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Unrequited Love Nov 2015
He made sure to show I belonged to him.
And of course his trade mark,
was a bruise.
Cydney Something Dec 2018
I collapsed the seats of my Rav4
You watched my *** the whole time
And saw an opportunity
As I bent over between the front seats
One, two, then three fingers
While fumbling to turn off the hazards
Biting a seat to keep quiet
Accidentally turned the music back on
"Stay In My Memory" by Bim
The song from Him
**** him, I'll ******* instead
The hazards were off
The music still on
Your fingers making my body quake
From the inside
Twice
Strong enough to throw me around
Like I was someone cuter and smaller
And put me on my back
With a hand around my throat
Kissing at me like a dog
Making me submit like a *****
Three, four, five
"On your knees"
And you threw me there, too
Six
Around we spun
Getting rug burn
Lost count of the quakes
They started to blend
With the aftershocks
"Are marks okay?"
And then you left one
A hickey on a weeknight
And a Monday, no less
Next time, we need a bed
Rug burn is a *****
Isobel Leslie Apr 2014
You called it a love bite
Like the word hickey would burn in your mouth
and strip away the taste of her still on your lips

You called it a love bite
Because hickey sounded like troubled teens
and stained sheets

You called it a love bite
Because her perfume still stuck to your shirt
and you didn't want to take it off

You called it a love bite
because you loved her
But you knew she called it a hickey
and nothing more.
Let him go. Just because he loves you doesn't mean you own him. Let him go.
liza Apr 2014
i have never been kissed
but my friend told me about hers
she's grounded
because he left a hickey
and i don't even know his name but i know what he tastes like
because she's just so **** happy that she's finally had her first kiss
and another friend was talking about kissing her other friend
she's my friend too, i guess
but they're girls, and i have no problem with that
honestly
but they're not even gay
and they're kissing just for fun
on a dare
and i know that i could never even pay someone to kiss me
because i know what i am
and that is not romantic
i know that i am  a monster with a crooked back
and a sad smile
who laughs like a kraken at terrible jokes
and rude towards people
and tries to fit in just a little bit more
and i know that i could never even pay someone to kiss me
because i don't even know the first thing about it
and i don't even know what's happening around me
but i only care about a kiss
and that's really not the best thing for the world
but to me it matters
is it supposed to matter so much?
Shel Oct 2015
Purple was the color of the shirt you wore when we first met
Purple was the color of the flowers you brought for me on our first date
Purple was the color of the sky when we first kissed
Purple was the color ink you used when you wrote me love letters every week
Purple was the color of the hickey on my neck
Purple was the color of my dress and your tie at our first school dance

Purple was the color you left my skin after our first fight
Purple was the color of hand prints around my thigh, on my back, neck, stomach
Purple is the color shirts I started wearing,
hoping we could go back to the first day we met,
when you wore

a purple shirt
M Catherine Nov 2015
They feel like breathing
For the very first time
And the only thing I can gasp
is your name and I'm
finally pretty **** close
to feeling happy, maybe free
It doesn't matter if people
stare and laugh because I'll be
In different mindset
High in those clouds
That smell of your jacket
and the echo of your name loud.
They squeal when they do the math
put two and two together
They spit out my name like
disbelief, but there are worse to weather.
Clothes pulled and coats cover
The prints I'll never explain
to my parents, for they'd not understand
How much I crave for you again and again
They call you the pervert, the gross one
obsessed with the next hookup
But it's really mostly me
whose *** drive will really drub.
M.C.M
Ashley Nicole Nov 2014
Leave a mark
So I know I wasn't just dreaming
David Nelson Mar 2014
The Milkman Cometh

It could be Margie or it could be Pearl
bringing us our refreshment we trust
though we are all old dead beat boozers
we still enjoy sweet cookies dunked in lust  

we waited for Hickey for as long as we could
to get this party off with a bang
but we've waited long enough I say
time for a grand toast gosh dang

Rocky gave us the okay to get started
but he asked us to leave Cora alone
she was busy baking a surprise cake
for the captain who was finally coming home

Hickey finally shows but wont raise his glass
says he sees better now that he's sober
but he couldn't take the kiss from her lips
and quickly began to disrobe her

got milk they all yelled as the night wore on
the police finally shut it all down
the chocolate had been spilled everywhere
the news was all over the town
  
