Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"tiptoes" poems
It arrives, Unnoticed, unannounced. Quiet, At first. Slow, Seeping, dripping. I put it down to a few stressful weeks. I carry on. It unpacks, Worries, anxieties. Gently, For now, Tiptoes, Whispers, creaks. ‘It will leave soon’ I think ‘It always does.’ I keep going. It settles in, Getting comfortable. Getting louder, And louder. Banging thoughts, Insomnia. ‘Please don’t be happening again’. I shuffle along my daily routine. Claws in, Insidious. Screaming, 24/7. Shame, worthlessness, Hurt. ‘Please go away’. I’m barely coping. Growing roots, Into my brain and heart. Blossoming pain, With every beat. Emptiness, loneliness, Abandonment. Silence, Stillness, ‘I can’t move, I can’t cope.’
0
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 8:20 AM UTC
It arrives
She keeps songs locked away in boxes like secrets. She will take them out like postcards to help her remember the feeling of a different time, a different person by her side. She likes the one that makes her eyes close to see the lights. She smiles at the one that   makes her stand up on tiptoes, the one that helps her forget she doesn’t know what to do with her hands. The tune will carry her. Like it did the times when voices broke like a heart. When instruments’ strings would snap and hurt.
0
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 1:34 PM UTC
Music
My childhood was sunshine, summer days, pool, book, trees, It was yellow dandelion, carpet lawn and endless blue and green as far as I could see standing on my tiptoes on a swing in the backyard jumping down onto smooth soft summer grass in the flat calm ivy-colored sea It was stars on the night sky like stars on my ceiling, hair floating up around me with my dreams, pulling me out the open window into air, into indigo, into midnight blue, nail-polish painted sky on the sweet-smelling cedar easel, in the dark room, where I come sometimes to touch the beginning with butterfly-soft fingers My childhood was hide and seek, shut up in closets, smiling, laughing, giggling, yelling tag you’re it, as it touched board game movers and pushed them one two three around boards colored like rainbows that I rode around the world and into the universe Now my childhood is two yellow foam blocks asking me, “Why?” “Where?” but I don’t know why it’s gone or where it’s gone to, all I know is that I’m not ready, but here I come
0
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 12:51 AM UTC
It Happened Slowly-- In steps-- Until I Woke Up One Day This Winter and Thought to Myself, "Now, Where Has My Childhood Gone?"
Every day is the same; they wake up in the same bed, at the same ungodly hour, to the same monotonous ringing from the alarm clock. They grumble their ‘good morning’s; whether they believe it is or not, rolling out of opposite sides of the duvet. They dance around each other in the bathroom, the heat of the shower creating a fog through which neither of them can see; causing him to stub his toe on the toilet or the counter, and steaming up the mirror so she can’t apply her make-up. They continue their ritual into the kitchen; flicking on the kettle, popping in the bread, pouring the orange juice; stirring the tea, catching the toast and spreading the butter and jam. Crunching and slurping together at the table, mumbling about what their days have in store; tapping texts on their phones, crinkling newspaper in their hands. They peck each other a kiss goodbye and mutter a ‘see you later’ before going their separate ways. But then Monday comes... Mondays are different. He knows she doesn’t like Monday mornings. It’s the very beginning of a new, long, tiring week. She never looks forward to Mondays. So he changes that. He sets the alarm on his watch a little earlier than other days; shutting it off before it can wake her. He slips silently out of bed and tiptoes quietly into the bathroom to shower; leaving her smiley faces and love messages on the steamy mirrors. He creates her favourite tea and makes her toast with raspberry jam; just the way she likes it. Picking a flower from the garden; whichever one looks the happiest and brightest, he places it all on a tray and pads back up to the bedroom to wake her. She no longer sets her alarm on Mondays. She knows he’ll not let her oversleep. He places the flower in her hair and drops delicate kisses; full of his love and affection for her, to the corner of her mouth, until she stirs gently. She smiles on Monday mornings. They eat breakfast in bed, covering the sheets in crumbs and giggling contentedly as the cat licks them up. She hums in the bathroom while he clears away crockery, and always re-emerges with the flower tucked behind her ear. It remains there ‘til night fall. They never once look at their phones or the paper, far too focused on each other to pay anything else mind. Their kiss as they part reminds them of their love for each other and of the good things in life; like strolls along the shore, strawberries dipped in dark chocolate, smiling sunflowers that open to a beautiful summer’s day, and of course, Monday mornings.
