin is made of something that is thick enough to be
A layer of confusion in the eyes of me for you
But if you want to want me there is nothing I can do

I'll separate the years and cast them out upon the sea
And watch the salted water move, collecting our debris
"There's nothing left to carry," said the wave as if it knew
That we are not each other's, time has split us both in two
two years and going wrong
Justin Gabrielle Oct 2014
An incessant rain
brought everything
to a standstill.

At the moment time stood still,
my sight became
dotted with stars
and got lost in the land
of forty winks.

the crashing waves were an embrace.
my battered body, your glistening eye.
our hearts beat
in time to the rise and fall of the tides.
from this beach,
we look out into the future.
"let's live underwater"
"I will take you where only I know you &
nobody knows our names."

soon after, we were dancing
inside our own universe.
the stars are trembling in anticipation
for every kiss, every caress, and
every touch that we give.

"Take half of my heart.
Wear it like a ring.
This is a promise,
a promise of love that
creation conspired to create."

I wake up.
I wake up to the steady drumming
of the rain on the windows.
I wake up to a night where the
skies empathize with the surge
of feelings.

I wake up to the cries of heaven.
Depression is a deep dark treacherous pit,
in which confined me for years,
I'm just now starting to stay away from it,
I used to always get out and fall back in,
now I'm free of it.
I get sad from time to time, but I overcame my depression.
It's almost killed me more than once.
I had a hard life, drugs didn't help it.
I've been drug free for almost 4 months now,
and I'm more happy than I've ever been,
and I literally have nothing,
but I know that I don't have the anxieties I had when,
I was wheeling and dealing and running and gunning.
wrote this as a comment to someone figured I would post it since I do feel strongly about this. I've been clean for near 4months been trying to get clean for years and I'm finally getting it, I'm a lot happier now. I'm not trying to dog on drug users and dealers I'm just saying that it does work you do make money you do have fun, but I'm happier without that fun. I ruined a lot of lives and their blood is on my hands because of the things I did, I can never change what I've done, I can only change what I do.
liz Sep 2014
"I miss you though."
Is what you say to me
when I suddenly cross your mind
after all this time.
Weeks.
Months.
Years.
Time passes without parachutes
guarding these seconds.

Little do they tell you
about this thing called distance,
it's like a game of Telephone.
And I believe
that your last two words got lost in translation.
"I miss you though, not enough."
I wear the poppy
to celebrate
100 years
since
WW1
sanjana goel Sep 2014
Before I met you,
I was filled with an eternal darkness, forever hating.
It was all I ******* knew...
but alas, I lay there... waiting.

For the ones who would truly care.
The ones who would actually be fair.
Who wouldn't run when my fangs would be bared.

So this is a little rhyme I came up with,
while playing in my head; a low riff.
And it's for you,
because you knew.

You knew my pain,
and you'd stand with me in the harsh rain,
even when I became insane.

So thank you, for letting me have a good start.
For letting me show you my art.
For not trying to dart.
Because you hold 1/3 of my heart.
This is not good, but this is dedicated to a friend who means a lot to me.
Jeremyeckl Aug 2014
My Father's mother wrote me a check
And though she has a checkbook
with her name on it
From four years ago,
She sent me the decadent sum
of twenty-five dollars
On a slip of paper with a name
that was of her husband,
My Father's Father,
And still is.

When I look at this check pinned to my wall
I am reminded of the man,
The eighteen-wheeling man,
And how a few years ago I was afraid
and unamused
So I did not peek into his open casket.

It was a year since I had seen him,
And 'goodbye' escaped my lips (which were sealed
incredibly) until he was lowered.

I hope he went to heaven; if he did not
I am sure I will say 'hello'
After I cash this check,
But not yet.
Next page