Gomer LePoet....
Jade Musso Apr 2014
Two bottles of Southern Comfort, Black Keys on iTunes, profile picture with sister, stir-fry, 30 Rock, Gorillaz poster, pancakes at 3 am, spontaneous lunch at Barone, friends with benefits, need a hug, Columbus Day, touch my ****, too much tongue, crumpled into wall in the morning, Urban Outfitters for a t-shirt, silver medal, free Dominos, Workaholics at 12, secret sleepover #2, ******* because i thought that's all he wanted from me and i wanted him to stay, hickey on my neck, studying in a room with the round table, drew a horse on the whiteboard, fill out a police report, Redgates from Firehouse, he looks cute today. Tackled into metal, did I break my back? Jump on it, it's not funny, I'm crying, cold beer, kiss on the porch, stop kissing me in 12, *******, more kissing, blood everywhere, come over, comb through hair. you can stay over again, skips class, uses my shower, makes the bed, come with me to doctor. Vermont secret, Batmobile, on Prius, dune buggies, Phantom Menace, brother-in-law, supermarket in Newfane, stir-fry, statement at 6am. Hurricane, in my basement, halloween at the fire station, knitted scarf headpiece, mother's phone number, red gate sandwiches by Citi Bank across from library. Confirmation party, Chartruese, Coldplay at Mohegan, Torches, enchiladas, screaming, stuffed wolf, comic book finishing touches at 1 am, new roommates, L.O.L., I was going to propose to you - in the hallway, 3 month long orchids, Vermont trip #2, no riding allowed, nap by the fire, bare butts touching over unscented blanket, sapphire ring too big under lamppost in parking lot, happy. Sarasota, hide my eyes with Mosley Tribes, take a walk without me, Game of Thrones, cold sand, hair dryer joke, need eye drops, Ringling Mansion, gator bites, silent walk by traffic, kayak in shallow water, families too different, bike ride to tune of Star Wars, nervous about the summer, panic into shoulder on flight home. ******* in the middle of the night, drive around campus, leave me alone, pack up N-64 games, fight before final presentation - only one group gets an A, instant milkshake and magazines to pass the time, make a pizza, here let's make out again - apparently that isn't so bad, almost forgot my friesian mug and vase by the trailer. Texting *****, sick stomach, Lord of the Rings, try smoking, Magic: The Gathering, first communion, wedding, Chip's Family restaurant, high school graduation that I couldn't sit at, Miya's with the mini *****. Fireworks on hill through trees. Retna laptop with blue cover, HGTV's Next Design Star, I have to leave. this is where I stop.
Sam Conrad Dec 2013
So I've got this story...
And it goes a little something like this-

There's a girl that I hurt really bad on way too many occasions that I love more than anything. Pretty much everything I write on here is about her. She became the love of my life, and I told myself she was the one I wanted to spend my life with. Except I was a ****. She was going somewhere to an event that lasted 2 weeks and was really important to her and let's just say I ****** it all up really really bad. She made a lot of friends there and it was a great experience for her, kind of like camp is for some people, how boy/girl scouts are for some people, and she learned a lot there, and had lots of fun too. I was so horrible to do what I did.

At least we're young though, and there's still time to grow...right? I'm only 18, she's almost 18, and we both have lives to live ahead of us. I feel like I need her though. She treated me perfectly in our relationship. I mean, looking back, there's nothing I can fault her for, at all. I just got ****** at stupid crap that doesn't even matter.

Except, she's into somebody else now and probably thinks I'm no good for her. She doesn't talk to me anymore. Anyway, I'm rambling, I haven't gone to bed, I took a bunch of pills, am getting sick, and it's 7 AM...so here goes. This story is somewhat censored, though.

_________________­___________
"The Worst Weeks of Our Lives"

I met this girl and she became the love of my life. She took me places I'd never gone before and her and I fell in love like some people wouldn't believe. Ask my friends. Ask her friends. No, her friends probably wouldn't admit to it anymore. But I choose to remember the things they said. Kids were like totally rooting for us all day every day. We were so perfect. It was great.

So with a few mistakes here and there, (mostly me...all me, really) we realized we weren't perfect. But it didn't hamper out love. Nobody is perfect, right? We realized that. Overcame.

But then, we went too far. Her parents drew lines we weren't supposed to cross. Oopsies. Her mom really put me in my place. I'll just leave it at that. Asked me when my 18th birthday was, so she could mark her calendar as the "day she could touch me". Told me I was a liar. Husband in the background drunk and screaming, as usual. Except screaming "that ***** ain't sorry. He ain't ******* sorry, ******* ******* marking up my ******* daughter I can show him how to be ******* sorry"

Lots more. I'll go crazy if I speak the rest. It was a hickey on her neck. We didn't do much more.

I got really scared. I mean, they were brutal. I wasn't used to that kind of brutal. Psychotic levels of brutal. All of the sudden I became numb. I stopped being so intimate with my girlfriend. They told me not to come around their house anymore. I started doubting myself. If I was any good for her. She cried and cried. Told me how sorry she was. For getting us in trouble, and for what her parents did. But it wasn't her fault. After all, I am the vampire that bit her neck.

After a few weeks, her parents dropped it completely. I didn't though. I was so traumatized. I'd been getting flashbacks. Nightmares. So scared, I was. I kept avoiding her, not only her parents. I mean, I didn't have a car anyways, so the only place I could go to see her was at her house. She reassured me I was allowed. But with no contact with her parents since the phone call that changed my life I was reluctant.

This was around 2 months before she was going to go to a 2 week event. A special event to her. One I'd even wished I'd gotten involved in. Really, I did wish. I just missed the application deadline. Throughout the next two months, we grew more and more distant. I was harsh on her. I hurt her. I'd get mad at her and then call her and talk to her until 3 in the morning. I made her hate herself, and then she felt bad about me feeling sorry too. "You always force yourself to be nice to me just so I feel better, but I'm ****, I'm trash, I'm nothing, I'm so sorry" she would say. Most of the time, she didn't even do anything wrong. One of my best friends died at the same time her parents killed me inside, I spent all my days sleeping and crying and when I wasn't doing that, I was getting angry at her (and quickly regretting it), manufacturing conflicts that were completely unnecessary. Not to mention I'd had health issues, and my parents kicked me out of my house a few months beforehand.

In the time before she left to her special event, I really tore her up. I said the dumbest things I've ever said to someone in my life. I'd never even said such dumb things to even an object, or myself. Why I would say them to a girl who saved me from suicide (I was very unstable and depressed when coming out of a bad relationship, and getting kicked out of home) and why I said it all to someone I wanted to spend my life with I'll never know.