0
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 5:17 PM UTC
Monday Mornings
Every day is the same; they wake up in the same bed, at the same ungodly hour, to the same monotonous ringing from the alarm clock. They grumble their ‘good morning’s; whether they believe it is or not, rolling out of opposite sides of the duvet. They dance around each other in the bathroom, the heat of the shower creating a fog through which neither of them can see; causing him to stub his toe on the toilet or the counter, and steaming up the mirror so she can’t apply her make-up. They continue their ritual into the kitchen; flicking on the kettle, popping in the bread, pouring the orange juice; stirring the tea, catching the toast and spreading the butter and jam. Crunching and slurping together at the table, mumbling about what their days have in store; tapping texts on their phones, crinkling newspaper in their hands. They peck each other a kiss goodbye and mutter a ‘see you later’ before going their separate ways. But then Monday comes... Mondays are different. He knows she doesn’t like Monday mornings. It’s the very beginning of a new, long, tiring week. She never looks forward to Mondays. So he changes that. He sets the alarm on his watch a little earlier than other days; shutting it off before it can wake her. He slips silently out of bed and tiptoes quietly into the bathroom to shower; leaving her smiley faces and love messages on the steamy mirrors. He creates her favourite tea and makes her toast with raspberry jam; just the way she likes it. Picking a flower from the garden; whichever one looks the happiest and brightest, he places it all on a tray and pads back up to the bedroom to wake her. She no longer sets her alarm on Mondays. She knows he’ll not let her oversleep. He places the flower in her hair and drops delicate kisses; full of his love and affection for her, to the corner of her mouth, until she stirs gently. She smiles on Monday mornings. They eat breakfast in bed, covering the sheets in crumbs and giggling contentedly as the cat licks them up. She hums in the bathroom while he clears away crockery, and always re-emerges with the flower tucked behind her ear. It remains there ‘til night fall. They never once look at their phones or the paper, far too focused on each other to pay anything else mind. Their kiss as they part reminds them of their love for each other and of the good things in life; like strolls along the shore, strawberries dipped in dark chocolate, smiling sunflowers that open to a beautiful summer’s day, and of course, Monday mornings.
Continue reading...
20
imagine — you are the last of your species, an angel, who dances on ice. like a film that protects this earth , your wings are broken , and these are the pieces of you that cannot go home . . so on tiptoes, this cracked marble does not shatter, and everyone gets to watch you perform , unknowing of the cold truth that you are shackled to , like a ballerina in a box that hums a sweet tune — you still dance , even as the last of your species, even though you are all that you have left. and even though you have decided that love is a form of betrayal. .
0
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 2:04 PM UTC
allegory of the cave
She lives a quiet life, she tiptoes around, she whispers when she speaks, she hardly ever makes a sound. Although her words are quiet, her mind is very loud. She has so much to say, but no one listens for soft sounds. She's an invisible girl, who doesn't want to stand out, she just wants to be heard, without having to shout. Sometimes the loudest people, aren't saying much at all. Empty words and promises, just leave their mouths and fall. But whispered words fly high, and catch peoples attention, they're intriguing, so amazing, but only when they listen. So look outside the spotlight, because often the real star, isn't anyone on stage, but the mind behind it all.
