myaddiction

I'm addicted to love.
And
I'm addicted to blond hair.
And
the color blue.
and
I'm addicted to the smell of smoke.
And
I'm addicted to the way I feel around you.
And
I'm addicted to green eyes.
And
Im addicted to sunshine.
And
warmth.
I'm addicted to sadness.
And
I'm addicted to hiding.

But most of all.

*I'm addicted to being alone.

i will stop writing poetry like a eulogy when you start making me feel alive

do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.

Insomnia
I'm not sure
Are we friends?
Or enemies?
I prefer the nighttime
It's quiet and peaceful
The calmness alone is beautiful
For that, Insomnia
I thank you
For all of the times I needed to be asleep however
But didn't even know where to begin
I struggle with you
Laying in bed
Wide awake
Bombarded with thoughts
To a point where my body is so exhausted
Yet my brain is running laps
It's a love-hate relationship I have with you Insomnia
Can I catch a break?

Eyes pierce through the empty space you occupy. Silent echoes, your vocal renounced by the wind. Standing at the shore of waves and storms, you surrender to the inevitable as the sun rises.

Shall I compare thee to a Winter’s night ?
Thou art more ugly and more bitter cold:
Soft fogs do wrap the vestiges of light,
And winters lease hath all too long a hold:
Sometimes too cold the hand of hell can feel,  
And rarely is her blackness ever lit;
And every shade and shadow oft conceal,          
By scheme, or nature’s sly force of habit
But thy eternal winter will not pass
Nor find concession in the surgeon’s knife    
Nor can repair or lift your sagging ****
When in infernal lines is etched your life
So long as men can wink and ribs can poke
So long lives this, and you are such a joke.

You're the sea I've been swimming in.

And I'm drowning.

The oxygen I've been breathing is too heavy,

And I'm sinking.

I see you struggling to swim beside me, "Help me!"

And I'm screaming.

But instead you chose to push me away.

*And I'm dying.

It was many and many a year ago,
  In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
  By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
  Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
  In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
  I and my ANNABEL LEE;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
  Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
  In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
  My beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
  And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
  In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
  Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
  In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
  Chilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
  Of those who were older than we—
  Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
  Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
  In her sepulchre there by the sea—
  In her tomb by the side of the sea.