The dumbest things I'll ever say to anything that breathes in my lifetime. I told her one night that the "only reason I was still with her was because if I left she'd hurt herself" (she had a history of self harm, even though she's the sweetest girl I've ever met) and another night I told her "If only she were going somewhere important I'd understand" and lots of other insensitive and selfish things that I can't even believe came out of my mouth. I mean, the whole basis of it was that her and I hadn't spent much time together (really because of my own selfish fears) and I was going all *** on her testosterone-fueled-rage style for days over and over and over.

Don't I sound like a horrible person? I was. I was horrible to her. As much as I hate to say it, I'll probably make similar mistakes again someday - It's like relapsing - but I'll make every effort I can to learn from my horrible past and never be that person again.

So when she went to the event, I was with my grandparents out of state and I downloaded my favorite sad playlist (Staind, great band) to listen to on the trip.

Yes, seriously. I told her that stuff and called her event unimportant and then I went away too. How stupid I was for what I said. I should have been slapped or something.

A day or two after I'd left, I realized how stupid it was of me. For the whole thing. That whole time. That whole span, those two months where I not only neglected her, but emotionally ****** her.

There's a song called "Tangled Up In You" that has the most wonderful and intimate lyrics and I listened to it and sung to it over and over and over late into the morning (I'm talking 3-4 in the morning) every night for like 10 days and along with a song called "Right Here" by the same band. I cried myself to sleep so extremely ashamed of what I'd just done to her.

I knew I was wrong, but what I didn't know was that she was crying her eyes out wrapped up in (someone else)'s arms at that event...
I didn't know she was getting all kinds of love and support.
I had no idea...not that it was bad, it was good because she needed it.

But it got her to thinking about me, what kind of person I was.
When we both got back, I started making more of an effort to spend time with her and go out of my way to talk to her, make her happy, and basically, stop being such a ****.
Except she just got confused and conflicted because she was numb and falling out of love, because I was nothing that anyone should love, to her, over that prior time.

Her mom broke us up about a month later, after some...you know what, I'll just leave that bit out...
I told you how the first phone call went. The phone calls I got from her and her husband in the end were just so much worse. I don't even want to think about them. I went into convulsions and kept dropping the phone.

I went back to these two songs to help keep my sanity and I belted out "Tangled Up In You" every day in my car... so loud I was losing my voice.

I'd had some communication with her, surprised her at her work one night, bought her flowers, wrote her my true feelings on some napkins, showed up when she got out of school one day, when she was deathly afraid, and surprised her with a smile and drew a heart on her hand...

Her and I were on the same page. She still loved me. She was just hurt. I still loved her. I was just trying to make up for the compromised mental state I spent so much time in. I had compromised hers too. I needed to get her out of it. She told me she would wait for me. That we were in a speed bump, that it would all be okay.

So some weeks passed, a month, and she still had my back. As strong as ever. Her parents found out I bought the flowers. They found out I'd been talking to her. But...

Knowing she still had my back, that she still loved me, and that she would wait for me...she called what her mom did (in breaking us up, in our break) a "speed bump"...I was okay with it. I mean, I really wanted to be a part of her life, but man, her parents HATED ME! (In retrospect, probably with good reason. Shame on me for the things I did to her. Really.)

We had some major issues (mostly due to my inability to shut my stupid mouth) and I decided that maybe some time to ourselves to focus on ourselves and think was a good thing. She could focus on loving herself again and I could focus on becoming a better person.

I mean, when her parents found out her and I were still talking to each other after they broke us up, they blocked my number on her phone, went to my church and made up extra stories to my pastor, (told him I'd came and banged on their door at one in the morning one night), when I called to apologize to them they didn't pick up, called me back later to cuss me out and hang up on me, logged into their daughters facebook account and blocked me, then told their daughter that I had called them when she was sleeping and cussed them both out, and that she was to have nothing to do with me again. They threatened legal action against me, too. Tried to make my life hell. They didn't want me around their daughter, ever again. A blind rage that went on for a very long time until every communication route was blocked.

She went to school and told her friends the false stories her parents told her, and her friends already didn't like me...I mean just look at what I had done before...it wasn't good. Not for me, anyway. Also her. She felt duped. Used. By her parents. She didn't know who to trust or what was real. Everyone was telling her how horrible I was.

I got a chance to talk to her one day. We talked for hours, face to face. Sat in the cold and talked. It was an amazing talk. We caught each other up completely on our lives. We talked about our love. Our past. Our emotions. All of them. Good and bad. But we told each other we'd always love each other. She stuck by me, and also reassured me that she always would. I left that conversation feeling so secure. The most I'd felt since way before I'd become a total **** to her. When her and I were so deep in love.

She's always wanted to go far away from college. She told me stories of her past and what her parents did to her, what she did to herself that were not good. Not good at all. She wanted to get away from her parents.

Meanwhile I was so caught up in the feelings she gave me when I was in her arms, I almost couldn't handle the fact that she wanted to leave. I pleaded for her to stay, in a time that her and I were both unstable and it was already taboo that we were even on the same property. But still, she said "she wanted to stay" because her and I work so well together...when we work together, that is, and I and her were both determined to work together. I told her I would do anything for her. In all of it though, I told her that the decision was in her hands and I would still love her the same if she left, and that I would wait for her. Because I loved her more than anything.