0
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 2:31 AM UTC
Whispered Words
Every blue patch on the sky keeps an eye, cherishing clouds dancing, hovering over. The songs of deep blue ride the heady air, only to be stunned, all of a sudden, at the first sight— sung down on a perfectly placed mural. The Queen of Sheba tiptoes this way; King Solomon leans to the ground, only to find seas of silent blooms musing, dipping in sun-kissed dews— on gently tilted roses that will not fall, not from this picture-perfect, navel-high! Velvety, the rose rises from the ground; the forever-green Earth hangs low, in the dew on the rose that will not fall. Blossoming, eyeing an acute high, evermore hopeful to scale upward, toward the faraway, awaiting heaven's pool. There, the spotlight does not move— neither north nor south, nor up nor down— until Queen Fathima, the Queen of Heaven, steps on the "as above, so below" slope. There, the newly resurrected Earth will be primed, its minted atoms vibrating beyond bounds, rising, for the first time, atop the navel-high. Perfectly wrapped, the atom's circle finally turns on— the stepping stone that holds no pi-decimal hole. Pure Scientia hangs on the door of Paradise, awaiting the numerically perfect Queen Fathima to step. God willing, she will work in beauty: the most sought-after, perfect works of art— the lost masterpiece, not in translation, but hidden within the pi-decimal abyss of Earth's depth. Lo, the gleaning Sleeping Beauty peeps, trailing the role model Queen. Fathima—the first woman to enter Paradise— walks the walk: perfect, straight, numerically precise. As if she always knew, back from the Earth, of the murals ahead, hanging on Paradise’s wall, mathematically exact! Mirrors of imagination, new wonders on Heaven’s way, etched in the murals at the golden section, navel-high. She zooms past the ever-spinning atom’s perfect span, cemented at the entrance of Paradise. Yet leaves no footprint— for she never did, even on the sublunary Earth. A new wonder blooms in the classic old eyes: oh, Pi, still irrational, still pondering, at the measured, eternal navel-high!
0
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 5:02 PM UTC
Earth to Heaven: Navel High
Every blue patch on the sky keeps an eye, cherishing clouds dancing, hovering over. The songs of deep blue ride the heady air, only to be stunned, all of a sudden, at the first sight— sung down on a perfectly placed mural. The Queen of Sheba tiptoes this way; King Solomon leans to the ground, only to find seas of silent blooms musing, dipping in sun-kissed dews— on gently tilted roses that will not fall, not from this picture-perfect, navel-high! Velvety, the rose rises from the ground; the forever-green Earth hangs low, in the dew on the rose that will not fall. Blossoming, eyeing an acute high, evermore hopeful to scale upward, toward the faraway, awaiting heaven's pool. There, the spotlight does not move— neither north nor south, nor up nor down— until Queen Fathima, the Queen of Heaven, steps on the "as above, so below" slope. There, the newly resurrected Earth will be primed, its minted atoms vibrating beyond bounds, rising, for the first time, atop the navel-high. Perfectly wrapped, the atom's circle finally turns on— the stepping stone that holds no pi-decimal hole. Pure Scientia hangs on the door of Paradise, awaiting the numerically perfect Queen Fathima to step. God willing, she will work in beauty: the most sought-after, perfect works of art— the lost masterpiece, not in translation, but hidden within the pi-decimal abyss of Earth's depth. Lo, the gleaning Sleeping Beauty peeps, trailing the role model Queen. Fathima—the first woman to enter Paradise— walks the walk: perfect, straight, numerically precise. As if she always knew, back from the Earth, of the murals ahead, hanging on Paradise’s wall, mathematically exact! Mirrors of imagination, new wonders on Heaven’s way, etched in the murals at the golden section, navel-high. She zooms past the ever-spinning atom’s perfect span, cemented at the entrance of Paradise. Yet leaves no footprint— for she never did, even on the sublunary Earth. A new wonder blooms in the classic old eyes: oh, Pi, still irrational, still pondering, at the measured, eternal navel-high!
Continue reading...
49
pony-tailed playmate head tucked in her shirt gazing steadily down at her toes in the dirt chaos tiptoes around her naive oblivion journeys in far away lands just west of the meridian watercolor fairy tales bleeding outside the lines unaware of the danger unaware of the signs let me sit with you, darling in the dampened flower beds and paint a new world for us in our heads
0
Dec 24, 2018
Dec 24, 2018 at 11:25 PM UTC
never grow up
i want to play a piano i want to feel my fingers slide down the keys i want to swirl myself in melodies no one’s ever heard i want to engulf myself in harmonies angels sing their children to sleep i want my fingers to dance on black keys like ballet dancers twirling their tiptoes i want to feel like satin unwinding like champagne bubbling i want to dance in the moonlight with nothing but a grand piano and my fingers nimbly picking each key ever so softly
0
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 10:23 PM UTC
GRAND PIANO
I waste myself for you, oh page. I battle sleep and demons and Face what I would otherwise Curtail, for the simple act of Filling you up. I trap everything that I am Within you, page. A web for my Foggy thoughts, dew caught like Tears, crystallising the opaque Within my life. You are the recipient in my mind, Oh page. Brain chatter forced into Structure, a soldier. Almost a child. You **** me like an alpha, my borrowed Pleas at your feet. And so I tread you like infant snow. Each print a scar, each word a brittle **** stem. Your silence a truth beyond My own and whatever I say Will pollute it. So I walk round in circles. Tiptoes Like sparrows, piecrust shapes in The snow. I walk in circles to not Carve a path. To hide my meaning. Don’t follow me home.
