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"braces" poems
I have the unfortunate belief that my self-worth lies in the quality of my hair. It may sound ridiculous, but it's true. Go ahead, touch my hair. I feed off of your fascination -though I remain engaged only as long as you do- my tolerance for my hair is equivalent to its length. I once had someone tell me "I like your hair better straight" And that was when fifth grade ruined me. I thought by changing they would accept me. And Daniel would like me like he liked Taylor and all of my likes would be returned and Eddie would choose me because we were best friends and I had the fortune of being beautiful but I wasn't allowed to be beautiful to him because I have this hair. People wonder why I spend hours with an iron. But when you're so different that boys won't like you because your hair is curly and you teeth are crooked you have no choice but to change the things that are in your power. I could never make myself fully white But I sure as hell can straighten my hair and let Mamaw buy me braces. They can call you giraffe neck still, but at least your hair is straight like everyone else. Yes, you like to touch it and it's "neat" and it's "soft" But why on earth should that matter to me? People respect my hair because it is mine. But he will not love it unless it is like hers- wind-caught silk that hangs to her waist. I weep for my hair. I weep for my hair. You do not understand how different it is. You do not understand how hard it is to stick out like a sore thumb because your genetics were oppressed for 500 years. I am ugly Because of my hair. No number of people telling me of its beauty will matter because I cannot see it. He cannot see it either.
0
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 2:15 AM UTC
The Biracial Blues (A Tale of Curly Hair)
I have the unfortunate belief that my self-worth lies in the quality of my hair. It may sound ridiculous, but it's true. Go ahead, touch my hair. I feed off of your fascination -though I remain engaged only as long as you do- my tolerance for my hair is equivalent to its length. I once had someone tell me "I like your hair better straight" And that was when fifth grade ruined me. I thought by changing they would accept me. And Daniel would like me like he liked Taylor and all of my likes would be returned and Eddie would choose me because we were best friends and I had the fortune of being beautiful but I wasn't allowed to be beautiful to him because I have this hair. People wonder why I spend hours with an iron. But when you're so different that boys won't like you because your hair is curly and you teeth are crooked you have no choice but to change the things that are in your power. I could never make myself fully white But I sure as hell can straighten my hair and let Mamaw buy me braces. They can call you giraffe neck still, but at least your hair is straight like everyone else. Yes, you like to touch it and it's "neat" and it's "soft" But why on earth should that matter to me? People respect my hair because it is mine. But he will not love it unless it is like hers- wind-caught silk that hangs to her waist. I weep for my hair. I weep for my hair. You do not understand how different it is. You do not understand how hard it is to stick out like a sore thumb because your genetics were oppressed for 500 years. I am ugly Because of my hair. No number of people telling me of its beauty will matter because I cannot see it. He cannot see it either.
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43
You the one with messy brown hair brown eyes with you birthmark over the left side of your face. You who left me crying. You who made me believe in love for the first time. You who stole my first kiss first time first. You with your straight blonde hair blue eyes and that stupid smirk You who left me broken You who showed me a new way of living You who left me being second choice second best second. You with your dark blonde hair hazel eyes you with your beautiful hands You who left me angry You who showed me a different way of love You who went with me on my third concert third love third. You with your curly brown hair hazel eyes with your cute braces you never liked You who left me questioning You who showed how hard love can be You who decided I wasn´t worth it You never happend We never did. I with wavy dark brown hair hazel eyes with freckles on my face I who loved everyone of you but still couldnt forget you, number two I who loved everyone of you but you left me wanting more, number four I who loved everyone of you was being loved. but not anymore.
