Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ˏˋDalPalˊˎ Apr 2017
The other day I stuck my finger in the electrical socket, just to get one ounce of the spark you gave me with your touch. My finger tingled for an hour but it didn't give me my fix.

This morning I cried so hard that my room became the sea. I sailed away on my bed and promised to never go back to the person I was yesterday.

Last week I snuck up a building downtown just to have the feeling for a split second that I had made it to the top. I laid on my back and tried to grab the stars; "the most beautiful things just out of reach" you told me once.

This afternoon I went on a drive to clear my mind. On accident I turned in the wrong direction, but I wasn't apposed of going all around the world to get to where I was going.

Last month I threw out everything in my room hoping that clearing it would also clear my mind. I found the card you gave me years ago and slipped it under my bed. I obviously missed the purpose.

Tonight I sat outside the loneliest gas station in the world. I watched the flourescent lights flicker on and off. I figured it was counting the seconds it took for me to realize that you're not with me this time to walk out with two slushy's and a deep breath saying "you're going to be somebody".

Last year you told me that you loved me. I felt my heart fill up with every single butterfly on earth. Even when I felt my emotions could bend the universe, I didn't say it back.

Right now I'm sitting at our bench on Main st. Every car that passes by I think "that could be the person to put my pieces back together" after you broke me. I came to the conclusion that maybe the  only person to fix me is myself.
just a set of short little poems. my heart is feeling very heavy today which i guess is good because now I'm back here but I was hoping to not feel like this again... I wish I could just move on from everyone that did me wrong. while most of this is fictitious, it is true that i am not moved on, and you are. i am a little broken and i cannot keep thinking about you if i want to fully move on. A lot of my poems have always been about you but I don't want you to be my sad motivation anymore. this is the last poem I will write about you. ever.
Ayush Gangwar Aug 2018
When you travel in the car and the journey is too far...
Fill the cabinet with all the required stuffs,
It will be more exciting when you travel with a group.
Raise the woofers up ,
And eat the tasty stuffs.
Just Play the jolly tune,
It'll make your lazy mood.
When you see something unique,
Stop a while and take a click.
Still the destination is too far,
You're feeling tired and so is your car…

It’s time for a short break,
stretch your body and take a breathe,

When your body gets re-energised,
It’s tym to resume your lovely drive,
Destination is not always necessary to take,
Sometimes the road trip is what we want to make…
Because most of the time you'll spend ib travelling so just make each and ever drive beautiful and memorable. Because YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE.
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
We're awakened to our insatiable longing for heaven
through both beauty and the painful marring of it.
For beauty hints to us of that for which we are truly made,
and its marring shouts that we are truly not meant to find it here.

We can be eternally grateful for beauty lost when we realize
that it's one of the great secret-tellers of the universe.
Still we fear it so and often fear even to hope for the beauty itself,
though they are a necessary cycle that fuels us on and drives us home.

We cannot deny or diminish our intense longing for beauty--
to see it and have it and be it, and we cannot pretend that its
dreadful loss does not press down upon us like a crushing weight.
We must let it crush us until our ache for heaven is excruciating.
Nobody Feb 2018
It’s the name of the game,
slaves to our secret place.
Even if we discreetly meet,
since we hate being apart;  
safe and sound with you baby,
all I need is your sweet heart.
Our secrets intertwined,
we play and tease and test,
till the tension simmers up inside.
We form an explosion of emotions,
as powerful as the windiest storm;
but we only see each others eyes,
lying ***** on the floor.
And when I said
“No I love you more”
you melt and slam the door.
Gently kiss my hair,
and nibble on my neck.
Caress me everywhere,
till I softly moan in your mouth;
and it drives you wild,
so you quickly go down.
Kiss my legs, then my thighs.
As my whole body shakes,
you **** on my every curve.
I pant louder and louder,
then scream “please don’t stop”;
but you want me so bad.
Oh and you are rock hard,
so you slip right inside;
and we make passionate love in the dark.
English Jam May 2018
Boredom on a Sunday is inescapable
I try to hide it behind playing my musical instrument
Trumpeting with my trumpet - blowing my own horn -
I'm praying no one interprets that last sentence as an innuendo
Anyway, I'm nodding off, signing out of reality
The world goes hazy in a second
And I'm ****** into the vortex of a dream