After that talk, things got quiet. I guess, too quiet. I was legally bound to stay away from her. I talked to someone she worked with and asked them to tell her hello for me. I thought though, we were on good terms following the talk, I thought she'd be elated to hear from me.

She never responded.

One day, a couple weeks later, she told me I really needed to get over her. That she didn't love me like that anymore. She told me she'd been falling out of love since the summer, and she'd gone crazy and needed space. She said she wanted to be friends, but no relationship. No relationship anymore. She said she couldn't handle it. She said she couldn't handle a relationship in general.

She made that message a bit accusatory. I'd been talking to two friends, one who I'd known for years and a new one I'd just made. Both overlapping friends with hers. Those two helped keep me sane.

She started that message with "I heard you've been messaging my friends, and to be honest, I haven't had the heart to message you back." She repeated multiple times that I needed to get over her. She told me that it wasn't anyone else's influence too. She even listed people. People who'd separated us. Hurt me. Hurt her, in a way, but encouraged her in others.

At the same time, she blocked me on facebook again. She had unblocked me when she found out her parents did it for her. Odd though...I thought she wanted to be friends. I mean, it was like the only way I was able to have her in my life at all. To read her facebook posts and her read mine. To have discussions with friends. We have a lot of overlapping friends.

Man, she killed me. One second I thought she was my soul mate and the next I was in the bathroom puking my guts out because she was telling me we'd never be together again.


So fast forward to today...I still love her. And she's basically in a relationship with someone else. She's also either on the fence about her sexuality, or decided she doesn't like boys anymore. I feel bad about that too. Its like I ruined male relationships for her. It's only been a few weeks since she told me I needed to get over her. She doesn't talk to me anymore. I go to high school events even though I graduated last year just to see her. When I don't approach her, she ignores me. I'm just another person in the room. When I do approach her, she has such a scared look on her face. She doesn't want to talk to me, but she can't be mean to me. She's falling in love with someone else and she's getting happier. She doesn't need me showing up everywhere just to depress her.

Yet I keep bothering her. Because I'm a sucker for her. I can't help it. I love her. I want her to be my future. But at this point I'm grasping at straws. So hard. I shouldn't be trying anymore. But I'll end up trying until the day I die. And only then will I stop believing in her and I. I know it's a pipe dream. But I'll hold onto it. Because it's the only thing I have left of myself now.

Last night, (I mean, right before I wrote this around 5 AM, it is now 8 AM) I played those two songs again. I forgot they were at the end of my playlist and I started shivering and crying my eyes out. I got chills. I got so cold. The tears just ran. They ran down my face faster than I've cried in a long, long time.

I'm only okay right now because I took a bunch of pills. Pills that have this kind of effect on me. They make me kind of numb. Kind of happy. Upper and downer both.

That's pretty much, my sad ending to a sad story.
I'm living the kind of life that only people like Shane Koyczan know how to explain to people.

Ironically, she loves Shane Koyczan.
I do too.
We grew up in broken homes and lived broken lives until we found each other.
Then we broke each other.

But she's falling for someone else, because I wasn't what I should have been to her, and she knows
But she doesn't believe in me anymore, the way I believe in her...because I wasn't what I should have been to her, and she can't hold onto me when I'm a 50/50 chance, of bringing her down again.
If only she would let me hug her again, kiss her one more time...I could die happy, knowing I poured all my heart and soul out into that last kiss.
But I'm a gamble. And she can't put her heart out on the line for someone who wasn't always good to her. She used to call me her "sweet boy" and she still tells me I'll always be her "sweet boy", but the fact of the matter is, it doesn't cut it to only be sweet s
I needed to write this. I've been going crazy. I told her I needed to talk to her but she's been avoiding me. If she reads this, I know its hard for her. There are more explanations I need to give her, I hope she will let me speak to her someday. I've found out a lot about myself in just the last few weeks. Stuff I don't talk about in this story. To you, my dear...if you read this, I'm sorry. I know it's tough. Its very tough. But look at the positive, dear. I'll keep living. Maybe I'll be okay someday. Your happiness is what matters to me. If you're happy, I'll keep myself going. I'm going to go to sleep now. Finally, I have some peace.
Mitch Prax Dec 2019
Baby,
I just got home.
I'm about to pass out
but don't worry,
I've put on more than enough
toothpaste to rid me of
your love.
With crossed fingers,
and a heart still pounding,
I close my eyes hoping
your magic cure works.
Either way,
you were so worth it.
Okay, goodnight.
Caio Consoli Mar 2018
In a Strike
Lightning in Dice
I'm no Psych
Just a Mice
~
With a Slice
Be the Treasure
There's no Rice
But whole Pleasure
~
It's a Measure
To be Safe
Y'all Immature
Learn to Strafe
~
You a Wafe
Me a Pure
This is Chafe
I am Sure
~
See is Azure
Trust my Gut
The must Alure
Who can Cut