0
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
You and Me
Never should I love, For never will you love me. Never will your deep, blue eyes Look in mine and read my mind, Like a psychic running her fingers along the lines of my palms. Palms that belong to hands you’ll never hold, And handle with care like you would antique china And at the same time grip with a firmness that tells me you’ll never let go. You’ll never let go because you’ll never wrap your soft, warm arms around me in the first place. Your soul will never entangle with mine and fill that void Left by a **** sliced deep within me. A **** left by my father’s youth, And my mother’s faith, Whose knife cut out their acceptance for me And gouged out my trust in them. Can’t you see that you are the antidote to my lifelong suffering? The Accutane to my welted face, The braces to my crooked teeth, The nitro to my aching heart The rhino to my bulging nose The morphine to my broken mind, The running to my fading health Running, running, running away Far away from this broken house Where your dreams never do come true and Where you come out to yourself alone in the bathroom and Where they can’t ever know the truth because my house is Where God resides in the attic and Where Jesus is the only one you should let in your room at night and Where The Holy Spirit has possessed us all to live a lie because my house is Where lifelong love is dead at the delivery room And who is there to blame but me? Who is there to blame but me? But none of that matters to you. It can’t matter to you, Because all you do is love And love And love And love And love. But you never love me. Each year I have known you I have reached out farther than the last, Yearning for something I could never obtain. Fifteen pushes past Fourteen, Both of whom fall short of Sixteen’s growing arms, Which are narrowly outpaced by Seventeen’s spindly, wirey fingertips. Every Year’s efforts have met the same fate; Failing to reach their target they instead grasp fruitlessly Into a dark, brewing storm, Full of tears, And of crackling sparks of hope That are met with the resounding booms of fate Telling me that I am doomed to be alone. Telling me that never should I love, For never will you love me. But I never listen. Because I know you too well. And I know that someday, Someday soon, You’ll make the happy accident Of stepping too close to my many straining hands, And I’ll pull you near to me And you’ll realize that you never loved her at all. And that you always, always have loved me. -The Boy Who Loves You Too
0
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 10:42 PM UTC
To the Boy Who Won't Love Me:
Never should I love, For never will you love me. Never will your deep, blue eyes Look in mine and read my mind, Like a psychic running her fingers along the lines of my palms. Palms that belong to hands you’ll never hold, And handle with care like you would antique china And at the same time grip with a firmness that tells me you’ll never let go. You’ll never let go because you’ll never wrap your soft, warm arms around me in the first place. Your soul will never entangle with mine and fill that void Left by a **** sliced deep within me. A **** left by my father’s youth, And my mother’s faith, Whose knife cut out their acceptance for me And gouged out my trust in them. Can’t you see that you are the antidote to my lifelong suffering? The Accutane to my welted face, The braces to my crooked teeth, The nitro to my aching heart The rhino to my bulging nose The morphine to my broken mind, The running to my fading health Running, running, running away Far away from this broken house Where your dreams never do come true and Where you come out to yourself alone in the bathroom and Where they can’t ever know the truth because my house is Where God resides in the attic and Where Jesus is the only one you should let in your room at night and Where The Holy Spirit has possessed us all to live a lie because my house is Where lifelong love is dead at the delivery room And who is there to blame but me? Who is there to blame but me? But none of that matters to you. It can’t matter to you, Because all you do is love And love And love And love And love. But you never love me. Each year I have known you I have reached out farther than the last, Yearning for something I could never obtain. Fifteen pushes past Fourteen, Both of whom fall short of Sixteen’s growing arms, Which are narrowly outpaced by Seventeen’s spindly, wirey fingertips. Every Year’s efforts have met the same fate; Failing to reach their target they instead grasp fruitlessly Into a dark, brewing storm, Full of tears, And of crackling sparks of hope That are met with the resounding booms of fate Telling me that I am doomed to be alone. Telling me that never should I love, For never will you love me. But I never listen. Because I know you too well. And I know that someday, Someday soon, You’ll make the happy accident Of stepping too close to my many straining hands, And I’ll pull you near to me And you’ll realize that you never loved her at all. And that you always, always have loved me. -The Boy Who Loves You Too
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68
First there is the prep. The roommate. Wearing salmon colored pants.   He has Shaggy from Scooby Doo On his left thigh. The alcoholic. She has a drinking problem. She is in denial of her drinking problem. She hangs out with the loners. The loners. Unkempt, unattractive and fat in all the wrong places. The blond looks like Tom Petty. The one with dark hair, glasses and braces They live next door. Living together but segregated.  Wild cards. All of us. ©Gambit '13
0
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 9:10 AM UTC
The Characters In This Film
I have a boyfriend I shout to myself, Pinching my upper thigh And blinking away from The sight of them. She giggles and I notice Her laugh is lopsided And she's too short To be that loud. Her shoulders are too far forward And even I notice the Gross stain on her Upper left canine Between her braces That are bright, neon green. She's my best friend. I don't mean to think of her in that way, I love her like a sister. But it pops into the front of my brain When I see them together. I don't even like him In that way Anymore. I have a boyfriend, And all he was Was a whispered fifth grade crush. That's what I tell myself. He looks at her like She's a million bucks. Her crooked teeth Earn her six cents, In my opinion. I take it back within a second, But the thought was still there. Jealousy makes me into a monster.