Weird how when a dream begins, we immediately understand the situation
For this scene, I'm spewing blood from my spleen like a bottle of sauce squeezed too hard
It stains the leather of my vehicle
My foot is pressing the pedal to the floor, and the speedometer is twinged in half from all the pressure
The monolith of a highway I'm speeding on shakes as though giants stomp upon it
And the wail of a siren drives me into a frenzy as I try to escape the inevitable
Their polychromatic lights dance at the edges of my eyes, spurring rhythm into action
Even though they must be aeons behind, my heart melodramatically pumps in my chest as though the police are in the backseat
Blood bursting through my temple, thoughts wheezing by like someone's let go of hundreds of balloons  
Up ahead, the road twists itself into a knot of nothingness
My hands are wrapped around the steering wheel so tightly, I fear I might never be able to release them
It's a slight movement: right hand goes down, left goes up, but it kicks the vehicle sideways
My body slams into the car with a satisfying crunch and my mind spirals to spaghetti strands
Oddly enough, the world becomes rinsed with blue wash and I'm underwater

My train of thought becomes peaceful, melodic
I float about, running on the inverse of the waves
Here, even a scream is joyous as it sounds all bubbly and childish
Suddenly, a red streak runs across the ocean, chilling me to the bone and erasing all my bubbles
The sea becomes glittered with red and blue streaks, a warning
Bullets stab at my spleen, reminding me of the pain that was, and still is
And my body gears into a full 360, concluding my return to the real world
Or is it the dream world?
Oh well
Either way, I'm back in my car
Carelessly freefalling from nowhere
Weapons, glass, blood droplets, pocket change, pedestrians...all breeze around slowly
Pleading with me to wake up
Then

Everything crumbles, and I smack my **** head against the window, splattering my brains everywhere
My car flew from the sudden turn and I crashed, I think
Now I lay, grasping onto consciousness while pedagogues staple me to the ground
The Lawman towers over me, grinning madly at my defeat
The most barbaric insult, however, comes from the radio, still magically working
"I fought the law and the law won," The Clash idly sing
One of my favourite songs turned into dark irony
The last I remember before blacking out is the scarlet and marine lights clashing forevermore

When I wake up, I'm face-down on the stony and icy floor
The cold burns me enough to wake me from la la land
The iron grip of the handcuffs feels very real
Words are forced into my head, not by my own design, but sort of like they've been placed there
An argument as to whether existence has a meaning is taking place in my head, and I can't stop it
Sort of like how in a dream, you can't control your thoughts or actions
Wait
This is still a dream, right?
Right?
Ashley Chapman Sep 2017
Sandwiched in layers of liquid crystal display,
Encased in vats of plastic,
                          
                            we
Voyaging in data-spheres, plumes of digital play.

Mindless,
         In the soup of silicone,
                            
                            all
Myt­h-makers,
         Pouring over electro-spawned
         networks,
                            
                            fall
Workers,
          In the buzz of bits and bytes, of
          megabytes and terabytes,
                            
                            down
Everyone
          Far from the wood, the brine, the
          mud that caked us,
          In tighter and tighter
          digitised  projections,
                            
                            click!
‘Like me’,
‘Share me’,
‘Leave your comments.’

Messages smoothed out in polymers,
Beyond reproductions of ourselves,

                           enter:

Deeper, delving in the mire of dream-conscious,

Now a waking voice,
          Hardened, digitised, recorded in
          bubbles, in drives, in clouds:
                        
Numb numbers of numbers numb,
                          mirror.

