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Words
"veins" poems
Clothes have outgrown me many times over, but this sadness never does. One size. fits all. There should have been an obituary for cancer,  not you. Wishing these slits within my skin could have been replaced by a reality check from you, “You chose to exist.” My name causes a sigh to escape from lips, that do not feel like they belong to me, the girl, whose words always had to be special. The schematics of hospitals like a birthmark in my brain, born into sadness, a gut feeling as a child. Never trusting time due to what it delivers. Death, being the only thing I desired. But you,  who I love, endlessly- robbed by it. Whose ebb for life glowed so feverishly. Stopped comparing depression to lace, restricted the belief that suicide is poetic, seeing things as they were. More often than not, applauded for feeling emotions deeply. Every second that dies, the shift of my heart quakes. This world is not tender. II. Sad. I have known the flowers I wanted at my own premature funeral, knowing how many bouquets honored you that day. split open my veins like a dimension reminiscent of days where I anticipated deathbeds. My family wondered, can we make it through another day? Death scares me for what it has taken, yet, I’m not afraid to die- it’s all I deserve. So I await the day pain erupts from my throat, acknowledging the days a soul lived inside of my body- footprints that walked, belonging to me. But I learned so well. How to suffer with a smile, dreading the beating of my heart how unfair— I don’t want to take these deep breaths You deserved,while I masquerade as a member of the undead Never outgrowing the desire to rot with the phantoms residing under my bed. III. Jokes played by the universe. punchlines delivered, how could anyone to stand to be in the same room as myself? How could anyone look over skyscrapers and sunsets, and not be infatuated with concrete consuming them? How I shared a sigh of relief during the thought- of knowing people would thrive without me, or the power of a belly laugh, resembling a laugh track audience drowning out 3 AM suicidal thoughts.
0
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 11:23 PM UTC
nucherub
Writing Suicide Notes In Gel Pen
Clothes have outgrown me many times over, but this sadness never does. One size. fits all. There should have been an obituary for cancer,  not you. Wishing these slits within my skin could have been replaced by a reality check from you, “You chose to exist.” My name causes a sigh to escape from lips, that do not feel like they belong to me, the girl, whose words always had to be special. The schematics of hospitals like a birthmark in my brain, born into sadness, a gut feeling as a child. Never trusting time due to what it delivers. Death, being the only thing I desired. But you,  who I love, endlessly- robbed by it. Whose ebb for life glowed so feverishly. Stopped comparing depression to lace, restricted the belief that suicide is poetic, seeing things as they were. More often than not, applauded for feeling emotions deeply. Every second that dies, the shift of my heart quakes. This world is not tender. II. Sad. I have known the flowers I wanted at my own premature funeral, knowing how many bouquets honored you that day. split open my veins like a dimension reminiscent of days where I anticipated deathbeds. My family wondered, can we make it through another day? Death scares me for what it has taken, yet, I’m not afraid to die- it’s all I deserve. So I await the day pain erupts from my throat, acknowledging the days a soul lived inside of my body- footprints that walked, belonging to me. But I learned so well. How to suffer with a smile, dreading the beating of my heart how unfair— I don’t want to take these deep breaths You deserved,while I masquerade as a member of the undead Never outgrowing the desire to rot with the phantoms residing under my bed. III. Jokes played by the universe. punchlines delivered, how could anyone to stand to be in the same room as myself? How could anyone look over skyscrapers and sunsets, and not be infatuated with concrete consuming them? How I shared a sigh of relief during the thought- of knowing people would thrive without me, or the power of a belly laugh, resembling a laugh track audience drowning out 3 AM suicidal thoughts.