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Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
Jealous
I Craw in the Urban Jungle night after night, making shadows my best friend Because my pale skin would get sunburn in the day time. Many of you have read about me on the internet, But don't know if we exist like the Yeti or Bigfoot Every now and then you see photos of me and hear stories about our existence But here I am, White, Nerdy and…. Nerdy Nerdy like the Nerds falling out of the box and skipping on the floor of my lair (or my parents basement whatever you call it). Some moments you will find me praying to my shrine for my savior, Weird Al Yankovic Many of you may call us “ Losers” But let me take a moment to tell you why you are wrong, in every way. First off, We are not losers we just win at things that you don't care about Like the Rubik's Cube, Dungeon and Dragons, and Larping We don’t care about making friends, getting the poo tang, or getting high off of our ***** No we are too occupied trying to plan how we will survive the zombie apocalypse, Or debating on if Star Wars is better than Star Track. We are too busy reading comic books, Leveling up our one handedness On Skyrim of course. You think that we are hideous, But in all reality, my acne improves my defenses against mother nature, My braces are actually tools that government uses so they can reflect solar flares back to space I'm ugly because god decided to make me pick up girls on ******** mode because before you Meet me it was way too easy. Many of you think that we are weak I may have spaghetti arms, no abs, but you know what, no problem, Because if you look at my shadow, you see someone that 10 feet tall and bulletproof I am a nerd, hear me roar. My roar breaks your paper thin confidence As it just floats in the wind like leaves, leaving the tree in October My roar will rock your house with all of your friends leaving you alone because in the end, you May be popular but lets be honest, who are your real friends? Call me weak, I dare you Being a nerd has taught me many things Like don't eat cake because it is deceiving And that Neo should of taken the blue pill Because that movie series was terrible. And that DC Comics is the best, ***** Marvel But the one thing it taught me the most is that be proud of myself.
0
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
I Am a Nerd, Hear Me Roar
I Craw in the Urban Jungle night after night, making shadows my best friend Because my pale skin would get sunburn in the day time. Many of you have read about me on the internet, But don't know if we exist like the Yeti or Bigfoot Every now and then you see photos of me and hear stories about our existence But here I am, White, Nerdy and…. Nerdy Nerdy like the Nerds falling out of the box and skipping on the floor of my lair (or my parents basement whatever you call it). Some moments you will find me praying to my shrine for my savior, Weird Al Yankovic Many of you may call us “ Losers” But let me take a moment to tell you why you are wrong, in every way. First off, We are not losers we just win at things that you don't care about Like the Rubik's Cube, Dungeon and Dragons, and Larping We don’t care about making friends, getting the poo tang, or getting high off of our ***** No we are too occupied trying to plan how we will survive the zombie apocalypse, Or debating on if Star Wars is better than Star Track. We are too busy reading comic books, Leveling up our one handedness On Skyrim of course. You think that we are hideous, But in all reality, my acne improves my defenses against mother nature, My braces are actually tools that government uses so they can reflect solar flares back to space I'm ugly because god decided to make me pick up girls on ******** mode because before you Meet me it was way too easy. Many of you think that we are weak I may have spaghetti arms, no abs, but you know what, no problem, Because if you look at my shadow, you see someone that 10 feet tall and bulletproof I am a nerd, hear me roar. My roar breaks your paper thin confidence As it just floats in the wind like leaves, leaving the tree in October My roar will rock your house with all of your friends leaving you alone because in the end, you May be popular but lets be honest, who are your real friends? Call me weak, I dare you Being a nerd has taught me many things Like don't eat cake because it is deceiving And that Neo should of taken the blue pill Because that movie series was terrible. And that DC Comics is the best, ***** Marvel But the one thing it taught me the most is that be proud of myself.
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36
A newborn to a novice Mom, such a burden all at once, so much to do, the day is gone too soon – a crying bundle makes the night so long But it is such a joy! The changes in life are so unreal, schedules can never be the same, but soon a balance will appear, life will be normal once again, Almost! As years fly by, the bundle grows, the diapers gone now, outgrown clothes, tonsils out, braces in, “why can’t I go” a familiar sound! And all too soon that little bundle of joy is ready to face the world. We hope that we have done a good job, and we try not to hold them too tight to us, we must let go! The time has come to let them fly, that tiny hand that clung to you has grown and holds another now. Don’t cry Mom, don’t be sad, it’s all been worth it, and maybe soon, another small bundle will enter your life, and ah, who is the novice now??
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Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
The Novice
There's a difference between looking and seeing. You can look at me, but I wonder more what you see. Brown eyes, brown hair, barely more than five feet tall; my feet are small, as are my hands; my teeth are straight, thanks to braces; shoulders been broad since I swam, but my figure is much less athletic than it used to be. I could look at myself and point out a million flaws. My forehead is much too big for my liking, my cheeks are too red, my top lip is so skinny it barely exists, and, if you ask me, my waist line could afford to look a little more like my upper lip. My looks are far from perfect. Not saying I'm hideous, but I don't look in the mirror to find America's Next Top Model, or anything close, at least not until my face is perfectly painted, flaws concealed under a combination of moderately priced makeup and a rather crafty hand. When I look, physical imperfections and inadequacies stare back at me. My overly expressive light brown eyes give me an omnipotent glance, and they beg me to turn away, to close them, to put them to sleep so that I can see. When I see, it's like a whole new me. I'm a human being whose physical flaws are diminished by an overly giving, compassionate heart, a brain filled of logic & curiosity, a chest swollen full of endless giggles, a throat storing sarcastic words mixed in with empathetic phrases; down within me I see the woman who still at times looks and feels more like the girl whose heart has been broken too many times to count but still, despite her womanly pessimism, yearns optimistically to love again. Within me I see a woman with confidence and also insecurity, ambition and fear, tranquility and rage, hope and despair; I see dreams, wishes, prayers, meditation; I see a beautifully complex soul trapped in a world that begs it for simplicity and conformity. I guess when I look I only get a glimpse of the body that feels the need to be perfect, to work out a little more, to weigh a little less, to fix her hair the right way, and to dress in the right clothes. The self-conscious me who still fears being weird, who cares what others think, who worries if my parents are proud. But when I see, out comes the woman who says **** the status quo, I can't be put in a box, I'm beautiful the way I am, and nothing stands between me and achieving my dreams.* When I look, I don't see, but when I see, I see me. I feel the brim of my glasses graze my nose, and I know, even once I take 'em off, my vision is better than ever.