~

Battle will Begin
Their's no Mercy
Who can Win
With no Trirsty
~
Don't be Nasty
Ships will Fire
They are Classy
Like a Choir
~
With no Tire
We will Roll
Do not Retire
That's out Goal
~
Burn the Soul
Fight with Urge
Do your Role
Let's Purge
~
We won't Merge
Enemy is tricky
To the Verge
Give them Hickey.
Pirates
Brian C Sep 2015
“That’s so high school,” they say.
“What are you, fifteen?” they ask.
But why?
I call them battle wounds,
And you’ve always hated that.
But why?
What we do in bed is who we are
Let me carve valleys into your back
With my sharpened fingers.
Puncture my legs with your jagged nails
Until I stain the ocean dark, dark black.
Claw, bite, rip, tear, gnaw
Your way to my heart.
Take it in your mouth and crunch down,
Until we mix into one. Until we are.
What were we?
Friends, acquaintances, lovers, enemies, strangers,
It doesn’t matter anymore. Now we’re one.
I will leave whatever marks on you I can,
Be they out of love and passion.
I will colonize your skin, make my home in
Every pore and crevice.
I will mark what is mine in that moment,
Out of fear that you will be gone tomorrow.
Do the same to me. Make me yours.
Strip my identity from my bones,
Replace my flesh with you, with us, with this.
Your friends’ lovers don’t leave marks like that?
Your friends don’t know how to love like I do.
We are what we do in bed,
and I leave marks.
Charlotte Dec 2017
I have a sign on my chest
that says "trespassers
welcome."

It's written in red ink,
the cheap kind that never really dries
and with each new boy
that invites himself into my home,
the letters become smudged.

I try to remove the sign
but it remains there
etched into my skin
and the more I pull at my skin
the stronger the pain
in my chest grows.

Trespassers are only temporary
and I pray that one day
they will stop reading my body
as an open invitation but

until that day.
My chest
will be painted
​red.
devante moore May 2016
A blemish
Purple and red
What went through your mind
At the time
As she ****** on you
And her lips touched your neck  
Was there panic or distress
Or where you so far gone
You didn't care she was attached to your neck
Where was the respect
And now this relationship is a mess
Still in recovery
Unable to move to the next step
How could you betray me
You shattered the trust
Just for one day
But hay  
Enjoy the memory
If that hickey
That wasn't given by me
Deanna Jul 2014
When the boy you like shows up with a hickey on his neck,
do not linger.
I know what it is like to be in that state of limbo
Between hope and surrender
When every time he puts his arms around you it feels like the stars have aligned and all is right with the world.
But also when his eyes brush over the cute waitress' body for just a second too long
It feels like your chest just opened up to reveal a shriveled heart.

And let me tell you that it is not worth it.
Because while you sit at home imagining his hands on the back of your neck,
He's in the back of a car with his lips on someone else's throat.
You will spend hours,
days,
remembering every little thing he's ever said to you,
And he will almost forget your name the next time he sees you.

Darling let me tell you
that you deserve better.
You deserve someone who will repeat your name in their sleep.
His hands will feel different
but they will be warm unlike the ice cold ones of your imagination.
And if you're lucky,
you will have plenty of hickeys of your own.
a little reminder for me and probably many others out there.
Jeremy Duff Jun 2013
I guess the reason I text you drunk at 3 in the morning is because I have so many things to say to you and I don't have the courage to say them without the aid of 151 Proof Everclear grain alcohol.

And the boy I was sharing the ***** with didn't mind me talking about you.
The Boy with the Sunshine face didn't mind hearing all about that one time you and I danced.
He didn't mind hearing about the one time you kissed me
and he didn't mind me texting you.

In the morning I laughed it off unlike my hangover.
Just like the day before,
the first thing I reached for was my pipe
and after that it was my phone.
And at 11:30 in the morning I read the text you had sent at 9 the same morning.

I guess all I really want is you.
And that's dumb to say
because I want a job
and a ranch
and maybe a dime bag.
But out of all these things I want to hold you most.
And I want to kiss your face
and touch your waists.

As much fun as I had receiving this hickey
it would be nice to have one from you.

To the Girl who Gave Me This Hickey:
Thank you,
it was fun.
rook Nov 2014
there's a certain elegant aesthetic in the discoloration
of a bruise on pale skin
of knowing that yes, higher up means you are in big trouble
but higher up also means
the world can see
that she is
yours
short and not what i wanted to say and not true at all
Jade Charlotte Dec 2018
Is the unspoken love like wind?
What adhesive could make your breath stick to my neck?

I know we are rolling through this like two inconsequential boulders, but baby,
I don't want to crash into anyone else.

You gave me a hickey on my *** and after pushing my hair out of my eyes,
Tucking it so tenderly and neatly behind my ears
"We are just friends" echoed from your lips-- akin to the repetition of screaming into a long tunnel.

Today my throat is chalky,
like a pale moon on a dry and cold night.
Every line I draw ends up connecting my chest to yours.

Slide a note under my door with a drawing of hills that never stop rolling
If you decide
You want me like the mushroom wants rain,
Like the honey bee wants to serve its queen.
You bet your *** I just watched my favorite romance movie! Also, pain makes good poetry.
Ray Ross Jul 2018
Writing his name feels like a panic attack.

I was fifteen. Young kid, lonely.
All I wanted was to be wanted,
And he wanted me.

He was eighteen. Average man,
He already knew me.
I went to his house and he gave me a hickey.

Little red mark on my neck, pretty pink,
On my skin it stayed, as I leaned over the sink.
Last night's dinner was going to come up.

The bra I wore to his house,
I've only worn it once since then.
Wearing it feels like putting his hands on me.

The jeans I wore to his house,
I lost them and decided not to look.
They were a reminder of the piece of me he took.

Everything we did, I said "yes" to.
He was the first guy to touch my chest,
I had to force my body to be mine again.