0
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 7:53 PM UTC
Pollution
cheap makeup covered the purple marks of his "masculinity" forced upon her in the hours of coal, coldness and blame. before it got too much, I saw her stand on her tiptoes and dissolve into the night sky, into the night gutters, into the night cries, of pills, diets and mutters. and right as the moon swallowed her whole, only to spit her out onto guilt soaked mornings; she survived.
0
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 11:06 AM UTC
Pretty Little Bruise
Crack some fire everywhere on the way heaven. Light the shadow light a candle down the moon. The sun in fact does it every day. Scurries towards the last dark room down the moon. With the colour plate intact and full passes by shining on every corner and nook every untouched end in the day the rainbows peep on the way. Sneaks its way through the deep forests of orbs up and down the passages in the mountains of stars even after nightingales and robins go deep silent the sun tiptoes on the go lights a candle on the moon. Moments after the sunset facing its true north in the West only to find in heaven the way The Queen of Heaven puts her footprint less step it's the sun's true West shows up the new crescent.
0
Sep 4, 2022
Sep 4, 2022 at 9:10 PM UTC
On The Way Heaven
Gripping ***** locks knotted to his scalp, she kicks him to the road. Glass bottle bits scrabbling under his fingernails; he yelps, dragging away. Their pressed flower daughter clings to the soot-stained wall. She tiptoes his nape into the pavement, drawing a gag and gurgle bubbling out of his throat. Two fingers pull his nose, resting his teeth on the curb. An incisor plinks to the girl’s feet. She hugs it as close as a home.
0
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 4:58 PM UTC
The Dentist
For every star that whispers against The cold December sky, there’s a wandering Soul that tiptoes like a ballerina skates across An icy stage before losing control underneath The only street lamp that glared a yellow light Up and down a short distance on the empty street. One lost and broken body, crawling over Paved concrete, looking for a part that hadn’t Had the time to dry in the lukewarm sunlight. For each shattered heart, waiting to be buried in The wet concrete, hoping to mend its cracks And fill its craters from too many punches to The center of ourselves that should Receive nothing more than love, Will find its peace within the outside flooring Where nothing is no longer temporary.
0
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 5:59 PM UTC
Wet Concrete
She's thoroughbred hunger From her double shift mom to her deadbeat dad She tiptoes through junkyard junglegyms Collecting alleyway beach glass She learned to swindle Haggled survival with the big guy Big sisters traded on corners She was one Karma mustve forgotten While doing rounds She's got an invincible soul Stitched of disappointments Wrapped in sorrow Hope as a bow He's thoroughbred gluttony From mommas limelight jewels to daddy's sin-shined shoes He learned to swindle To thrive Wall street walk on the 99% Politician promises To impermanent faces Costly trips To extravagant places Mixing up "enough" With "more" Looking for happiness In a store Though it seems to me Whats made of life Is what makes life worth living for
0
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 4:34 AM UTC
Two sides to a story
My life is a virtual battlefield complete with hidden traps, layered atop cowardly assaults between highly guarded spans of peace, Inside my house chairs and walls are coarsely blown to bits by verbal bombs, and stark fists of shrapnel. Behind that simple smile, semblance of solid love so easily shaken, lies a ripened mine field I tread on tiptoes yet it erupts under calloused feet unprovoked, blasting glory to grey as sacred sanctuary falls to scarred terrain. Spears lodged inside ribs I peel myself from the ground, shake off soot, wait for dust to settle before I march forward, again. yes I lose the battles But I will win this war.
