Gabrielle Isa Nov 2017
His "I love you" came swiftly.
Like the monsoon pouring down on a leaky roof
Those three words broke through my defences.
At first they were an ambrosia;
They sustained my life and our relationship.
At least for a short time.

Then "I love you" became an excuse;
For absences, and purpose-filled accidents.
And I ignored the warning signs, the flashing lights.
I pretended like "I love you" was enough...

...But it wasn't.
His "I love you"s were like band-aids on bullet wounds;
Like using play dough to fix cracks in concrete walls.
But I rationed our good memories,
I held on as tight as I could to our love
And watched as it slipped through my fingers.

His "I love you"s became poison
That seeped deep into my bones
And turned blue skies grey,
And turned light into darkness,
And slowly killed whatever semblance of love
I fooled myself into thinking we had left.
Small bumps speckle my body
and I will pick
and pick
and pick
at them until I know for sure
the sludge,
the growths,
and the imperfections
are no more than scabs and dried blood.
At least then I can tell you I got these spots from battling.
Speckled I’m the remince of insecurity
city of flips Aug 10
men and their egos (I turned twenty this summer) are
inseparable
insufferable

begrudgingly
they admit “guess you were right”
believing that will make them heroes,
by full on confessing they are assholes

I turned twenty in the summer

my tan legs in cutoffs (it’s summer) drives them to madness,
accused, you are pitiless, for their dreams of you involve ransom  
still, you
search and quiet plead like Abraham, to the heated air,
while listening to Whitney Houston and Ed Sheeran,
(on your earbuds just so nobody knows your weakness)
for just that one good man in the township of
Sodom and Gomorrah

my mother bitter sneers good luck with that,
forgetting I am now twenty years
so old, so advanced,
that my hopes and aspirations are no longer those
the ones in my high school yearbook

my poetry fills pages,
a human urban renewal,
laying out a city of hope

recalling that Sodom and Gemorrah were destroyed
Liyah Bella Aug 1
so much happened in front of my eyes
so i shut them tight
pretending we were in love
Since she walked away I haven’t known what to do,

With all of my colors that have turned gray–I’ve been left to only feel this color of blue,

As there’s not a shade in this world that could ever replace her hues,

My sight and mind has been left in a haze–and left ever so confused,

With my eyes that stay closed–for I’ve been blinded by the truth,

Wherein the only thing my eyes want to see–will no longer be in my view,

So go ahead and paint my world however you wish and want to,

As you can paint my whole world with the most vibrant and amazing hues,

But until the day that she returns–all my eyes will see is gray and blue
English Jam Jun 14
The air is perfumed with fresh rosemary's
And the wild springs with lush berries
Their presence colours the nursery with a sweet loom
It bleeds into the forecast for tomorrow's gloom
Nostalgia hits hard, heartbreaking and eerie
For a day when I wasn't paranoid and weary
Well, I'll be down by the Brighton pier
Watching birds float past in lonely fear
I'd love to turn away

The pristine sun shines like Hades
The outside scent is yellow, maybe
Little daises laugh in the foreground
Gardens sow a loving sound
Once I could see hope in the trees
And the love that whispered on the breeze
Now the trees foreshadow longing
And the gale howls with wronging
I'd love to turn away

The intimacy in my yellow tinted flowers seems to have faded
And the soft orchards have been invaded
My words burnt in a smouldering pile of dust
And steaming with the heat of my lust
I told a crowd I had something to say
But the people turned away
away
away...
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