#perks
With its perks and quirks
you are exactly where
you're supposed to be
in this notion of motion
Engineered machines work
decisions guaranteed to irk
Keep those wheels turned
and focus on what is appropriate
Until a ***** curves
What went wrong
for those cogs to stop
When at speed it's hard to
see flaws before the system pops
May 13, 2020
May 13, 2020 at 9:08 AM UTC
Every day is a different story,
But cycles tend to form.
Cycles, cycles, cycles, cycles, cycles.
Compulsive, depressive, manic, crazy.
It’s like a CD skip- skip- skip- skipping,
But it’s not like she can remember why she was mad in the first place.
Doesn’t recall the fight you yelled at her for,
Can’t seem to forget her love for you though.
Roller coasters are her favorite.
Did you hear me? IRONY AT ITS FINEST.
Up and down and around and around,
Riding and being thrown by the waves over and over.
Thank you for putting up with her swinging,
Back and forth, like two-face.
She can’t control it, she didn’t want to be this way,
But God said she was strong enough...isn’t she?
At least she has good music tastes,
Riding around, the stations changing with her beautiful moods.
Smoke blowing out the windows,
She’s the one the music talks about: Here and Gone without a trace.
Do you think she ever gets tired?
Tired trying to keep up with her day to day phases?
Pha- Pha- Phases like the moon.
Beauty ever changing, but silent. Stuck in her head.
You love her though right?
I mean, think about it.
When it’s a good day, she’s so understanding and chill and all-around perfect.
Those days make every other worth it.
Right?
God bless the cycles, cycles, cy- cy- cycles.
For one whole day she’s uncontrollable.
Asking you a million questions and wanting to hug you for as long and as tight as she can.
Kisses, “I love yous,” excitement, annoyance.
“Can we get a pet octopus?
Oh pretty pretty please?
Can I cut my hair or dye it bright pink?”
“You hate pink” you say, but there she goes again.
Down down down the rabbit hole.
Off again she goes.
Hair flying in the breeze, that perfume you bought her still on your shirt.
Irri- irri- irritate- irritation.
The day very next, not even 24 hours yet,
Tears falling down her face, rivers of black eyeliner.
She doesn’t get out of bed.
“Baby what’s wrong?”
Nothing is ever truly wrong.
It’s like a weight on her chest, suppressing her every move.
A deep, black hole in the pit of her stomach, isn’t that what she said?
Misery at its finest. Almost like she’s already dead.
Why put up with her then?
Why ride this roller coaster?
Why hold her tight when she laughs?
Why hold her tight when she cries?
You see, why would anyone in the first place?
In fact, there’s no perks to dating a bipolar girl.
Not one.
Not at all.
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 12:03 AM UTC
I cannot see
My heart longs to move
As I start to
tap
tap
tap tap tap
Neon lights shine all around
getting brighter the more I tap
and move
My soul perks up
like a flower getting water
after going a day without
My face begins to glow
Dancing is life
It is all I know
that brings light to my world
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 5:23 PM UTC
You ask me why I'm so guarded,
Why I won't let you in,
And why I stayed in bed for three months after my 18th birthday.
Maybe you should be asking why my favorite movie is perks.
We love the things we relate with.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 12:23 PM UTC
**I gave you
all the love
I could give.
And you took
all the love
when you left.
Even that love,
that love I
reserved for myself.**
-qyf
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 4:13 AM UTC
We wanted to be big girls since we were little ones
we used mom's lipstick
and pretended we were mature and pretty enough
to have red, bright lips
and shiny, size six golden shoes
mum used to tell me I was pretty
and she let me use her lipstick
but I didn't really like it
so I rushed to the backyard
I tangled wild flowers in my hair
usually mixed with dandelions
and mint leaves
sometimes a couple of ladybugs came by
and after that I just stood there
being happy
and crowning myself
as the Butterfly Queen
and mum got angry
because I was a mess
and my hair was tangled
and full of dirt
seems like flowers in my hair
didn't make me pretty at all
but now I am a grown up, and I am happy too,
because I can put eyeliner without getting teary eyes
and I can tangle mint leaves in my hair:
mum can't yell at an adult now, huh?
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC
I fell in love like the way you fall asleep: like getting hit by a ******* bus that knocks you out of your senses and In that moment I swear we were infinitely in love but ********* you left me on my own. I know love and lust don't always keep the same company but I find great companionship in your eyes and I'm quite hoping you'll stick around. May the odds be ever in our favor of falling in love again in the empty house we once called mine where i'm divergent and I can only be controlled by my fears (of losing you) that send me recoiling in your arms every night; I solemnly swear that I am up to no good and I spend every second wishing you'd love me like I love you.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC
Dear Emma Watson -
Shall we make love
The object of
Our spiritual quest
Together?
Surely an altogether
Better option
Than pairing you off
In a commentary box
With one John Motson
Discussing twenty two
Pairs of socks
Chasing a piece of leather?
If spiritual questing
Is not for you
I will make do
With tightly tied pairs of shoes
Existential emus,
Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes.
Whilst hoping you find
Your Sherlock Holmes,
Miss Watson
I will content myself with
Cataloguing my collection of
Black and white combs.
I also have plots on
Which I need to work -
Wednesday Addams's love of
Moon dried tomatoes
Or Erica Roe
Somewhere in Portugal
Growing sweet potatoes
For sale.
Don't let anyone tell you
There ain't no perks
To being an Omega Male.
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 8:01 AM UTC
She wasn't so special.
She wasn't even that pretty, and her hair was always a mess, she had tired eyes, also her knees were too skinny and her voice was too loud. She was always in her own world never paying attention to anything I had to say, always scribbling in that notebook of hers I never got a chance to read. She laughed pretty much about anything, and had an opinion about everything, seriously.
Okay, she was that pretty. In fact, the world beautiful wouldn't bring her justice in her worst day. Her hair was a mess, that's for sure, it always fell over her face and I used to pull it back gently. And maybe she had tired eyes for staying up until the moon went to sleep waiting for my 'I'm home' text. I got to say I loved the skinniness of her knees, I remember thinking she was secure with me, that nothing wrong would ever happen to her. She was a loud person, which kind of came in handy whenever she had to stand up for herself, watching her speak up always made me proud.
She was a daydreamer, always over analizing everything, picturing different scenarios and each possible outcome. She promised she would show me that notebook, I remember she mentioned once how every thought that crossed her mind she wrote, that always fascinated me. And her laugh, man, that I could never hate, I would have done anything to hear her laugh. She always told me how having an opinion about everything made her interesting, but I knew that already, for I found her fascinating since the moment I met her.
She knew who she was and she knew what she wanted,
I wish I had figured that out before.
It's too late now.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
You got under my skin,
and ripped my heart out of my chest.
You lit a match against my skin,
and then stayed to watch it burn.
* I still cross continents for you.*
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC