"darla" poems
Helpful.
Holding Hands.
Chatting over email.
Have a lot of fun.
Always there for each other.
Go getting manicures with each other.
Playing soccer and kickball with my friends.
We got to the movies,mall,and restaurants together.
Bella, Jenna, Darla, Saanvi, Rebecca,
Caitlin, Isabella, Thalia, Laxmi, Sophia.
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 6:39 PM UTC
She was kind of a mean girl
But I still loved her
Such a free spirt
Didn't give a **** in the world
She sang when she felt broken
Her body moved so gracefully when she had a good day
(Which was rare)
Yet the sound of her voice could make anyone fall in love
I sure did.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 1:56 AM UTC
I appreciate your compassion. I recognize your desire to love and your joy in others' company. I notice your childish ways and your faith in love. I know that you live to be loved.
I once longed for you. I had no other desire above you than to absorb you completely. Feel your energy race through every synapse in my body and embrace you within every fiber of my body. There was once a time that I envied you. I envied you for remaining hopeful in the idea of love and being able to shut yourself away from the darkness that was once me. You found a safe hiding place inside of me that sheltered you from the storm for so long. And then there was light. And so you rose. You blossomed through me like a beautiful rose garden and shared your smile. You made me smile. You made me view the world differently and most of all you let love.
But your time has passed. I'd rather be alone. I wish for you to leave. Permanently. Pack what little remains of you and move out. There is no more room for you here. At this point I just wish for silence. You've brought many happy memories but you've also brought so much heart break.
Please understand, I am most grateful for the light that you have shown. And even though I ask for you to leave, does not mean someone else won't find value in you. Someone out there needs you; it just isn't me anymore.
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 10:41 PM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Sing songs to you like I used to,
Frank ocean impersonations,
You use to bring me gold and silver virtues,
I was your sensation,
And your satisfaction,
And your pleasure as well,
She laid roses on the coffin in the fires of hell,
I use to lay next to you on the way to your house,
Slowly tilting in your bed,
I'd never sit in the living room on the couch,
Kisses on my neck,
when you needed to,
I used to say,
darla,
I cherish you,
If anything I wanna marry you,
And take you on expensive trips,
And lay you down in queen size beds,
And take you virginity away from you,
I needed you like bonnie,
I hope you get it,
My bones and my flesh and soul,
Could hardly bare to take it,
Were all grown up now,
So where's your confidence boo,
Were all grown up now,
So where's your confidence boo,
Were all grown up now,
So where's your confidence boo,
Saved up on a lot for leggings and shoes,
She said just to impress you,
Not knowing if you'd take me back,
I don't mean to intrude,
Retaliation left a mark on my back,
I remember you were rude,
If Ignorance is bliss,
Then shouldn't love be (evol),
And if you let me explain,
Then you know this is a sequel.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 12:40 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Physically, metaphorically, and emotionally,
You capture me,
Miss Darla,
My friends use to call you starla,
Cause you did shine,
Didn't waste any time,
I pity the next fool that hurts you,
Desperate for your love,
Black roses in the rivers is what your thinking of,
Oh I see,
I flow potent,
To keep the Demons from sneaking into the gate,
As beautiful as you are,
Never cared about the warm embrace of death,
Running your mouth,
When your drunk,
When your friends take you out,
Subsequently induced to your alcoholic lips on my skin,
Light side when your sober but dark side when you sin,
I still love you Darla,
You know that,
I hope you do,
Let the angels carry you,
And see that things are not totally true.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 8:54 PM UTC
the person you are
and the person you want to become
bear the same roots.
you are already her,
you just haven't learned how to be.
putting yourself back together is treacherous,
but you don't have to do it alone.
your very existence is rooted in worth:
the 12 percent of carbon in your body
is the same carbon that creates diamonds under pressure.
the .2 milligrams of gold in your blood
is the same gold people spend a lifetime trying to earn,
and having you in my life makes me richer
than I'd ever be with money.
broken is not synonymous with useless.
no matter how many pieces
make up a mosaic,
it will still reflect light.
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 1:33 PM UTC
Recollecting memoir of a more pleasant time
The old man vague
Bottle or flask
deceive or mislead they do the same
dolorous darla,
she weeps a wistful whimper
Old crows hitch the feeble matron seems to be attentive
assisting with her dollar bills and *****
white horse
cheap wine
time to portray the role as nix bedrock
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 10:47 AM UTC
*The innocence that remains inside of me
Darla, is what her name shall be
Running through the forest as if she were free
Wearing an old fashioned white dress with scrapes on her knees
The lightest shade of blonde hair that you ever did see
Dirt on her hands while her seat for supper remains empty
Darla, oh Darla, where might you be...
Chasing the butterflies and buzzing with the bees
Napping in the meadow is where you may find thee
Dreaming of Darla, she and I are dancing
Away with each other, where I wish I could be her and she wishes she were me.*
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 11:01 PM UTC
I tried to not take us
so seriously because
in the wake of a long
stream of non-commital
commitments, I've
begun to understand
how intense I become
when someone matters
to me on a personal level,
that's why I left you alone
when I found out about Marla
and Darla and Carla and all
of the Lala's that you ******
and then you decided to be
different for a day (let's be honest.
more like five minutes tops)
and you found yourself
with the proud and loud
feminist, Mandie with *an
i-e* in your bed and I keep
telling myself, *it's not the
feminists fault that she likes
men. This man. My man.*
And so I decided un-invite you
to the party I'll be throwing
for you in honor of you
being accepted into so and so
acting program in the city.
I'll drink everything they
bring for you, **** everyone
that only loves you. I'll
leave your car beneath
some distant bridge,
**** your boss and
and take me a little more.
It's not your fault I didn't
take us seriously.
It's not your fault
the feminist liked
you more than me.
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
I wrote of Demond's that invaded me. Demond's that corresponded with my brain and danced with my soul. Demond's that abducted my heart and blinded my eyes.
I wrote of Darla, my idealistic alter ego. The one who dreams of romance and treads passionately towards it. The other girl inside of me who forgives and cries without remorse or regret.
I wrote of heartbreak and abuse from past lovers. The torment of a fractured heart and the loneliness that was left. The neglect from my childhood and the pains of independence. The confusion of men and the unanswered question of "How will I ever heal".
I wrote of my habitual infidelity and thirst for love. My attraction to danger and lust for something more. My deepest desires and most remembered experiences. My darkest fantasies mixed with a little chaos.
In all of this, I still feel the need to say more. Somewhere deep inside I crave to tell the world what's on my mind and written in my heart. Even in knowing I'll never say it all, I will always try.
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 5:16 PM UTC