          A platform slotted home:
The motherboard!
          To record the echo in the hollow
          of our Being.
Wrote this a while back. It was published in The Tunnel Magazine, which was great. Anyway, hope it gets a wider audience.
thomas Dec 2018
Night driving, ethereal
experiences that seem to
be unrelated to time and space.
I feel they're transcendental.

As the holiday lights float past,
the world seems to shift.
Even though the clock ticks,
the drive is eternal.

Laughing, crying,
heartache, heartbreak:
all stemming from one drive.
I can still see the streetlamps.

They hang, ghostly and far above,
lighting the road as
I drive through town.
The wind is bitter cold on our cheeks.
Umi Mar 2018
Of ones heart with shadows lurking to take over spite is made precious to be felt exciting while it is in fact trecious, but a sleeping terror awakens at times as well, thus a rampage is made amongst it,
A thrill wandering down your spine when you wrong someone and see them tremble through your actions a cold shiver followed by spite
Choosing a carefree life, yet unable to hide the fact that no spark would be able to illuminate whats in your dark, where angels fear to tread, only to explore this loitering abyss within you for some time,
All this blood **** must bring you to insanity, make you a lunatic,
But let it happen, in this emotionless shell it's what feels majestic,
The storm raging inside, waiting to feed on this caused chaos,
Evil and vile, heartless not carrying a smile while mercilessly continuing this riot of a resented soul waiting, longing for destruction
Feeling alike to be burning up, priceless about this act of cruelty until the wanted realisation drives its way into your soul and you question yourself what you have done, or why you have done it for anyway,
But the time will come again for sure, so be ready for it to arrive
When the sleeping terror awakens for another dance

~ Umi
s Sep 2017
you are in every daydream
every nightmare
and you've got me feeling conflicted
(could things have been different?)

part of me didn't want to leave
(maybe all of me didn't want to leave)

we were
more than this
(something more)

you can drive all night
(all night)
(searching)

i still see you in your
lightless eyes
in every
sleepless drive
(i wanted something more)
laura Apr 2018
i remember
gettin' kinkykinky in the backseat
while your friend drives
illumined shoulderblades in the dimmers
your step daddy doesn't have much
say in us running away since you're 18

your mommy never loved me
and how i don't normally fit in things

told me you'd be going to school
in Kirtland, but i'm missing out
on how thick you're getting
for the waving tiers of succulence
belting in your stomach
profusion of feelings confusing your tongue
Ashley Chapman Jun 2018
We fall,
and hard,
and in the shadows,
***** ourselves on snags,
that tear our clothes;
grazed and cut,
we stagger on -
Impressions, ideas, fancies!
Of these have we been disabused.

But is this spring,
come again?

Lovely,
yesterday,
in the bright sunlight,
to see you,
felt green hat in among the photo clouds,
apple suedes on the gallery's damp floor.

Melvyn,  
and I,
merrily circling with you the light cloud images,
my nostrils full of pollen spikes.
The pictures:
wisps of trailing dreams churning in ‘scapes of infinite blue;
dark clouds,
in amongst them,
too.

Photographs in two time places
caught;
at once, all:
the other and t'other.

So excitement swells,
and everything besides us quells,
because the knowing of itself,
knows,
and dares beyond the frames;
to skirt knowingly the unsaid;
to want beyond the wounded past,
to pull things,
once again,
inside out.

In whimsy’s currents flow these thoughts,
these feelings,
these drives;
eddies swirling in these waters,
so that as you sit,
on a summer’s day,
it moves,
a mirror to everything above.

The wavelets on the surface,
hammered into shape,
burn, bite and dazzle;
the sun’s flames leaping and dancing on the ripples.

In the basement,
on the concrete floor,
your Y proneness shifts,
releasing knees on black-clad thighs;
two pendulums swinging,
brushing;
yawing metronomes in the cool,
coolness of my desultory thoughts.