0
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 6:30 PM UTC
Bombshells and boobytraps
mourning doves for late afternoons a lament for the golden hour the end of adventures a little girl comes in for dinner tiptoes upstairs strokes her mothers hair leaves little blue flowers by her bed.                        I let my hair go dark again-                           just like yours, do you see?                            I'm a woman now, I have your mouth. forget-me-nots for noontime where the little girl would lay violet blue healing shroud and disappear un-pixelating a photograph in the sky the portrait that made her father cry it was a five year old aesthetic of death.            I guess I never really knew you, did I?              music box hidden in the mystery of a closet shades of midnight, shades of dust a ballerina's slow pirouette called into life after forgotten years the haunt of Sleeping Beauty.                I know you didn't mean to miss my birthday.                    I begged you for a music box, you remember?                       It's my most dear treasure on this earth. mourning doves for missing you forget-me-nots for remembering you my music box will live for you How strange that such wonderful things should make me so sad.
0
May 25, 2012
May 25, 2012 at 9:59 AM UTC
mourning doves
He was walking home Ticked off with a broken nose They stole his things And with no shame Left cuts and bruises Head to toe covering him No one gets his mind No one really tries He hides in the closet When he gets home In fear of his intoxicated father His leather belt Swinging from his fist The boy cries in bitter isolation He can't trust anyone With no safty He fears for his life His mother was killed when he was five Nine years later He just wants to die Multiple times he's tried Every one of them He survived His wrists bleed for releaf His skin pulls tight Then it's released He tiptoes out of his room This for the last time His father asleep in the chair He looked pail His chest barely moving If you weren't paying attention You might think he was dead The boy got an idea Such a melancholy idea He went in to his father's quarters Peaking under the bed There lay a box full Unsold meds A knife in the kitchen would be his weapon Nothing but a sigh let out His father was soon to be no more His heart pounded His mind thundered With anger and pride "This is for Mom!" He screamed with tears in his eyes A knife to the chest He fought the man Pushing further and harder He worked fast The eyes glazed over Both fear and joy filling his heart Into the bathtub Pills in hand He turns on the water He uncaps the bottle Putting it to his lips Up turned He sinks down Letting the drugs take their toll Gone ****** Suicide This was the price For freedom For justice
0
Mar 5, 2021
Mar 5, 2021 at 5:27 AM UTC
Gone
From a fifth storey bachelor’s window pondering shadows in the car park below, Johnny opens another can. I stuff another pipe. We talk about our trip to Brazil and how great it would’ve been had we gone; Johnny turns up the radio. I take the first drag. Old girlfriends swing by in our conversation, most of them giving us the finger, mind you; Johnny dabs at his tears. I pass him the pipe. Dusk-scalpels are slicing through the curtains now, they scrape over coffee table dust, through Irish coffee stains, cut open Johnny’s frown: The neighbours are at it again, arguing; he accuses her of seeing someone else, she tells him *correct, it’s your ****** sister.* Johnny taps out the pipe in the ashtray, says he has to do someone a favour; throws on his jacket, says take it easy. Johnny’s shadow tiptoes into evening, a car alarm screams and a gunshot cries. I convince myself this is Brazil.
0
Feb 3, 2011
Feb 3, 2011 at 7:59 PM UTC
This is Brazil
to the boy with the dancing feet, please never stop loving what you do. one day, when we meet, i hope you'll teach me the moves too. i might end up missing a step, but i know you'll correct me right away. and you might "accidentally" nudge me to make me fall, but i know you'll catch me in your arms-- that's how we'll play. you'll twirl me around on my tiptoes, my heartbeat and head is a mess, your hands on my waist, my arms round your neck, a tangle of limbs, is what anyone will guess. and when the music finally stops, that's when we have to let go. but i'm glad you taught me how to dance, through dancing, it's only love you show. to love the dancing boy, to see such passion and feel such love, to be the reason why you dance, to be only yours, to be the one you're proud of
0
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 9:10 PM UTC
to love the dancing boy
Her eyes are sinkholes in a quiet, sleeping state and I was a girl, lost and misplaced at twenty-one, looking for love in infinitesimal spaces: on her palm creases and chipped, ruby nails, and in the blown-out ends of her lotus tattoo I find myself tracing a secret, at the spiked tips of her hair tamed by fairy lights and on the slits of her skin — a rabbit hole of wonders, I always fall like Alice in sworn careful tiptoes and crash headfirst; a broken wishbone, a tainted wish some habits you just can't quit. like — October and her obsidian eyes, and the sunless ways we kissed — being lost and misplaced made sense for a while in the detached comfort of her cold bed, colder hands, warmth has become an oppression. But this dalliance has always been a disaster waiting to happen and I am a paramour, a memory, a face in the crowd swallowed in a seismic fall — and losing October has always been a disaster waiting to happen — this bed, always a site of a losing battle and I find myself in a soiled, torn dress, lying helpless on the other side of her war. Tonight, I light myself a candle; maybe one day, I'll finally learn to run away from a girl made of disasters and not towards her.