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60
if ever you wonder if ever your heart should grow curious for lust and love and spirit electricity that splits the spine a jolt of lightening rushing through wide open veins baby hairs standing on end on the nape of your neck a wave of cold sweat dripping through your hair moistens your back if ever a moment passes if ever you refrain from yelling loud sing a melody scream “i love you” skip through a crowd of people and smile laugh dance and forget your worry the temporary madness of yesterday because you are static, ecstatic you are wonderful
0
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
netanya
for the broken
if ever you wonder if ever your heart should grow curious for lust and love and spirit electricity that splits the spine a jolt of lightening rushing through wide open veins baby hairs standing on end on the nape of your neck a wave of cold sweat dripping through your hair moistens your back if ever a moment passes if ever you refrain from yelling loud sing a melody scream “i love you” skip through a crowd of people and smile laugh dance and forget your worry the temporary madness of yesterday because you are static, ecstatic you are wonderful
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23
Break my bones; cut my throat. Pull me open, learn the ropes. Breath me in; taste the fear. Shank my skin; stand and cheer. Kick my head; let me bleed. Unbolt my veins; enjoy the read. Gouge my eyes; punch my face. Wrap me up in your embrace.
0
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 8:58 AM UTC
RupertPip
gore
Break my bones; cut my throat. Pull me open, learn the ropes. Breath me in; taste the fear. Shank my skin; stand and cheer. Kick my head; let me bleed. Unbolt my veins; enjoy the read. Gouge my eyes; punch my face. Wrap me up in your embrace.
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16
Love at first sight, I love your frame. My lust takes aim, try with all my might, to push your button like a game. I use my tongue, to twist a knot, in your throat; like a rope. I'm dope to your veins -- I ignite your flames with a passion untamed; hope to bare your passion fruit peeling your flesh back until you wear my body like a name. sip'n' lick your juices until your drained I knew you would come, and i'm glad your came. i love when you scream, your roll your tongue in my name.
0
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 9:59 PM UTC
Styles
Tasteless
Love at first sight, I love your frame. My lust takes aim, try with all my might, to push your button like a game. I use my tongue, to twist a knot, in your throat; like a rope. I'm dope to your veins -- I ignite your flames with a passion untamed; hope to bare your passion fruit peeling your flesh back until you wear my body like a name. sip'n' lick your juices until your drained I knew you would come, and i'm glad your came. i love when you scream, your roll your tongue in my name.
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17
i’ve given up on days that begin in late afternoon, skipped breakfast and lunch, days that fade slowly and end with ****** cut-out holes in eyelids because the second i close them and it all goes black, every moment with you comes back played on fast-forward, the memories moving so quickly that both our faces are blurred and it feels like everything i’ve ever felt for you is overflowing the tub, filling the washroom with suds that take forever to melt i’ve given up on those days. i’ve traded them for ones that begin with sunrises instead of sunsets, days that are spent falling forward instead of trying to chase the past, and i don’t look back and see something broken, or something that was better off left unopened i look back and see our bodies so close together that you can’t tell where yours begins and mine ends, i see my heart that grew twenty-three times its size, i see you and me wrapped up in something that i didn’t know existed outside of blurry 35 mm and overdue and falling-apart library books that sit on the nightstands of middle-aged women who are bored with their lives and i’m just so happy i got to love you at all. but i’ve folded up all the days spent with you and taped them in the messy pages of my journal and now i’m running into the sun, running away from every lie that’s trying to wedge its way in between my ribs, running in the opposite direction of words like "regret" and any feeling that insists that none of it was worth it because all of it was worth it. every moment we were together pumps through my veins, and it will always be there; it will be there when we’ve both graduated, when you move out west, when you kiss your family goodnight, when you sit in your backyard with tears in your eyes because you’ve lived a life you are proud of it will be there when i finally make it to new york city, when i kiss someone who isn’t you, when i find the answers you inspired me to search for, when i sit on my rooftop with tears on my cheeks because i’ve lived a life fuller than i could’ve ever imagined and you and i will live these lives apart, we’ll move on and forget what it felt like to wake up beside one another; we’ll find what we’re looking for elsewhere and we’ll understand why this all had to happen the way that it did but what we had will always exist somewhere, in rotting apples and old mail and unplayed mix CDs, in mosaics that line the city streets, in sirens and red and white flashing lights that shine through your window while you are asleep you and i were magic, we always will be.
