Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Zack Ripley Jan 22
Feeling numb from my head to my feet.
Like a musician who can't hear the beat.
But that's what happens
when you're making your name in the streets.
Can't trust anyone you meet.
So where do you start
when you can't trust anyone,
let alone your own heart?
You take your time.
Think everything through.
Because only you know
what's best for you
Zack Ripley Nov 2020
You don't see the world I see.
You can't know who I'm meant to be.
So how can I trust you
when you say you know what's best for me?
JuneForever Nov 2019
I breath in and I breath out all the poison you put in me. You stabbed me in the leg but you were on some meds, You said we were playing and now life is just a game that I don't want to play. 

The meds they get you and I guess I don't. The meds went first and I didn't even think to ask twice.

Sometimes you get a little funny on them like say Buenas nachos instead of saying buenas nochez.

Then other times it would sadden me to see you on these meds because the meds took your soul, an the worse night came.

One night I had to watch you but I had to shut my door as you laid up in the other room screaming I want to **** myself. I couldn't reason with you so I had to leave you in your own demise. 

My heart was saddened but I don't think anyone in that house had a will to live but more so a will to leave.

An you were stranded in your own mind and desert of a heart to the point where you were stuck without water and in now where's land.
Jasper Mar 2019
maybe i do like getting into dangerous situations
but im a showwoman
every night i force a bottle of *** down my gullet and feel it burn in my throat
i put on my heels and strut to the stage
and i climb the ladder up to the top to walk the tightrope of love
and inevitably i fall off into the safety net
but the next night i do it all again
because i have to

not for anyone else but for me
because no one thinks i can make it
no ones ever thought i could make it anywhere
people go home from the circus and laugh at me
they call me an alcoholic hack
they comfort themselves with the idea that im worthless
that all ill ever be is the ******* who gets drunk every night and tries to walk a tightrope in heels

and ive learned to be okay with that
because when they leave and the circus is empty
i take the *** with me up to the rope and i sit there
and i picture all their faces in the crowd
everyone that has looked on me with disdain
for trying the same old thing night after night
the ones who tell themselves they know ill never make it to the other side
everyone who thinks im an idiot for thinking ill find my happy ending
everyone who thinks ill never amount to anything but some sad joke to boo at every night

and i picture their faces when my heel clacks onto the other platform
how amazed theyll be
how theyll be so enraptured with my success they rise from their seats and scream my name
and how their thunderous applause will soothe all those impacts into the net below
but in the end it doesnt even matter if theyre there at all
because ill always be chasing that dream of touching the other side

and even if no one sees it
all that matters is my foot clicking on that opposite platform
and every night before will be worth it

and thats the meaning of life
a dream
one that means more to you than the booing crowd
one that means more to you than the glimmer of your skin in the spotlights
one thats all yours and yours alone
one that even if no one else knows about it
it will finally make you feel complete

and one that even when you complete it the first time
youll always come back
night after night
to do it all over again
and be comfortable with the fact youve finally made it
because in the end youre a showman
one married to her work
and as we all know
the show must go on
Pre Nov 2018
I hang in the balance

I traipse the line between free
and consumed

because you spoke to me

really spoke
more than you really ever had
spoke like friends
(maybe more than friends)

and though I thought I was
I’d practiced
hating you
I’d gotten over it
found someone else
(though that’s not going particularly well)
but no

and I know you
that’s the hardest part
I know you

I know that this you
this you I’m falling for
after so many **** times
I’ve lost track

this is not you

this you is the quiet you
the you that likes me
because I’m feisty and a little
the you that teases me,
but never to embarrass
the you that knows I’m vulnerable
and cares
the you that flirts but doesn’t force  
that is kind and friendly and opens up
and tells me
quiet things

But I know that tomorrow
you’ll be someone else
in the hallway
in passing
across the room  

so I’ll miss this you
I’ll get over it
as you proceed to ignore me

only to fall
once more
just when I think I’m free
a smile
as you round the corner
where I stand
your eyes crinkle
at the edges      
they see it all
and they know me
and my heart leaps
once again

you know
I know
It’s all happened before
ode to those feelings you can never truly be rid of ...
Jenny Gordon Apr 2018
...unspeakable gift." (II Cor 9:15)


"They buried me with Mum."   That haunting sense
I'm just a pilgrim wandring in betrayl
These des'late wastes all else call home, sans bail
Despite new clothes, accessries for pretense,
And dearest friends to joy with me from hence
Or weep or who-cares-what, this world to scale
Some dish that wants salt, lacking flavour--they'll
Assure me tis grand--mocks life sans defense.
If Hollywood laughs in the face as twere
Of good and righteous, where designers too
Are filthy past all words and smiling fer
Applause, I'm sans a home sans her.  Then You
Remind me "one thing's needful---" to bestir
Hope that my home, LORD's:  You.  Life.  O!  Who knew?

Dunno why the verse in my title pulled the carpet out from under my feet, but there you go.  (If you want to see it originally posted I guess 4 hours earlier on AP--[]
Jenny Gordon Mar 2018
for Courtney S. Jennings' "upon the surface of the deep"--


Depression's clammy fingers slip fr'intents
'Non twixt her empty ones cuz in betrayl:
She is a woman.  Like some ghost t'avail,
That mist creeps through her veins til ah, from thence
We feel it in our bones, as if good sense
Bows low the head to yield to that detail
Which eats small joys erst wont to be more hale,
And she melts through the floor, a puddle hence.
Thus I embrace November's ghastly tour
Of Death and call grey hours MINE likeas due.
Find solace in these naked boughs that stir
But dimly to winds' chilly breath, as't woo;
Yearn thus to wander through the firs, in poor
'Scuse?  Nah, cuz Thy voice seems there, or is't who?

J Ray Jun 2014
My ears hear all the words that you sing                               c.6.21.14
And it sounds like the whisper of spring
Your smile captures my fainting heart
Although we seem to be worlds apart
Your lips say the words I want to hear
Your fingers hold my heart so sincere
I'm caught in your spell so mesmerized
And your eyes they got me hypnotized
So stay with me and leave your scent
For me to remember the time we spent
You build me up and tear me down
You can do it all without a sound
My moves are measured by your grace
My love is measured by your embrace
Upon my heart you have written your name
The one I love, I.. will never be the same
So feel my skin, and touch my soul
My heart is yours to have and to hold
And if it should break into tiny pieces
In the shards of my heart our love releases
As always, comments and critique are appreciated! Thanks for taking time to read my attempts.

— The End —