0
Oct 16, 2022
Oct 16, 2022 at 1:39 AM UTC
October
To M. See, I should have kissed you. I should have kissed you when I had the chance to. Should have pulled you closer, stood on my tiptoes, my hand tightly clutching your neck, and kissed you full on the mouth. Should have run my fingers through your spiky hair, smiling as your arms closed around me. I should have found you, the taste of tiramisu still on my lips, and I should have kissed you, giving you a taste of the happiness in a box that you'd handed me so timidly. Your voice still rings loud and clear in my head, I hear it when I read your messages, that distinctive accent, eyebrows raised, cheekbones moving. And that smile, so sly and cunning, your lips slightly upturned. I should have kissed those lips when I had the chance to do so. Then and there, among tears and sporadic, almost desperate hugs, I should have kissed you. When you held on to me for just a little longer, your hug tight, your hands running along my back, I should have traced your lips with mine. I should have sealed that promise with a kiss. "You never see a person only once in a lifetime," you whispered in my ear, your breath tickling me. "That's a promise," I choked on tears, "You hear me, it's a promise." I should have kissed you; instead, I hugged you once again as you held me tightly and rubbed my back. I should have just reached out. Fate or whatever mystical force there is ******* us up pretty badly. If only I'd met you earlier. If only I'd known you before I got mixed up with the wrong person. I wish we'd had more time. I wish I'd done a lot of things differently. My heart drops in my stomach every time you say you miss me. Your voice will fade away. I won't be able to conjure up your face without looking at pictures, and all your familiar features will be blurred by time and memory. The ephemeral imprint of your skin against mine will soon be gone forever. My heart will grow cold. The taste of tiramisu will linger, though. Always in the back of my mind, the unanswered question of what it would be like to taste it from your lips. Have tiramisu some time. I hope it tastes like me. You never see a person only once in a lifetime, but perhaps you only have one chance to kiss. I should have kissed you.
0
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 7:22 AM UTC
Messages I Never Sent Pt.1
To M. See, I should have kissed you. I should have kissed you when I had the chance to. Should have pulled you closer, stood on my tiptoes, my hand tightly clutching your neck, and kissed you full on the mouth. Should have run my fingers through your spiky hair, smiling as your arms closed around me. I should have found you, the taste of tiramisu still on my lips, and I should have kissed you, giving you a taste of the happiness in a box that you'd handed me so timidly. Your voice still rings loud and clear in my head, I hear it when I read your messages, that distinctive accent, eyebrows raised, cheekbones moving. And that smile, so sly and cunning, your lips slightly upturned. I should have kissed those lips when I had the chance to do so. Then and there, among tears and sporadic, almost desperate hugs, I should have kissed you. When you held on to me for just a little longer, your hug tight, your hands running along my back, I should have traced your lips with mine. I should have sealed that promise with a kiss. "You never see a person only once in a lifetime," you whispered in my ear, your breath tickling me. "That's a promise," I choked on tears, "You hear me, it's a promise." I should have kissed you; instead, I hugged you once again as you held me tightly and rubbed my back. I should have just reached out. Fate or whatever mystical force there is ******* us up pretty badly. If only I'd met you earlier. If only I'd known you before I got mixed up with the wrong person. I wish we'd had more time. I wish I'd done a lot of things differently. My heart drops in my stomach every time you say you miss me. Your voice will fade away. I won't be able to conjure up your face without looking at pictures, and all your familiar features will be blurred by time and memory. The ephemeral imprint of your skin against mine will soon be gone forever. My heart will grow cold. The taste of tiramisu will linger, though. Always in the back of my mind, the unanswered question of what it would be like to taste it from your lips. Have tiramisu some time. I hope it tastes like me. You never see a person only once in a lifetime, but perhaps you only have one chance to kiss. I should have kissed you.
Continue reading...