0
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 11:59 PM UTC
20/20 Vision
There's a difference between looking and seeing. You can look at me, but I wonder more what you see. Brown eyes, brown hair, barely more than five feet tall; my feet are small, as are my hands; my teeth are straight, thanks to braces; shoulders been broad since I swam, but my figure is much less athletic than it used to be. I could look at myself and point out a million flaws. My forehead is much too big for my liking, my cheeks are too red, my top lip is so skinny it barely exists, and, if you ask me, my waist line could afford to look a little more like my upper lip. My looks are far from perfect. Not saying I'm hideous, but I don't look in the mirror to find America's Next Top Model, or anything close, at least not until my face is perfectly painted, flaws concealed under a combination of moderately priced makeup and a rather crafty hand. When I look, physical imperfections and inadequacies stare back at me. My overly expressive light brown eyes give me an omnipotent glance, and they beg me to turn away, to close them, to put them to sleep so that I can see. When I see, it's like a whole new me. I'm a human being whose physical flaws are diminished by an overly giving, compassionate heart, a brain filled of logic & curiosity, a chest swollen full of endless giggles, a throat storing sarcastic words mixed in with empathetic phrases; down within me I see the woman who still at times looks and feels more like the girl whose heart has been broken too many times to count but still, despite her womanly pessimism, yearns optimistically to love again. Within me I see a woman with confidence and also insecurity, ambition and fear, tranquility and rage, hope and despair; I see dreams, wishes, prayers, meditation; I see a beautifully complex soul trapped in a world that begs it for simplicity and conformity. I guess when I look I only get a glimpse of the body that feels the need to be perfect, to work out a little more, to weigh a little less, to fix her hair the right way, and to dress in the right clothes. The self-conscious me who still fears being weird, who cares what others think, who worries if my parents are proud. But when I see, out comes the woman who says **** the status quo, I can't be put in a box, I'm beautiful the way I am, and nothing stands between me and achieving my dreams.* When I look, I don't see, but when I see, I see me. I feel the brim of my glasses graze my nose, and I know, even once I take 'em off, my vision is better than ever.
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138
this is a medical emergency ossified in utero part the hair to cover pink earwax scar innervated this cochlea this ******* that steals the spotlight and rooster’s comb braised sockets for teeth wired through the rafters kissing corner braces shallow chromium double-eye poke like a pile of face bones stacked paul bunyan forest slide and jump from the peak to the pool shallow and undisturbed to dunk your face and see future pure voodoo spirit board and voice box locked with tongue-ectomy removal of cough through neck hole cardboard cut stickers in half to write ***** I’m done.*
0
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC
blood and guts folklore
There's not quite a face like yours No one else but me adores Mapped out, pinned inside my head Still think of you when I lay in bed I asked if we could get a picture You obliged and said, "Okay, sure," Your braces cyan at that time Wished right then that you'd be mine Then you left and went to places Red was the color of your braces Last time, you got to Singapore Back home I rotted to the core Saw you then not too long after Give or take just one year later Turned my head back, saw your smile Happiest I've felt in a while
0
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 1:44 AM UTC
The Man
Our heart burns broken at the ends, they fail us, keep building my lungs are wax inside my ribs, you’re burning, well I’m breathing this back breaks walked on from carrying friends, can’t stop now, still working your life’s like rain drops on my tongue, I believe you, keep raining and it’s alright, it’s alright, we are not right now complete and I’m alright, you’re gonna be alright, we might never be complete but the water keeps rising, it’s rising, everybody get into the water and hold each others hands and lives, let’s all push our hearts together.... we’re gonna leave these shores right now, be everything we’ve never been but you gotta swear to promise that we’ll never go back again, ever again and we’re not just islands lying beside each others shorelines we’re all bound with veins and hopes, we are not each others ghosts our hearts are abridged, let's build bridges to each other so this river won’t take us under filled with monsters and goblins, they keep dragging the bottom our life is a bridge, let’s build bridges to each other and pray we don’t go under, oh these careless waters I’m trying not to confuse: being used, with giving all I am by: being used, and giving everything I have, all I am so I’ll build a bridge with hollow bones filled with hollow teeth inside a hollow heart, with the insides carved and let the blood in these veins freeze let the water in these veins freeze and break and flood the dam we are all we have, this is all we need, hold on it may never end and I might have to drink my teeth again if I wash up on the coast so I’ll build a bridge with all that’s left, & not make any more new ghosts show me your life, wide and bright, I hope that patience