0
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 11:25 PM UTC
madisen
atoms
i’ve given up on days that begin in late afternoon, skipped breakfast and lunch, days that fade slowly and end with ****** cut-out holes in eyelids because the second i close them and it all goes black, every moment with you comes back played on fast-forward, the memories moving so quickly that both our faces are blurred and it feels like everything i’ve ever felt for you is overflowing the tub, filling the washroom with suds that take forever to melt i’ve given up on those days. i’ve traded them for ones that begin with sunrises instead of sunsets, days that are spent falling forward instead of trying to chase the past, and i don’t look back and see something broken, or something that was better off left unopened i look back and see our bodies so close together that you can’t tell where yours begins and mine ends, i see my heart that grew twenty-three times its size, i see you and me wrapped up in something that i didn’t know existed outside of blurry 35 mm and overdue and falling-apart library books that sit on the nightstands of middle-aged women who are bored with their lives and i’m just so happy i got to love you at all. but i’ve folded up all the days spent with you and taped them in the messy pages of my journal and now i’m running into the sun, running away from every lie that’s trying to wedge its way in between my ribs, running in the opposite direction of words like "regret" and any feeling that insists that none of it was worth it because all of it was worth it. every moment we were together pumps through my veins, and it will always be there; it will be there when we’ve both graduated, when you move out west, when you kiss your family goodnight, when you sit in your backyard with tears in your eyes because you’ve lived a life you are proud of it will be there when i finally make it to new york city, when i kiss someone who isn’t you, when i find the answers you inspired me to search for, when i sit on my rooftop with tears on my cheeks because i’ve lived a life fuller than i could’ve ever imagined and you and i will live these lives apart, we’ll move on and forget what it felt like to wake up beside one another; we’ll find what we’re looking for elsewhere and we’ll understand why this all had to happen the way that it did but what we had will always exist somewhere, in rotting apples and old mail and unplayed mix CDs, in mosaics that line the city streets, in sirens and red and white flashing lights that shine through your window while you are asleep you and i were magic, we always will be.
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60
Fingers sinking deep                below your surface;                seeping into your *****                caressing your crevices.                leaving their mark; baring pleasure.                coursing ecstasy through your veins.            searching for the highest of peeks beyond measure                scorching heat, blood boiling, the pleasure pains                soothing your aching flesh                in relentless pursuit; of higher depths                guilty yearnings, urges run rampant                as your ecstasy starts to progress                heavy breathing your hands held abreast                pungent liquids; drenched with desire                a seeping puddle stains the mattress                gingerly leaking, outlining your canvas                 a mist in the air, cooling your skin;
0
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 9:55 PM UTC
Styles
Butterfly
Fingers sinking deep                below your surface;                seeping into your *****                caressing your crevices.                leaving their mark; baring pleasure.                coursing ecstasy through your veins.            searching for the highest of peeks beyond measure                scorching heat, blood boiling, the pleasure pains                soothing your aching flesh                in relentless pursuit; of higher depths                guilty yearnings, urges run rampant                as your ecstasy starts to progress                heavy breathing your hands held abreast                pungent liquids; drenched with desire                a seeping puddle stains the mattress                gingerly leaking, outlining your canvas                 a mist in the air, cooling your skin;
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17
I'm here sitting alone, the smell of coffee runs through my veins, some music i probably will forget in a few years arguing with the thought of you, But I'm here, I'm here, writing about what's happening pretty boring huh? i call myself a poet but i can't use high metaphors, i call myself a poet but i can't describe fully how you make me feel i call myself a poet but what am i? I'm just a kid scared of life finding new ways to cope searching for someone to love, desperate, not holding unto my dreams how can i choose with my mind what's right for the heart to choose. and you see? don't you see? don't worry i can't either i can't see how great i am i can't see how other people see me i wish i could. i want to believe this was a dream or a nightmare at that. But at last. I'm here wishing that in another life i could be with you, or maybe in other deaths, i crave your touch, i crave you.. with coffee waking up my senses like a kid in summer waking up early to go play with his friends. i wish things were different, so i wouldn't have to wish.
