"uncrackable" poems
I've grown up so scared
in the past.
Forced to grow in habitats unknown
to myself or friends.
I feel within every fibre of
my being; the aching boredom of
being awake.
My body holds so much sadness,
but under layers of skin
and muscle and deep
cuts there is a softness
needed to be rediscovered.
I only mean well, but
when scared, I say things
that upset people in the hopes
of pushing them away
yet pulling them closer.
My shell is tough and uncrackable,
but if trusted, I poke my head out
now and again to show you
a smile
or a tear,
once in a while.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC
I have given
myself for free
warm and unblanching
like heartbeats
or sunlight
far too long
and found myself
dirt poor
so…
I am practicing
being mysterious
cool and uncrackable
like alabaster
or diamonds
or anything else
precious
no one can touch
without paying
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 1:54 AM UTC
Winter comes and so do I
we started out with your hand on my thigh
then we got high
and (I'm) leaving without saying goodbye
because who the **** is still warm when its this cold and why are you still holding me when I'm colder?
I need alcohol
my cheeks flushed and your breath warm
why do my hands shake all the time
while yours stay warm and still
mocking me
knowing I get lost in the heat.
I bet cold is uncrackable
you shatter me with a kiss.
Why play games when you can just kiss?
Why be gentle with a boy with warm fists?
Why cover bruises you told him to make?
Why have feelings when you can have him
God I love to touch and tear your skin
who the **** let you in?
Who the **** said you could look at me like that?
Hate always welcomes me back.
Winter let's me in.
Flames beg to reside in my lips and skin.
You think I cannot burn?
You think my eyes are soft because there blue?
I'll slit your throat with a look
I'll match my lipstick color to the blood.
Just because my cheeks and my alcohol is warm doesn't mean I am.
Let me tell you a story about the time I fell (in love).
Let me tell you a story about how I became the cold of the ground I fell on in winter when you told me I was to young to love so deeply and that because of it I'll always be hurting
But now let me tell you about what I do to stay cold
I'm always getting over someone
underneath another on their sheets in their bed because if I can't stay well my scent will
and if he can't remember me
your bed will remember my shape
and your walls liked my silence and my moans
You liked my golden hair.
The only part of me I allowed to hold light.
I could make you love me
if I wasn't already in love (with the way you **** me)
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
Connections laced on a thin fibre of hair, diminishing,
a once felt happiness fades away like waves,
a true passion inside, fire burning, unfinishing.
Honesty buried deep within the dirt of earth,
scarse to find a willing person to bare thier soul,
thier subconscious awareness searches for thier worth.
Mazed thoughts unable to reach the end,
a complex puzzle, an uncrackable safe,
a decadent direction of a willing faith.
A stressful peace unheard off,
like a light to a moth, a frail confused mind.
a seared picture on a glazed eyelense,
Unable to let go of such inadequate thoughts.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 9:34 PM UTC