9
You round up because what difference is a quarter of a inch Heels, depending on the size, will make you the average height Leggings and sweats will bunch at your ankles Shirts become dresses, but only for you Dress hems hit the floor, but only for you **** skirts become **** dresses Having to hem every single pair of jeans Sleeves. Sleeves are far too long "Petite" clothing doesn't fit either Step stools are your best friend Jumping for something that's just out of reach works too Constantly being mistaken for a 16 year old (Even if you are turning 20 this year) Being used as an armrest by someone who thinks they're funny Stuck in the front for every group photo There's that awkward height difference between you and everyone Standing on tiptoes and having the guy lean down for a kiss You hate sports that require tall people, like volleyball and basketball And yet, you wouldn't change your height for the world
0
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 6:51 PM UTC
The Woes of a Short Girl: A Memior
... new moon "just let me sleep," moon eaten my absence upsets all. Look at me, really look at me, stare up at the belly of a loved sky, watch fingers dipping into bowls of blood holding hope, feeling around for a sliver, of sweet milk, of relief, of anything; new moon whispers on the dead bodies left behind, god sighs--- he knows; "I am not the same" waxing crescent map out my wreckage, my skeleton of poetry; in the spines of books loved by mankind, bury me there in a pages of flowers--- in the altitude of words; read me with a hunger you have never known before, over and over; whenever it seems fit~ like the light of the moon is a cigarette. smoking, he's always smoking now. god takes another drag; he describes to me: *"You could be my bible, you book of blood"* I can't stand smoke... "I have no business in being your  holy snakeskin." first quarter I've been searching for solid ground, solid shadows, a solid compromise; I wanted a little more than ordinary love from him so I asked him where the static began, for me it's below my bottom left rib and found that it was also where the spiders started too. Time, that quiet thing obeys god, only because it waits for no one it loves unzipping the law of alchemy, cause ink flowered in my blood again; I should thank time it was this saving kind of grace; always has been god stroked my hair this time and said quietly: *"You see, the saddest thing is realizing that there's nothing more they can do for you"* waxing gibbous Oh, where's my love? Is it in the fever I call happiness, is it in the sword my mama raised me to be Is it in the way the moon tiptoes closer when he says my name in that beautiful way he does or breaks my name over his teeth like it's just glass apples God doesn't even look at me he doesn't have to; "Do you believe in angels?" the wreckage answers him "not lately" full moon And it begins again I watch as he just looks away and says it's fine it hurts god narrows his eyes but shrugs "Pain had other plans for you." I breathe out raggedly; ***"I guess, if there's no key then I'll just swallow the whole door."*** ...
0
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 9:30 PM UTC
Icarus (Moon Version)
... new moon "just let me sleep," moon eaten my absence upsets all. Look at me, really look at me, stare up at the belly of a loved sky, watch fingers dipping into bowls of blood holding hope, feeling around for a sliver, of sweet milk, of relief, of anything; new moon whispers on the dead bodies left behind, god sighs--- he knows; "I am not the same" waxing crescent map out my wreckage, my skeleton of poetry; in the spines of books loved by mankind, bury me there in a pages of flowers--- in the altitude of words; read me with a hunger you have never known before, over and over; whenever it seems fit~ like the light of the moon is a cigarette. smoking, he's always smoking now. god takes another drag; he describes to me: *"You could be my bible, you book of blood"* I can't stand smoke... "I have no business in being your  holy snakeskin." first quarter I've been searching for solid ground, solid shadows, a solid compromise; I wanted a little more than ordinary love from him so I asked him where the static began, for me it's below my bottom left rib and found that it was also where the spiders started too. Time, that quiet thing obeys god, only because it waits for no one it loves unzipping the law of alchemy, cause ink flowered in my blood again; I should thank time it was this saving kind of grace; always has been god stroked my hair this time and said quietly: *"You see, the saddest thing is realizing that there's nothing more they can do for you"* waxing gibbous Oh, where's my love? Is it in the fever I call happiness, is it in the sword my mama raised me to be Is it in the way the moon tiptoes closer when he says my name in that beautiful way he does or breaks my name over his teeth like it's just glass apples God doesn't even look at me he doesn't have to; "Do you believe in angels?" the wreckage answers him "not lately" full moon And it begins again I watch as he just looks away and says it's fine it hurts god narrows his eyes but shrugs "Pain had other plans for you." I breathe out raggedly; ***"I guess, if there's no key then I'll just swallow the whole door."*** ...
Continue reading...
86