fills the seams keep what’s inside, dry and right, you arch the frame I’ll span the beams our lives are a bridge for us to give, I want to build a better bridge from every wrong we’ve done to each other, if I forgive will you forgive? cause one day we’re gonna close our eyes for death or rest and abandon ourself, this weak mind and breath and the columns we made, and roots we grew down deep will be pulled and gathered in to firewood, and burnt for heat but when the tension shifts, and these braces turn I’ll try and build a better bridge and when all our piers burn, and the hinges miss I’m gonna build a better bridge our hearts are abridged, let’s build bridges to each other so we don’t take ourselves under Our heart burns broken at the ends, they fail us, keep building my lungs are wax inside my ribs, you’re burning, I’m still breathing this back breaks walked on carry friends, can’t stop now, still working your life’s like rain drops on my tongue, I believe you, keep raining our lives are a bridge for us to give, I want to build a better bridge from every wrong we’ve done to each other, if I forgive will you forgive? our hearts are abridged, let’s build bridges to each other so this river won’t take us under, so we don’t take ourselves under our lives are a bridge, let’s build bridges to each other and pray we don’t go under, oh these careless waters our lives are a bridge for us to give, I want to build a better bridge from every wrong we’ve done to each other, if I forgive will you forgive? our lives are a bridge for us to give, I want to build a better bridge from every wrong we’ve done to each other, if I forgive will you forgive? our hearts are abridged, let’s build bridges to each other so this river won’t take us under, so we don’t take ourselves under
0
May 12, 2012
May 12, 2012 at 3:26 PM UTC
BUILDING BETTER BRIDGES (the silver city)
Our heart burns broken at the ends, they fail us, keep building my lungs are wax inside my ribs, you’re burning, well I’m breathing this back breaks walked on from carrying friends, can’t stop now, still working your life’s like rain drops on my tongue, I believe you, keep raining and it’s alright, it’s alright, we are not right now complete and I’m alright, you’re gonna be alright, we might never be complete but the water keeps rising, it’s rising, everybody get into the water and hold each others hands and lives, let’s all push our hearts together.... we’re gonna leave these shores right now, be everything we’ve never been but you gotta swear to promise that we’ll never go back again, ever again and we’re not just islands lying beside each others shorelines we’re all bound with veins and hopes, we are not each others ghosts our hearts are abridged, let's build bridges to each other so this river won’t take us under filled with monsters and goblins, they keep dragging the bottom our life is a bridge, let’s build bridges to each other and pray we don’t go under, oh these careless waters I’m trying not to confuse: being used, with giving all I am by: being used, and giving everything I have, all I am so I’ll build a bridge with hollow bones filled with hollow teeth inside a hollow heart, with the insides carved and let the blood in these veins freeze let the water in these veins freeze and break and flood the dam we are all we have, this is all we need, hold on it may never end and I might have to drink my teeth again if I wash up on the coast so I’ll build a bridge with all that’s left, & not make any more new ghosts show me your life, wide and bright, I hope that patience fills the seams keep what’s inside, dry and right, you arch the frame I’ll span the beams our lives are a bridge for us to give, I want to build a better bridge from every wrong we’ve done to each other, if I forgive will you forgive? cause one day we’re gonna close our eyes for death or rest and abandon ourself, this weak mind and breath and the columns we made, and roots we grew down deep will be pulled and gathered in to firewood, and burnt for heat but when the tension shifts, and these braces turn I’ll try and build a better bridge and when all our piers burn, and the hinges miss I’m gonna build a better bridge our hearts are abridged, let’s build bridges to each other so we don’t take ourselves under Our heart burns broken at the ends, they fail us, keep building my lungs are wax inside my ribs, you’re burning, I’m still breathing this back breaks walked on carry friends, can’t stop now, still working your life’s like rain drops on my tongue, I believe you, keep raining our lives are a bridge for us to give, I want to build a better bridge from every wrong we’ve done to each other, if I forgive will you forgive? our hearts are abridged, let’s build bridges to each other so this river won’t take us under, so we don’t take ourselves under our lives are a bridge, let’s build bridges to each other and pray we don’t go under, oh these careless waters our lives are a bridge for us to give, I want to build a better bridge from every wrong we’ve done to each other, if I forgive will you forgive? our lives are a bridge for us to give, I want to build a better bridge from every wrong we’ve done to each other, if I forgive will you forgive? our hearts are abridged, let’s build bridges to each other so this river won’t take us under, so we don’t take ourselves under
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56
The universe embraces As the world spits you out The earth it braces As society knits you out “Please bleed for me,” We know you have a disease” Shouts the eyes of twelve cobras Leaning in their courtroom seats Volcanic Androgynous Raunchy Delicate Torment Ecstasy Free
