Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
****
Every word you said
for they’re just words
and words can do me no harm.
**** those words
That remained just words
Until now
****
Every word you said
Cos I got my hopes up
But words are just words
And after all they were just ..
Words ?
But it got me
Somehow, in either way
Any way.
the poet is dead
but the pen still got an ink
the poem is in rhythm
but i can't figure out the meaning
where the writer writes to write
and not to be written
where it all starts
and the eye darts
on the ****** white page
deeply savaged
by thoughts in mind
serene and appealing
laughing and dancing
to concretize these thoughts
to make immaterial material
to transcend something spiritual
the poet is dead
yet he is living
not lurking in the dark
but educating
the future in the making
Full of hate
Full of anger
Full of sadness
Full of broken pieces
Of broken parts
Of broken hearts

An ended life
A lifeless body
A bodiless soul

Hanging in the air
Lingering
Hunting
Haunting

Full of blackness
Full of blankness
Full of emptiness

Empty
Yet
Full

Full of confusion
Full of shame
Full of blame
Full of torture
Full of hurt

Full of regret
Full of fallenness
Full of worry
Full of worthlessness
Full of exhaustion

Full in death
 Apr 2013 Third Eye Candy
Morgan
It's our tongues tingling
in a thick sea of Vlad
It's impromptu road trips
without a destination
It's all of our legs wrapped
around the same gray sheets
It's eight of us in a four seater
looking at each other through blood shot eyes
It's ****** breakfast food that makes our ribs
ache worse than laughing at our misfortune 
It's twenty seven reruns of
ghost adventures at five in the morning  
It's my hair in the palms of their hands
as my head hangs over the toilet
It's all of their voices talking at once
just to greet the tears on their way out
It's every phone call
that has gently eased me to sleep,
it's every makeshift sing along
that has kept me sane,
it's every tired morning
after every dark night
we spent curing each other,
It's every beautiful
friend we found  in this ugly town
 Apr 2013 Third Eye Candy
Morgan
I left my seat belt beside me,
because I wanted to die

I left my windows wide open,
just to feel *alive
 Apr 2013 Third Eye Candy
Morgan
I'm aching for your taste against my bottom lip
I'm reaching for your warmth between my fingertips
I'm dying to inhale your harsh breath
I inject my stress into you at two in the morning
You morph it into a light gray cloud
and I watch as the sky dissolves it
"Nothing to lose"
The most dangerous line I ever said
The first time I bit the filter
I bit the bullet

Cigarette,
You had me the first time you melted my headache
Into a light & pleasant dizziness that billowed out over the concrete
On my back porch

Cigarette,
I feel your hands tightening their grip over my lungs
I feel you swallowing the air inside of my chest

Cigarette,
I feel you all around me
& I resent you
I resent you now
But I'll come crawling back
Back for more
Follow the sound of my voice.
Into the valleys of the threads of my dark grey sweater that smells like stale cigarettes.
Where everything is soft like worn leather but everything feels like splinters.
It’s disappointing, isn’t it? The air is thick as smog but it’s easy breathing because you’re used to it. You can close your eyes or open them, either way, it’s dark.

Follow the sound of my voice.
Into the nooks of my wrists that are dry like chapped lips.
Where blood runs in thin lines like dental floss but everything stings like cavities.
It’s very sad, isn’t it? The ground lacks love but only hatred tends to it because it’s the only inhabitant that lingers. In these parks, self loathing grows like weeds.

Follow the sound of my voice.
Into the dark alley ways of the unfamiliar city in my thoughts that only spark interest at night.
Where everything is cold like noses in wintertime but everything makes you sweat.
It’s uncomfortable, isn’t it? The pavement is slick like it’s just rained, but you walk steady because implied tightropes are inevitable. Stumbling on sidewalks is a lot like slurring your speech.

Follow the sound of my voice.
Into the basement of my throat that burns like a shot of whiskey.
Where words jam like friday’s traffic but everything flows like fabrication.
It’s disgusting, isn’t it? The walls are closing like big velvet curtains but you plaster them with paintings to make them pretty. This room was always born for being decorated.

Follow the sound of my voice.
Into every locket. Into every liquor cabinet. Into every favorite pair of jeans. Into every corner. Into every attic. Into every cave. Into every town. Into every ocean. Into every promise. Into every secret. Into every open end.
Where everything echos like empty hearts.
Because all I’ve ever known is silence, and for you I’ll never tell my tale.
For weeks, I couldn't sleep
Because nobody was tracing circles on my back
My skin went untouched for so long
Then he finally came along
And drew figure eights across my shoulders
I had almost forgotton what it's like
To have a
Good
Night's
Sleep.
 Apr 2013 Third Eye Candy
Morgan
You've got a pair of strong hips
That pull me in with muffled lies
I've got a pair of soft lips
That you lean into with tired sighs

You've got a pair of bright eyes
That adjust to mine too seamlessly
I've got a pair of dark eyes
That are lost inside your scenery 

You always know just what to say
I fall apart a dozen times a day
We're just living in this dizzy game
Three years later, I still haven't
figured out how to play
You cracked my foundation every which way
But you're the one constantly reshaping the clay
I know that everything I touch is left in disarray
*But I won't sleep
if you don't stay
 Apr 2013 Third Eye Candy
Morgan
I have nothing to say
& that's because I've been asleep for days
The scariest knowledge that I ever gained
was the idea that I can numb my own pain
Now I'm digging rusty nails into my veins
just to wake so I can climb away
It's 4 AM and every butterfly is dead
beneath my ribs, every one with broken wings
from all those times they flew up my spine &
were knocked back down with Xanax & wine
I felt them struggle for a few years before
I felt them give in & now I ache to
resurrect every single one
Numb is right when the burn
is too real but do you know what
it's like to laugh & not feel?
Next page