All I wanted was to be wanted,
And he wanted me.
Traumatized so beautifully.

Boy down the street.
All I wanted was to be wanted,
And he wanted me.

I just wanted to be wanted.
And he wanted my body.
Writing his name feels like a panic attack.
Sam Conrad Dec 2013
258 days,

June

First week of June?
Amazing. I'd experienced your body...for real this time. Did more with you than I'd ever done with anyone. That party...

Sister, brother leaving...

Couch...
Us...

Not like it matters, now.
Reminds me. I should probably be put in a straight jacket if you ever get close to me again someday. Like, if you ever decide you can be okay with what I did to you. What I did to you was not okay, though.

June 13th
Hickey #2 ("#3) found
Whoops. We got too caught up in this whole ****** business...
Gauntlet thrown down
My aunt was over with her two children
8:27pm: "Please call us ***-***-XXXX"
Replied 8:35pm: "I can't right now. My aunt and her kids are over...
Lizzie told me she was in trouble during her break. I'm assuming I'm in trouble too? I'm not going to make any excuses this time and I apologize. Its my fault. I can call when my aunt leaves."

Around 8:45pm, my cell phone rings. My aunt and her kids are still over.
I am shaking so badly that I have trouble sliding my finger on the touchscreen to pick up the call.
Some of the call is a blur to me.
I cried so hard.
I shook so hard.
I cramped in places I'd never cramped before.
I was gagging on the phone and it just made them more mad at me.
Around 9:55 the phone call ends.
They told me they were going to take all your clothes off.
They pushed me to admit I'd had *** with you.
I wouldn't admit it.
I wouldn't admit anything except the hickey.
God knows we did more.
But I just hoped that God understood that I never wanted to lose you.
I never wanted to lose you.
They asked for my 18th birthday, so they could mark their calendar as the "day they could touch me"
(Because assault on a minor = felony, assault on adult goes much more easily)
I never wanted to lose you.
That threat alone almost made me **** myself. They threatened to hurt me. Physically. On my birthday.
I never wanted to lose you.
They told me they had expectations for me.
They told me I had to hold a certain GPA, and wouldn't tell me what it was.
They told me I needed to have a certain job, by a certain date, and they wouldn't tell me what the date was.
They told me to "let them take care of that ****", the dates they wouldn't tell me.
They told me I should graduate in 3 years, I forgot about this one...
Claimed "I was smart enough to do it" and that "maybe it would prove I was worth their daughter seeing"
They compared me to Zack W. and how they made him break up with you.
They told me they wouldn't force me to do that but that I'd be sorry for what I did.
...by the end of the phone call though, she had softened up.
After all, I was crying so hysterically...she either pretended, or temporarily understood that I was sorry.
She told Ray I was really sorry.
Ray though, was in the background screaming
"That ****** isn't sorry. He ain't ******' sorry."
...
When you got home that night,
They took it easy on you.
They didn't actually strip your clothes off.
They told you they were "kinda harsh" on me and that I "took most of it for you"...
...
...
...
The week before, my friend Nick drank himself to death. He essentially committed suicide.
...
Two weeks later, your mom refused to talk at all about this phone call.
It was sick what she did to me.
I was sick inside. I hated myself. Not to mention Nick invited me over the night he died.
He would be alive had I been there that night.
...
If I had been there with Nick, he wouldn't have died.
...
...
I ended June full of so much guilt. So much confusion. So much pain. I lost a friend. I lost myself.
...
June.
Carsyn Smith Jul 2014
I've reached the point
where all I want to do
is scream; curse the world;
cry until no tears are left.
Girls who told me lies:
"no boy will come between us"
"we're friends forever."
How silly of me to think
they meant those bound words?
My heart hurts because of them
I loved them like kin
But how quickly they've left me
because of a bruise:
a small mark on my neck's side.
It's just a hickey.
But they don't want to be friends
with a "****" like me.
It's not my fault they're lonely
not my fault I'm loved.
I want to blame jealousy,
but I'm just running
to the arms of Patriarch
crying in His sleeve
begging for His forgiveness.
Because this hickey,
the same ****** mark as
scratches on men's backs,
marks me as a ***** ****
and him as a man.
But we're friends forever, right?
Or was that before
I had the gall to love him?
But that shouldn't matter, right?
Because something like
a boy won't separate us.
How stupid am I
to actually believe
I thought I found friends?
Girls are such terrible things
we deal in weapons
of silence, gossip, and blame:
things that do not show
things that will bleed the heart dry.
My heart is bleeding out: *D  R  Y
Just an angry rant full of tears, regret, and boiling blood.
Montana Aug 2012
It smelled like cheap beer
and stale cigarettes,
and my shoes stuck to the floor.

My head throbbed with an ache
even my ***** tonics couldn't soothe,
and watching you watching her made me
feel short of breath.