0
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 6:15 PM UTC
Saliva
Spiders. Snakes. Late nights, due to the fact that once I saw a possum in our garage when it was dark out. Good looking people not thinking I'm good looking. Holding children. I might drop them. My brothers growing up to be just like me. Shark attacks. Jumping off high places. Headphones that go too deep into my ears. Going the opposite direction of so many cars. I'm the only one going my way.  They're probably headed the right way. They're probably having more fun. Realizing that, after being on the road for a while, my high beams have been on the whole time. Sorry. Cockroaches. Family reunions where I'm not sure if that really attractive girl is my family or someone's friend. Climbing up the stairs of the Bombay ride at Wet N' Wild because there just slabs of stone I can see under. I could slip and fall right through. Enjoying bad bands. Letting my girlfriend look into my eyes. Talking on the phone. Growing up. Refusing to grow up. Reading this over if I ever finish it and realizing that I am something less than a regular human being.  Probably an animal of some kind. Frogs. Big animals. Waking up one day as the same person I always have been. Standing still. My parents. Not spending the rest of my life with the girl I swore I would. Texting people too often. My parents dying. Whales. My teeth being this awful the rest of my life. Braces. Making people think they offended me.  People never offend me. Writing anything that's ever as good as Ernest Hemingway.  How dare I think that I ever could. Running too hard.  My heart might burst. Being unreasonable. Am I unreasonable? Sticking my finger inside an air conditioning vent in a car.  I don't know if there's a fan in there.  I don't know if it'll take my finger off. Getting people's hopes up. Letting people down. Fish. Bees. Being a teacher. My laugh. Wearing bad clothes. Holding her hand too hard.  I might cut off circulation.  She might get mad. My brother disapproving of what I do. Heaven because it sounds awful doing the same thing for the rest of forever. Finding out I've been gay this whole time. Cracking my fingers. Being a parent. Whales. Final exams. Paranormal Activity 4. Singing on cue. Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Eating insects. Whales. Silence. The open ocean. Whales. Whales.
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Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 12:45 PM UTC
A List of Things I'm Afraid of
Spiders. Snakes. Late nights, due to the fact that once I saw a possum in our garage when it was dark out. Good looking people not thinking I'm good looking. Holding children. I might drop them. My brothers growing up to be just like me. Shark attacks. Jumping off high places. Headphones that go too deep into my ears. Going the opposite direction of so many cars. I'm the only one going my way.  They're probably headed the right way. They're probably having more fun. Realizing that, after being on the road for a while, my high beams have been on the whole time. Sorry. Cockroaches. Family reunions where I'm not sure if that really attractive girl is my family or someone's friend. Climbing up the stairs of the Bombay ride at Wet N' Wild because there just slabs of stone I can see under. I could slip and fall right through. Enjoying bad bands. Letting my girlfriend look into my eyes. Talking on the phone. Growing up. Refusing to grow up. Reading this over if I ever finish it and realizing that I am something less than a regular human being.  Probably an animal of some kind. Frogs. Big animals. Waking up one day as the same person I always have been. Standing still. My parents. Not spending the rest of my life with the girl I swore I would. Texting people too often. My parents dying. Whales. My teeth being this awful the rest of my life. Braces. Making people think they offended me.  People never offend me. Writing anything that's ever as good as Ernest Hemingway.  How dare I think that I ever could. Running too hard.  My heart might burst. Being unreasonable. Am I unreasonable? Sticking my finger inside an air conditioning vent in a car.  I don't know if there's a fan in there.  I don't know if it'll take my finger off. Getting people's hopes up. Letting people down. Fish. Bees. Being a teacher. My laugh. Wearing bad clothes. Holding her hand too hard.  I might cut off circulation.  She might get mad. My brother disapproving of what I do. Heaven because it sounds awful doing the same thing for the rest of forever. Finding out I've been gay this whole time. Cracking my fingers. Being a parent. Whales. Final exams. Paranormal Activity 4. Singing on cue. Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Eating insects. Whales. Silence. The open ocean. Whales. Whales.
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60
I admit the Pressures you Three must pass Your own Barometres took quite a toll From Stubborn Demands your ****** Peers had Compel you to Shrink and keep on a Roll But there are VALUES; Those Trusted Elders In Humble Present their Words will sure Guide All you need is some Time for yourselves, Brothers Such that its Petals will unwrap for your Sight Kind and apt Admiral! May your Shoes fill Set their Braces to walk they know can Trust So even if Hooties make Milk-Thoughts spill A Shielding Light to soap their Dunged Shells, must. This is just an Advice. Again from a Friend Whose busy Torrents tries to Help does rend.
