Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#chromatics
We're like chromatics So close together yet not in tune We're like fanatics So busy looking we miss our June We're so focused on future We miss what happening around us We're so focused on the past We miss the gardens and the flowers Don't abandon me Don't leave me alone Please don't make me Sit here with myself We are lonely nightmares Haunting pasts that will not leave We are mental warfare My livelihood you like to reave Don't abandon me Don't leave me alone Please don't make me Sit here with myself Sitting in the dark Your embrace like death takes me over Wondering where's the spark Just to hear you scream and lose composure I want emotion to feel your breath just one last time Of pure devotion to give it all up for my prime I will take off my mask just so long as you take off yours I will show you myself and all that's kept behind closed doors
0
Apr 21, 2019
Apr 21, 2019 at 8:29 PM UTC
Chromatics
It was softness spun around in candy floss, but sickly sweet and now they're craving from the loss. Their fingers are sticky; their lips pulled apart. Oh, please Candy, don't let them in your heart.
0
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 1:18 AM UTC
Red Paisley Patterns
Anticipating discomfort as high heels climb stairs with light steps to avoid clicks. Attempt to dodge the cigarette brigade with quick nods and hellos. Finally on their floor with labored breathing. They are so loud- heard down the hall. Behind the door there are friends waiting for the next best topic. Greeting friends, drunk and drinking more. Open the door to loud friends, laughing over each others voices. The only thing worse than the clamor is the spilt stout that nobody noticed. But hugs and wise cracks are still in order. Holding hands with a cup of speaking serum, with eyes that already seek a clock. It's too early, we've only just got here. Obligation to talk. Spy the lascivious in peripherals- in the corners of the room. What languid lovers narcotics make. High stakes with low gains, leaves mouths with ****** tastes. Words exchanged in witty waste. Spy the conversations that selective hearing couldn't rid about you- about him, about them and the trouble we're in. Avoid eye-contact, but answer to "What's going on with you? New job?" with a smile and a nod and an "It's cool." Burning desire for an air without so many ****** breaths. Someone is hurling in the bathroom- and friends are singing desperation. Tap toes and fidget, avoid more conversation. Everyone is so involved, now. Gravitating around the life of the party. The foyer's empty. A platinum opportunity. Fake a bathroom break. Apartments don't have back-doors, and comings a regret. Slip past the lazy leg bridges. No one's looking yet. In between coffee tables and couches. No one's looking, yet. but some are rising for the night trips of cancer indulgence. Jet for the door and ever so silently close it when you're beyond for relief. The air is already colder- slip off the heels and run barefoot in to the rest of the night, safe and alone with yourself and your secrets. Ignore the question texts. Houdini? Disappearing acts. No, you're Candy. you don't let them in your heart. Ignore the question texts, don't explain yourself next time either.
0
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 9:08 AM UTC
Irish Goodbye
Anticipating discomfort as high heels climb stairs with light steps to avoid clicks. Attempt to dodge the cigarette brigade with quick nods and hellos. Finally on their floor with labored breathing. They are so loud- heard down the hall. Behind the door there are friends waiting for the next best topic. Greeting friends, drunk and drinking more. Open the door to loud friends, laughing over each others voices. The only thing worse than the clamor is the spilt stout that nobody noticed. But hugs and wise cracks are still in order. Holding hands with a cup of speaking serum, with eyes that already seek a clock. It's too early, we've only just got here. Obligation to talk. Spy the lascivious in peripherals- in the corners of the room. What languid lovers narcotics make. High stakes with low gains, leaves mouths with ****** tastes. Words exchanged in witty waste. Spy the conversations that selective hearing couldn't rid about you- about him, about them and the trouble we're in. Avoid eye-contact, but answer to "What's going on with you? New job?" with a smile and a nod and an "It's cool." Burning desire for an air without so many ****** breaths. Someone is hurling in the bathroom- and friends are singing desperation. Tap toes and fidget, avoid more conversation. Everyone is so involved, now. Gravitating around the life of the party. The foyer's empty. A platinum opportunity. Fake a bathroom break. Apartments don't have back-doors, and comings a regret. Slip past the lazy leg bridges. No one's looking yet. In between coffee tables and couches. No one's looking, yet. but some are rising for the night trips of cancer indulgence. Jet for the door and ever so silently close it when you're beyond for relief. The air is already colder- slip off the heels and run barefoot in to the rest of the night, safe and alone with yourself and your secrets. Ignore the question texts. Houdini? Disappearing acts. No, you're Candy. you don't let them in your heart. Ignore the question texts, don't explain yourself next time either.
Continue reading...
70