I shook her hand and smiled
as I glanced at the hickey on your neck.
You gave me a hug and offered me a cigarette,
and I smoked it in the corner
Alone.
RN Sep 2017
Love is not just about holding hands every day and night
Kissing each other under a blinking light
Making her scream while she holds you tight
And after the fight, both of you lose your might

Love is a touch and yet not a touch
Touch her heart more than you touch her breast
Kiss her soul together with her lips
Hug her attitude along with her body

Make her smile not make her ***
Love her unconditionally not **** her hard
Give her letters and poems, not Hickey
Make memories with her before making her a baby

Go with her in churches, not in motels
See her with a beautiful dress not naked
Take off her problems not her clothes
Make her tears flow in happiness, not in pain

Tell her that she's a blessing
Save her if she feels that life is falling
Understand her if she's doing other things
Treat her like she's the Queen and you're the King
Every time you lay me down on an afghan
It's like you're deflowering me again
Your lips against mine, so sweet and so soft, just us two
Skin to skin, you touch me and I melt into you
These positions are very tricky
With every one, you leave a hickey
Our hands intertwined
Reminds me you're mine
You nibbling on my ear
Makes me feel the end is near
Though I don't want his feeling to end
You slowly make my back bend
kelia Oct 2014
like a walk of shame
except i'm beautiful and proud
and the fall weather got here last night
unpacked it's bags but forgot to paint the leaves
and i'm walking and there's nothing shameful about anything i did
and alleyways look beautiful too
in their own way
and i'll skip breakfast because i'm still drunk
and i'm still in love
and my shadow looks a bit taller than i do
i left my underwear behind
lace crumbled in the floor
REMEMBER ME
i stole somebody's mcdonald's
and ate it in the street corner
did i leave my cardigan at yours?
see you tomorrow
making latte art hungover in some beautiful knock off paris store
and i asked you, politely, to leave the mess outside
and you never saw that butterfly temporary tattoo on my chest
everything is temporary
because you didn't even bother to get me undressed
but you left your mark on my neck
thanks for that
just know you're not the only one who i made eyes with last night
i kissed a few on the lips
you aren't the only boy who fancied in my *** perfume
at least you walked me home
it was five am but at least you walked me home
and your dorm room wasn't big enough for how wide my legs were but this dress was tight and you bruised my thigh
or that might've been the other boy who threw me into the dark corner and i fell to the floor as he fell into me
but my hair is long enough to cover this hickey
and i'll take a sip of your coke and whiskey
i listen to that boys song and laugh on my way to work
and the shins are playing in starbucks
and i wouldn't mind if just for a second
i could pretend to die
Ashley Nicole Jan 2015
The only bruise he should ever leave on you
Is a hickey
September Jun 2016
you loved me good, but
he hated me better. i'm
a sucker for passion, oh,
the thought of him still
bites.
bruise
Sam Conrad Dec 2013
258 days,

May
May was a good month. Our only "good month".
If you can even call it good.
We fell more in love than I would have ever believed.
You made me believe.
I started to believe that the storm was over.
That I could finally write a new chapter with you.
That you could write new chapters too.
You told me you threw away your blades. (To this day, I don't know if you ever did)
You told me you'd love me forever.
I told you I'd love you forever.
We told each other we'd love each other forever.
May was intense.
My feelings for you had never been stronger.
Sweet girl, I wish I could relive May for the rest of my life, that when I'd wake up from it,
It would be the beginning of May again...
I think one week you and I spent every single day together
We were spending a lot of time together
Word on the street though was that your grades had been slipping.
Word...on...grades...slipping.
I remember coming over and your mom asking about it
She wasn't really being that mean
I just took it too harshly I guess.
Your parents seemed a little upset that we were spending so much time together.
You needed to focus on your school work, they said.
We did our thing though.
Somewhere in between April and May, a hickey...I gave you one...I had one too
Your mom called me a vampire.
She made jokes about it like every second I was in the car, or in the house (when Ray wasn't there, anyway)
Gave me a little warning not to do it anymore.
So I guess near the middle of May, a hickey appeared on your neck
I'd been making sure not to bite, so I don't know how it got there. Maybe it was just a bruise?
Your mom wasn't so kind this time around.  She warned that next time she was telling Ray. She seemed angry, but seemed to let it slide.
Did I mention I freaked out a little?
I'm overly sensitive.

Going through the rest of May though was bliss with you. We made some more ****** advances...
We just made sure to be careful about them.
Except we weren't ACTUALLY careful.
At all.
Nope.

I still remember May 24th...graduation day, kissed your stomach. What the **** was I doing?

So that was May.
Leah May 2014
this is what lua says, in 140 characters or less..

on going out, and going home:
"just can't be happy tonight"
"so I left. unwilling to be anything but alone"

some things are better left forgotten:
"forget what I was going to tell you"

about to pass out:
"radio silence"

cough medicine:
"dextromethorphan"


an autobiography:
"if you like what you can't have and the smell of stale cigarettes
you're sure going to love me."
"and that's dedicated to somebody"

a confession:
"theres an awful lot of rapid life changes being thrown at me & so typically I've decided to sleep more and smoke more and be lazier overall"
"additionally I might add that all of my friends have discovered how infrequently I get laid and have decided to comment about it"
"so that feels nice. okay goodnight"

on relaspse:
"puked my throat out. the taste of loneliness is the taste of failure"

on alliterations:
"migranes and mixed feelings today"

on fine dining:
"stir fry is the best way to eat your feelings"

death cab for cutie references:
"tiny vessels from the other side of the microphone isn't great"

on setting goals:
"tomorrow I will wake up new and fresh and young and me"
"replacing all meals with green tea"

and not quite accomplishing them:
"old habits die hard"
"I didn't wake up new or fresh because I woke up me"

missing MySpace's "current mood" feature:
"tired and jaded and bored to tears"

potential comedy ideas:
" "my easter hickey"  "

on having a hickey:
"tiny vessels *******"

on alka seltzer cough and cold medicine:
"no such thing as a half dose"
"orange carbonated salvation"