Oh, what am I saying?
Feelings like reveries walk along these silver lips straying langerously.
These myths are too soon made,
carried one to the next,
one-on-one,
until contained no longer,
become new truths.
Visited an East End London picture gallery with a friend. Later, she texted me and said she had been called a *****, and I said, we're all that, too. Then I wanted to defend her by describing the intoxicting effect of her connection with me: her beauty.
Proving myself worthy,
has been futile.
You still see me as flawed,
I am real

My love is honest,
not just a word.
Not just an emotion,
Love is real

New safety nets are up,
fear of more rejection.
Time to part ways,
Loneliness is real.

Time is short,
so many distractions.
Struggle to stay focused,
Pain is real.

What drives me to keep living?
How long will it save me?
I want to keep loving you,
Be loved by you.
Real
March 23, 2015
I smoked ***** with friends last night
'cause I can't relax, need
a reason to session
after attenuating those drives.

Dark as it seems, this
functional human being
continue to search for signs
of life.  Is it the good fight, or

is it the lengthy flight?
I coined the word apotheogen
to define substances which
are more likely to act
as a catalyst for addiction.
Aztec Cathrine Feb 2018
I want to know when you look at me you see my personality. I dont want it if its fake. I just letting you know. This superficial love thing got me going crazy. I you want me then you better keep. Cuz I'm so done. People like me cuz they think I'm all what I look like. They never like my personality they like me for my clothes and they like me for my looks but, I'm so done. They never really want me they never really to keep me. This superficial love thing got me going crazy. Baby if you want me you better treat me like your everything. My personality drives them away all the time. I just wanna know whats your though of me. I can see you in my dreams but, I just wanna see you in my heart and on my mind. My personality got one going crazy. Maybe hes the one or is it just for fun. But hes so sweet and hes so kind. I see him in my heart and on my mind. He loves me for myself. He loves my personality.
Hope you guys like it.
Gala Aug 2018
Behind the wheel
I remember how you loved
Our long drives
Though winding streets
Going down those hills

I miss the days
Playing in the white sand
Watching the pink hues
As we lay next to each other
Forgetting our blues

We used to talk
For hours
Non-stop
About our dreams
And our hopes

Wishing to connect
Going deeper
We would forget
That we were beaten
At our own game
Traveler Jan 2015
Beneath the surface darkness dwells
Upon the earth where false gods fell

Behind strange eyes still it shows
Warmth and kindness or wicked soul

Guilt and pain drives down deep
Piles of issues forged to keep

'Til that special day our world explode
And upon our hearts hate takes its toll...
Traveler Tim
Empiricprotagon Apr 2017
Instead of being charming,
You drown me to your quietness.
Your calmness bending my ticking-clock to stop,
expanding time to feel me the euphoria.
I like how you did everything,
every move you made drives me to satisfaction.
I didn't know the purpose of this feeling,
and didn't want to.
Jordan Rowan May 2016
He tosses in his sleep
He never gets a good night's rest
He tosses in his sleep
He never gets a good night's rest
His mind is tired but can't control what's in his chest

She tosses in her sleep
Dreaming of a better place
She tosses in her sleep
Dreaming of a better place
She gave up looking and now she's got tears on her face

He wears a cigarette
She wears a bayonet
He drives a beater and she drives a swift Corvette
He's not a cheater and she's one he won't forget

He's got a plan
But doesn't know how to start
He's got a plan
But doesn't know how to start
He's too young to understand the language of his heart

She's got a picture  
But hasn't developed it yet  
She's got a picture
But hasn't developed it yet
All she sees is a silent silhouette

He wears a cigarette
She wears a bayonet
He drives a beater and she drives a swift Corvette
He's not a cheater and she's one he won't forget

He wrote his name and number
On the missionary of his hotel
He wrote his name and number
On the missionary of his hotel
As he laid it down he felt his heart begin to swell

She called him up
And they talked over a drink or two
She called him up
And they talked over a drink or two
Now all their reservations are made for two
Next page