0
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 8:13 PM UTC
DaniJustDani
I call myself a poet
I'm here sitting alone, the smell of coffee runs through my veins, some music i probably will forget in a few years arguing with the thought of you, But I'm here, I'm here, writing about what's happening pretty boring huh? i call myself a poet but i can't use high metaphors, i call myself a poet but i can't describe fully how you make me feel i call myself a poet but what am i? I'm just a kid scared of life finding new ways to cope searching for someone to love, desperate, not holding unto my dreams how can i choose with my mind what's right for the heart to choose. and you see? don't you see? don't worry i can't either i can't see how great i am i can't see how other people see me i wish i could. i want to believe this was a dream or a nightmare at that. But at last. I'm here wishing that in another life i could be with you, or maybe in other deaths, i crave your touch, i crave you.. with coffee waking up my senses like a kid in summer waking up early to go play with his friends. i wish things were different, so i wouldn't have to wish.
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47
They rest all over whilst I was rooted to the ground, the water acting like superglue as my limbs stretched out. Towards the clumps of land rods of steal and wood weaved, to connect and ***** that which we call humanity. But there were abuse on the rods formed by hands who'd calloused hearts, poison coursing through their veins, but not a single thought was given for they were innocent in their brain. Said limbs and rods spiraled out, as nothing was left to chance, intertwining everyone's destiny in majestic flare and grace, grand like a ballerina's dance. But the poison was too corrosive, the termites were too much, as everything eroded, imploded, crumbled and buried under mounds of earth. But today is different, a new beginning, a new life. As if the gods have willed something better to arrive. Indeed they came: Ports forged from purity anew, where fresh legs are delivered and old legs whisked away. For no matter how dark it was, is, will be, even during the night, there always is and will be a pip of light.
0
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 7:46 AM UTC
xxxxx3
A Gift of What Was and What Will
They rest all over whilst I was rooted to the ground, the water acting like superglue as my limbs stretched out. Towards the clumps of land rods of steal and wood weaved, to connect and ***** that which we call humanity. But there were abuse on the rods formed by hands who'd calloused hearts, poison coursing through their veins, but not a single thought was given for they were innocent in their brain. Said limbs and rods spiraled out, as nothing was left to chance, intertwining everyone's destiny in majestic flare and grace, grand like a ballerina's dance. But the poison was too corrosive, the termites were too much, as everything eroded, imploded, crumbled and buried under mounds of earth. But today is different, a new beginning, a new life. As if the gods have willed something better to arrive. Indeed they came: Ports forged from purity anew, where fresh legs are delivered and old legs whisked away. For no matter how dark it was, is, will be, even during the night, there always is and will be a pip of light.
Continue reading...
36
A friend asked me how to be a writer. I wanted to say, lock yourself in a room, scream until you have a poem and no voice. Open your veins and bleed until you know that your bones are pure words and sorrow. Act as if you slit your own throat and all you can bleed are your own regrets and all of the darkness you boxed up for inspiration. Write your mom a letter, tell her you're leaving and you won't be back for awhile Because being a writer is traveling through all seven layers of Hell and denying anything is wrong. Forget loving yourself when all you have is a pen and paper fused to your wrist and Jesus is tapping at your skull saying turn back now. Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning It's just your soul clawing at the front door trying to get in. Learn how to be alone. Learn how to lose everything you have in order to feel release, learn how to only feel deceased from now on. A friend asked me how to be a writer. All I said was don't
0
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 2:29 PM UTC
onlyally
How to Be a Writer
A friend asked me how to be a writer. I wanted to say, lock yourself in a room, scream until you have a poem and no voice. Open your veins and bleed until you know that your bones are pure words and sorrow. Act as if you slit your own throat and all you can bleed are your own regrets and all of the darkness you boxed up for inspiration. Write your mom a letter, tell her you're leaving and you won't be back for awhile Because being a writer is traveling through all seven layers of Hell and denying anything is wrong. Forget loving yourself when all you have is a pen and paper fused to your wrist and Jesus is tapping at your skull saying turn back now. Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning It's just your soul clawing at the front door trying to get in. Learn how to be alone. Learn how to lose everything you have in order to feel release, learn how to only feel deceased from now on. A friend asked me how to be a writer. All I said was don't
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37
I am black coffee with curves of sugar. I am a spoon of chocolate I am soul food I am a wombed man The rib of an african king The golden crown of the cosmos. I am full moon or a sunset I am light, I am a spark, a flame, a bonfire, I am fire works. I’ll leave traces of smoke in your nostrils., Just so you’ll recognize my presence when you’re seeking me. I’ll shelter myself between your veins just to make your heart beat a little faster. I am the revolution of love. I am a silenced desire.