on life outlook:
"**** 'em"
ashley Apr 2013
pale skin
rosebud lips
dark freckles
blue eyes

a heavy posture
long golden locks
bold eyelashes
small, gentle fingers

everything about her
was as close to perfect
as anyone could ever get

except
just below her neck
on the right side of her chest,

a deep blue and purple
hickey is planted
on her collar bone

despite this,
her imperfections
made her even more
perfect
than anyone ever thought
she could be
Madeline Aug 2013
there is an undauntable light in my eyes
and a hickey sliced warmly across the middle of my throat,
and the half-lingered and utter warmth of your hands in mine.
there are murmured "i love you"s
and unsuppressed smiles
and the promise of
soon, soon,
seeing each other again.
there is rewarded patience
and the warming of my long unkissed mouth
to yours
and there is the reassurance that
yes, it was worth it.
for p
s May 2017
I wake up at odd hours
staring at the glowing stars,
wanting to hold you
just a little bit closer;
Sleepy and ****,
studying how we got here.
"Are you happy?"
we ask each other;
And how could I not be
when I have you to smother
with all my affection
and love and time;
And then with recollection
in these amateur rhymes.

The in-betweens have changed forms,
we’ve adapted to new norms.
From the thrills of inconspicuous visits,
to bhindi, roti & aamras refills.
Feeding off fiction
on Netflix in tandem,
Followed by theories,
and religious fandom.
Falling asleep
while you clash with clans,
after making me promise
on some serious gym plans.
Battling opinions
about the taste of matar
over cold chocolate milkshakes
and peanut butter.
Chewing your earlobe
and tugging at your toes;
Occasionally consoling you
out of old scars & woes.
That specific laugh
from tickling your collarbone -
it's so satisfying -
an intoxication of it’s own.
Smelling your armpits,
in that long drawn embrace.
Rolling my eyes
when you mock my mirror face.
That impossible hunt
for your perfect pair of jeans.
And now I know that
Epigamia's yogurt,
is filled with proteins.
Summer afternoon *** -
sweaty and sticky;
Teaching you how to give
a bruising hickey.
Recording cheap home ****
out of curiosity ,
And also fulfilling
that underwater fantasy-
which turned out to be tricky.

And then when you leave,
it fills me up with lustful greed,
as I try to make myself believe
that you’re a want & not a need.
But I’d rather you know
what I want and how I feel,
for you feel like home
and you’re where I'm at peace.
Shauna Nov 2014
That moment when
"I love you"
Becomes synonymous
With a slam of the door

That moment when
Water pours out of your doe-like eyes
And takes the shape
Of your absent father

That moment when
You witness a stranger's father
Pushing away a girl resembling a porcelain doll's hand
And whispering,
"It hurts me more than it will ever hurt you."

That moment when
You realize
You have a hickey
Except
It's on your heart

That moment when
What used to upset you
Now amuses you greatly
Because,
You killed every inch of feeling
And replaced it
With jokes
Until
One day
You realized
You also killed yourself
In the process
Hot mess 101
Zoe Nov 2011
When things were good, they were
weightless.
We could stumble down the streets
at four in the morning,
wearing hickeys like tattoos
we'd be ashamed of at dawn.
Sneaking wristbands from friends
with fake IDs,
or faker ****.
And if we were low on cash,
we might take turns
lifting our shirts, shifting our bras,
until a flash of something sacred
earned a free drink.
I could have been
ashamed
if gravity were working.
But we were all
weightless.
Mistakes just floated away.

Our dresses were too short, and
our dresses were too tight, and
the boys wore shirts
that were good at hiding stains.
Sometimes we didn't even need words;
we could walk into
a smokey, sticky bar
and fall in love with a boy's arms
while he fell in love
with a too-short dress
and the chance to see underneath it.
And we knew
we'd be waking up
with those hickey-tattoos.
But we didn't care, because
we were all
weightless.
The boys just floated away.

Maybe we wouldn't find any
dance-floor-love,
but that was always okay, because
we were in love
with ourselves.
Our hazy heads
whispered pretty words,
and as we burned our throats
with shots of pure love,
pretty words began to slur
into a pretty song, but we could
never remember the melody
when we awoke.
So the next night
we'd shimmy into our too-tight dresses
and start ******* down
more liquid love
until we began hearing
that pretty song again.
We half-knew our sober hearts
would never be able to recall
the tune,
but it never mattered.
We were all
weightless.
Notes just floated away.

These nights, things are
heavier.
I'll pour myself some love,
but it burns like regret now.
I don't wear any too-tight dresses
because I don't much miss
the dance floor.
I don't miss the hickeys
or the four A.M. walks.
I don't miss the shirts
being lifted and pulled.
I don't miss the smoke
flooding the bars.
But I do miss the song
that I'll never quite know.
For though I am grounded,
that tune is forever
weightless,
and the notes will just float away.
I don't quite like the ending. And I have mixed feelings about the repetition. I could use a lot of help with this one, y'all. Thanks bunches.
AJ Jun 2015
You're a hickey on my neck,
bruised and red,
marking your territory,
refusing to fade.
ericka bonilla Nov 2013
You wrote me a love letter.
A different kind of love letter.
Not the handwritten kind.
You wrote me a classic love letter.
On my body with your mouth.
Signed with a hickey.
I want to write you a love letter too.
Not the handwritten kind.
The kind for the whole world to see.

-elissette

— The End —