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Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:57 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - FOURTY-THREE - TOM DALEY
On the tip of my tongue you burned like hot coffee, With a hit of my blunt you’ve undone my lofty, made me a softy, I wont forget. Denim jacket leaning down, you’ve got room in your throat, You’ve got words in your coat, Pockets full of notes. Ink on your arms that wrap, wrap around me, Words pushing on your teeth like braces, Laces, Up your shoes that walk all around me, I won't forget. Maybe whisper it now or tell me tomorrow. Denim jacket leaning down, tippy toes to kiss your nose. You’ve made me a softy, I won’t forget. Sweet and simply say it from behind those curtains, Smoke in your nose from my fire lungs, Stain my breath with your words, Blessed syllables, I won’t forget.
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Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 10:28 PM UTC
Denim Jacket Leaning Down
You get the know it alls Their noses stuck rigidly in books like bookmarks You get the geeks Gamers with eyes shrunk; shiny braces flashing You get the quiet ones Assessing everything going on; owlish blinks You get the cheeky ones Hilarious antics all around; always surprising You get the nosy ones With obnoxious questions and averting eyes You get the prissy neat freaks Panicking religiously over messes; loud moaner You get the bossy buck tooth's Spit spraying whilst barking out orders; drone-like You get the wannabes *Prepping up as the popular chicks; total **** ups* And you get me With total judgement and disdain evident Making me a **classic ***** ; plastic With her typical high school stereotypes
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Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 5:35 AM UTC
High School
Take me to a pub So I can drink and get drunk Forget all my sorrows for five minutes And after the five minutes are gone I shall grab the phone And shout my anger with similes and curses And melancholic poetic verses Take to me to a pub. Take me to a pub So I can drink and get drunk Then drive my tombstone of a car And empty my rage in shifting gears Of crashing death A representation of the life Of advanced products of simple humans Dumb enough to die Take me to a pub Take me to a pub So that I can meet some girls And maybe go back with them home And smoke some **** And ashes Of the dead people of the past Which has now become a part of my mouth And in my mouth Mixed things With either a sharp taste Or a sharp color Or a sharp texture… Like multicolored knives entering my veins approaching my heart To rip it apart Take me to a pub… Take me to a pub Where I can die Under tables and cups And bartenders And miserable people trying to laugh With eyes that are not theirs And faces that are not faces Like animals unstrapped for one night And once they wake up the more impossible are the braces Shaped into bubbles that are suffocating With no hope for air That it becomes unfair Take me to a pub And then blame God For my torment and bad hangovers Saying why God!? Why did you let me go to a pub… And after I wake up for reason And logic, discover my flaws I go back to my illogical ways Because you are taking me to a pub Television takes me to a pub Politics takes me to a pub Consumerism takes me to a pub I feel like I’m the hot girl of the night Because everyone is taking me to a pub Grab some beer Some ***** Mojitos and some Absen Leave my mind unaware And my thought absent Take Me To A pub Now!
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Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 7:15 PM UTC
Take me to a pub now:
Take me to a pub So I can drink and get drunk Forget all my sorrows for five minutes And after the five minutes are gone I shall grab the phone And shout my anger with similes and curses And melancholic poetic verses Take to me to a pub. Take me to a pub So I can drink and get drunk Then drive my tombstone of a car And empty my rage in shifting gears Of crashing death A representation of the life Of advanced products of simple humans Dumb enough to die Take me to a pub Take me to a pub So that I can meet some girls And maybe go back with them home And smoke some **** And ashes Of the dead people of the past Which has now become a part of my mouth And in my mouth Mixed things With either a sharp taste Or a sharp color Or a sharp texture… Like multicolored knives entering my veins approaching my heart To rip it apart Take me to a pub… Take me to a pub Where I can die Under tables and cups And bartenders And miserable people trying to laugh With eyes that are not theirs And faces that are not faces Like animals unstrapped for one night And once they wake up the more impossible are the braces Shaped into bubbles that are suffocating With no hope for air That it becomes unfair Take me to a pub And then blame God For my torment and bad hangovers Saying why God!? Why did you let me go to a pub… And after I wake up for reason And logic, discover my flaws I go back to my illogical ways Because you are taking me to a pub Television takes me to a pub Politics takes me to a pub Consumerism takes me to a pub I feel like I’m the hot girl of the night Because everyone is taking me to a pub Grab some beer Some ***** Mojitos and some Absen Leave my mind unaware And my thought absent Take Me To A pub Now!
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67
You shouldn't kiss guardrails Because they have chapped lips And the jagged edges Will slice your tongue Whenever you touch them You shouldn't kiss guardrails Because metal on metal Isn't a forgiving sound But you already know that From when you had your first kiss And you were each wearing braces You shouldn't kiss telephone poles Because they are sensitive And will bite your lip with an electric current But not in the way that you were hoping And rear view mirrors aren't for decoration But you never bothered to look at them When you were desperately switching lanes And speedometers aren't for your entertainment But you always enjoyed watching the needle fluctuate As though your life depended on it (It did) And the high beams of oncoming cars Aren't Christmas lights in restaurant windows And crashing through the windshields Won't bring you any closer To the apple pie the bakery down the street made That always reminded you of home And even though you no longer recognize The town you grew up in Or the boy you fell in love with You shouldn't kiss guardrails Because they might kiss you back But not in the way that you were hoping.