0
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 12:37 PM UTC
exhale-your-mind
Description of a Melanin Goddess
I am black coffee with curves of sugar. I am a spoon of chocolate I am soul food I am a wombed man The rib of an african king The golden crown of the cosmos. I am full moon or a sunset I am light, I am a spark, a flame, a bonfire, I am fire works. I’ll leave traces of smoke in your nostrils., Just so you’ll recognize my presence when you’re seeking me. I’ll shelter myself between your veins just to make your heart beat a little faster. I am the revolution of love. I am a silenced desire.
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17
The aching she endures in her waking feelings of her body quaking to sounds of his voice she quivers Excitement racing through her veins like lightening An unbearable desire rushing through her so exciting entranced by his spell, his words so enticing with his pleasure she welcomes his pain feels like torture. she yearns for more her body aching for his taking her fantasies he made belief engorging her soul her urges he feeds with his selfish needs either way they are both left, pleased.
0
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 7:36 PM UTC
Styles
Erotica
The aching she endures in her waking feelings of her body quaking to sounds of his voice she quivers Excitement racing through her veins like lightening An unbearable desire rushing through her so exciting entranced by his spell, his words so enticing with his pleasure she welcomes his pain feels like torture. she yearns for more her body aching for his taking her fantasies he made belief engorging her soul her urges he feeds with his selfish needs either way they are both left, pleased.
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21
Now you have to understand that the greatest gift a child can receive is a sibling. Wrapped up in that hospital delivery is limitless potential. They can be your partner in crime, or the key witness in your conviction. A sibling fights the same battles you do just with different tactics. Some prefer to pit mom against dad others dad against mom. No one will ever walk the earth as close to you. Part of the DNA that makes you unique flows in their veins. Even if circumstances change that bond can’t be broken. They will annoy you, steal from you, drive you crazy, and if you’re lucky enough hate you. And yet they are your best friend, confidant, and the person who if you’re unfortunate enough will go to hell and back as fast for you as you would do for them. So to all the siblings out there. May you be playmates in adversity and friendly rivals in joy
0
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
donald-charles-mark-keys
Siblings
Now you have to understand that the greatest gift a child can receive is a sibling. Wrapped up in that hospital delivery is limitless potential. They can be your partner in crime, or the key witness in your conviction. A sibling fights the same battles you do just with different tactics. Some prefer to pit mom against dad others dad against mom. No one will ever walk the earth as close to you. Part of the DNA that makes you unique flows in their veins. Even if circumstances change that bond can’t be broken. They will annoy you, steal from you, drive you crazy, and if you’re lucky enough hate you. And yet they are your best friend, confidant, and the person who if you’re unfortunate enough will go to hell and back as fast for you as you would do for them. So to all the siblings out there. May you be playmates in adversity and friendly rivals in joy
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16
My lips have always craved the taste of danger. Maybe it is because I don't know what's good for me or I'm in love with the high I get from it The high that takes me to the heavens, surpassing the pillow-like clouds resting against the azure canvas I remember the taste so vividly, I salivate at the thought of it It's sweet like candy, the sugary goodness rushing inside my veins delicately coating my tongue bites between my teeth explode into a thousand little pieces, dancing inside my mouth Your succulent lips pressed against mine, remind me of the taste of summer strawberries, juicy and tender with citrusy undertones we're kissing like there's no tomorrow Oh how I feel your lips part from mine, then touch and part again the way the clouds greet the sky Before a rainy afternoon How can something so bad taste this good? Oh I'm convinced your kisses are a drug Nice to play with, but toxic to the mind Kissing you must be equivalent to intoxication shockwaves through my body, the paralyzing euphoria I don't think I could ever give you up This addiction is taking control
0
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 3:34 PM UTC
QueenChrissy
Taste
My lips have always craved the taste of danger. Maybe it is because I don't know what's good for me or I'm in love with the high I get from it The high that takes me to the heavens, surpassing the pillow-like clouds resting against the azure canvas I remember the taste so vividly, I salivate at the thought of it It's sweet like candy, the sugary goodness rushing inside my veins delicately coating my tongue bites between my teeth explode into a thousand little pieces, dancing inside my mouth Your succulent lips pressed against mine, remind me of the taste of summer strawberries, juicy and tender with citrusy undertones we're kissing like there's no tomorrow Oh how I feel your lips part from mine, then touch and part again the way the clouds greet the sky Before a rainy afternoon How can something so bad taste this good? Oh I'm convinced your kisses are a drug Nice to play with, but toxic to the mind Kissing you must be equivalent to intoxication shockwaves through my body, the paralyzing euphoria I don't think I could ever give you up This addiction is taking control
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30
*The word disappointment weighs heavy inside my mind It hangs on my shoulders like an anchor It seeps from my pores and causes blood to run from my veins The girl in the mirror stands hollow and emptied by the world lost in the desolation of space and time she does not feel warmth; she cant even will hot tears to flow from her eyes she is left in silence- with the word 'disappointment' haunting her thoughts*
0
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 5:01 PM UTC
Feedmetosharks
Disappointment
*The word disappointment weighs heavy inside my mind It hangs on my shoulders like an anchor It seeps from my pores and causes blood to run from my veins The girl in the mirror stands hollow and emptied by the world lost in the desolation of space and time she does not feel warmth; she cant even will hot tears to flow from her eyes she is left in silence- with the word 'disappointment' haunting her thoughts*
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10
The white man, can't say the word ***** They say because its offensive, it's rude, but I know the real reason why. I know, because that's what I am; a ****** Born as a ****** lived as ****** I know why the white man can't say the word ****** They say that it makes no sense for the blacks to use this insulting, disgusting term for themselves, but only because they don't know the true meaning. We bear the name as a scar, as a reminder of what we fought, of what we were. We bear the name as a reminder of our ancestors, and their long hot days in the cotton fields, picking until their finger tips were raw with blood, whipped until their skin was indistinguishable from the raw fleshy pulp that was their aggravated flesh laced with the crimson nectar of their veins. We bear the name, to remind ourselves, that even amidst all this we lived. We fought our way through the darkness of the tunnel. We bear our scar, to remind us, to remind you, that we survived, that we are survivors. I bear the name, I bear the scar of a ****** That is why we call ourselves the name ****** It is our word of honor, our mark of surviving. The white man is not worthy enough to call me a ******
0
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 9:46 AM UTC
mystery-manva
*****
The white man, can't say the word ***** They say because its offensive, it's rude, but I know the real reason why. I know, because that's what I am; a ****** Born as a ****** lived as ****** I know why the white man can't say the word ****** They say that it makes no sense for the blacks to use this insulting, disgusting term for themselves, but only because they don't know the true meaning. We bear the name as a scar, as a reminder of what we fought, of what we were. We bear the name as a reminder of our ancestors, and their long hot days in the cotton fields, picking until their finger tips were raw with blood, whipped until their skin was indistinguishable from the raw fleshy pulp that was their aggravated flesh laced with the crimson nectar of their veins. We bear the name, to remind ourselves, that even amidst all this we lived. We fought our way through the darkness of the tunnel. We bear our scar, to remind us, to remind you, that we survived, that we are survivors. I bear the name, I bear the scar of a ****** That is why we call ourselves the name ****** It is our word of honor, our mark of surviving. The white man is not worthy enough to call me a ******