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Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
You Shouldn't Kiss Guardrails
She bolts awake from nightmare’s fear Her mind fumbles for the mask Its visage calm, gaze cool and clear Once in place no one will ask Exhausted from her restless night Escape routes all slammed shut The knots already pulling tight Deep down inside her gut The enemy stand at their station They circle round her bed Anticipating her annihilation The demons in her head Her feet are not yet on the floor But the battle has begun Another endless day of war She must fight, she cannot run She glances quickly in the glass Haunted eyes she cannot meet The enemy charge takes the pass Her soul in forced retreat The mask will serve her well today Its rigid smile conceals The terror barely held at bay The torment that she feels She plants her banner on the mound Though hopelessness holds sway She grits her teeth and holds her ground But the ******** make her pay All day the battle rages on But the mask remains in place Though at her feet hell’s chasms yawn The world sees not a trace The conflict ebbs, her shoulders slump No victory is claimed She turns for home, trailing blood Count her among the maimed Return to camp yields no respite Command’s duties have no end Cares for her troops into the night Strength's last measure she will spend All her charges now in bed Mask in hidden place she keeps In resignation bows her head And midst the dark, in silence weeps Now when the camp lies silent In night’s hush no pennant streams She braces for coming violence And girds for bloodshed in her dreams
0
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 10:27 PM UTC
Endure
She bolts awake from nightmare’s fear Her mind fumbles for the mask Its visage calm, gaze cool and clear Once in place no one will ask Exhausted from her restless night Escape routes all slammed shut The knots already pulling tight Deep down inside her gut The enemy stand at their station They circle round her bed Anticipating her annihilation The demons in her head Her feet are not yet on the floor But the battle has begun Another endless day of war She must fight, she cannot run She glances quickly in the glass Haunted eyes she cannot meet The enemy charge takes the pass Her soul in forced retreat The mask will serve her well today Its rigid smile conceals The terror barely held at bay The torment that she feels She plants her banner on the mound Though hopelessness holds sway She grits her teeth and holds her ground But the ******** make her pay All day the battle rages on But the mask remains in place Though at her feet hell’s chasms yawn The world sees not a trace The conflict ebbs, her shoulders slump No victory is claimed She turns for home, trailing blood Count her among the maimed Return to camp yields no respite Command’s duties have no end Cares for her troops into the night Strength's last measure she will spend All her charges now in bed Mask in hidden place she keeps In resignation bows her head And midst the dark, in silence weeps Now when the camp lies silent In night’s hush no pennant streams She braces for coming violence And girds for bloodshed in her dreams
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48
A boy in jeans, A boy in trousers, A boy in braces, A boy in blouses, A girl who smells like summer sweat, A girl whose makeup hasn’t set, A boy who swears, A boy who doesn’t, A girl’s shoulder, A second cousin, A girl who smells of **** and beer, A tattooed boy with a silver sneer, A skinny girl who’s got T.B, A boy who daintily sips his tea, A girl’s left leg – bare or stockinged, A boy so cold his knees are knocking, A nasty **** A suede-head killer, Kate Moss, Sienna Miller, Vivienne Westwood’s crazy teeth, Bow-legged loons on Hampstead Heath, Blue eyes, brown eyes, grey eyes, green, Cold eyes, big eyes, sad eyes, mean, Darling sweethearts in flirty skirts, City-Boy ******** in well-pressed shirts, Elbows, throat, wrists, knees, A consumptive girl’s chainsmoking wheeze, Blonde girls with their hair in plaits, Skinny boys, short boys, muscular, fat – Girls with pink lipstick like strawberry frosting, I’m telling you man, It’s ******* exhausting.
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Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 8:16 PM UTC
things I find attractive
Grown Up "Cool Kids" Nowadays cool kids are wearing business Suits and  ties all the boring time, Nowadays cool kids are chewing tobacco Drinking Budweiser AND wine, Nowadays cool kids are driving break neck Speed to get to everyday places, Nowadays cool kids are going to war and Using bombs to "save us," Nowadays cool kids are paying $6,000 for The cheapest pair of braces, So this is what being "cool" is all about? And this is what makes America so proud? Where I come from being cool is being wise, Staying clean and sober, honest girls and guys, Who don't have to hurt their health Just to have a really good time.
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Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 5:30 PM UTC
Cool Kids
I have braces on more than just my teeth. The only difference is that they won't be coming off once things straighten out.
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
crooked
Me without you is like, A sneaker without laces. A geek without braces. Asentencewithoutspaces.
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Jan 21, 2011
Jan 21, 2011 at 11:55 AM UTC
Me without You!