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1
Favorite color yellow. Yellow means healing. Broken veins Not all caused by "bumps" into now bent lockers
0
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
Greyson-fay
Yellow
Favorite color yellow. Yellow means healing. Broken veins Not all caused by "bumps" into now bent lockers
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4
Lovesick and you've got the cure. Got all these symptoms. You know what for. Don't be afraid of this contagious disease, Just take my requisition form. I've made room for you in my atria and ventricle. You're the capillary to my arteriole and venule. You're the amniotic fluid to the child in my heart. I find you even in the interstitial parts. Treatment like uours is like a centrifugAl force. So be the **** stasis my heart is longing for. Some homeostasis is what we need. We will make compromises to succeed. Lay me supine and you in prone. Sensory neurons fire Exocrine glands make to pressure Spark endocrine glands to hear you moan. Without your heart I'd be anemic. Withiutbyour arms I'd be half a paraplegic. Your kisses give me air, without them I'm cyatonic. You're the fibrin in my veins, to my pain an anesthetic. I'm ready for some long-term care and affection. Got a chronic condition that needs your attention. I k now I'm concluded, parts of me sclerosed. Don't wait post mortem to know that you're the most.
0
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 3:51 PM UTC
madzq
a medical love letter
Lovesick and you've got the cure. Got all these symptoms. You know what for. Don't be afraid of this contagious disease, Just take my requisition form. I've made room for you in my atria and ventricle. You're the capillary to my arteriole and venule. You're the amniotic fluid to the child in my heart. I find you even in the interstitial parts. Treatment like uours is like a centrifugAl force. So be the **** stasis my heart is longing for. Some homeostasis is what we need. We will make compromises to succeed. Lay me supine and you in prone. Sensory neurons fire Exocrine glands make to pressure Spark endocrine glands to hear you moan. Without your heart I'd be anemic. Withiutbyour arms I'd be half a paraplegic. Your kisses give me air, without them I'm cyatonic. You're the fibrin in my veins, to my pain an anesthetic. I'm ready for some long-term care and affection. Got a chronic condition that needs your attention. I k now I'm concluded, parts of me sclerosed. Don't wait post mortem to know that you're the most.
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24
can you ***** my finger and measure the dopamine in my veins? collect my teardrops and tell me if i'm going to be okay? can you light up the darkness with magical pills? decide if i'm too sad to go to school? can you tell me if i'm just being melodramatic? measure my blood pressure, maybe that will work. write me a prescription for 5 Happy Days in a row, and 3 hugs from Someone I Love. doctor, doctor i'm not feeling well today doctor, doctor i don't know if i should stay sadness isn't a sickness, but it's infected my mind. can you write me some antibiotics to get them out in time? sadness isn't sickness, but i think i might've caught something from doing a little too much of Having No Friends. don't you know how much i've been Laying In Bed? sadness isn't sickness, but i think i'm coming down doctor, doctor i've got a severe case of the I Don't Want To Lives can you write me a prescription? make it go away? doctor, doctor you've let me down this time doctor, doctor i'm not in my prime can you tell that i'm not healthy? 'cause i don't think you can oh, sadness isn't sickness, but it's fatal, if all goes according to plan
0
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
9999
doctor, doctor
can you ***** my finger and measure the dopamine in my veins? collect my teardrops and tell me if i'm going to be okay? can you light up the darkness with magical pills? decide if i'm too sad to go to school? can you tell me if i'm just being melodramatic? measure my blood pressure, maybe that will work. write me a prescription for 5 Happy Days in a row, and 3 hugs from Someone I Love. doctor, doctor i'm not feeling well today doctor, doctor i don't know if i should stay sadness isn't a sickness, but it's infected my mind. can you write me some antibiotics to get them out in time? sadness isn't sickness, but i think i might've caught something from doing a little too much of Having No Friends. don't you know how much i've been Laying In Bed? sadness isn't sickness, but i think i'm coming down doctor, doctor i've got a severe case of the I Don't Want To Lives can you write me a prescription? make it go away? doctor, doctor you've let me down this time doctor, doctor i'm not in my prime can you tell that i'm not healthy? 'cause i don't think you can oh, sadness isn't sickness, but it's fatal, if all goes according to plan
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23
You are my wind You are my sun The blood in my veins The bones to make me stand I've been drowning And i thought you were my life raft I thought you were my island My safe place to escape But turning away from the water Won't make it go away Running from the sea Won't make it less deep I've grown so used to finding my boat So used to hiding from the tide I panicked when it wasn't there Has my boat sailed away? The panic gave me a cramp Tied weights to me And I began to sink faster How could my boat do this? How could it sail away? But the more I missed my boat The more I needed it to stay But not as safety Not as refuge But a love to share And laugh and grow I still need my boat But not like I did before No more hiding No more dry land I need to swim Because boats are fun And great for days But the sea is a beast That no boat can match No she doesn't care that I'm a mermaid Who fell in love with a fisherman She doesn't care I've spent too much time on dry land I forgot how to use my fins A mermaid that can't swim What a pathetic life it is But she's cruel She wont keep the boats around So don't forget how to swim Don't forget how to use your fins We are strong us mermaids Making deals with sea witches Seducing men to their death All fine folk tales But you have to believe the myth Always been strong Because regardless of what Disney said I can't grow legs I'll always be a mermaid But what use is it if I can't swim When I learn how to swim again I hope my fisherman will come back I hope he hasn't sailed too far away When I'm on deck of our boat again We will dance and sing Maybe have dogs And flowers to remind us of land A piano in the dining room And guitars lining the walls Music will echo They can hear us from land The happy fisher and his happy mermaid Living together again But storms always come Because that's how nature works It rains It snows It storms Than the sun returns This time when the storm comes And makes waves that could touch the moon And I get thrown overboard I won't forget how to swim I'll play with the fish Make friends with sharks And await the return of my beautiful fisherman But you will always be my wind My sun The air in my lungs But soon I will have gills So I can breath when the water comes You can't be my fins anymore You can't be my dry land You can't save me from drowning Because mermaids are free But if you want You can be free with me So please return my beautiful sailor And we can live on our happy boat And I'll be one with the sea Because this sea is a part of me
0
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
lizzy15
My beautiful fisherman
You are my wind You are my sun The blood in my veins The bones to make me stand I've been drowning And i thought you were my life raft I thought you were my island My safe place to escape But turning away from the water Won't make it go away Running from the sea Won't make it less deep I've grown so used to finding my boat So used to hiding from the tide I panicked when it wasn't there Has my boat sailed away? The panic gave me a cramp Tied weights to me And I began to sink faster How could my boat do this? How could it sail away? But the more I missed my boat The more I needed it to stay But not as safety Not as refuge But a love to share And laugh and grow I still need my boat But not like I did before No more hiding No more dry land I need to swim Because boats are fun And great for days But the sea is a beast That no boat can match No she doesn't care that I'm a mermaid Who fell in love with a fisherman She doesn't care I've spent too much time on dry land I forgot how to use my fins A mermaid that can't swim What a pathetic life it is But she's cruel She wont keep the boats around So don't forget how to swim Don't forget how to use your fins We are strong us mermaids Making deals with sea witches Seducing men to their death All fine folk tales But you have to believe the myth Always been strong Because regardless of what Disney said I can't grow legs I'll always be a mermaid But what use is it if I can't swim When I learn how to swim again I hope my fisherman will come back I hope he hasn't sailed too far away When I'm on deck of our boat again We will dance and sing Maybe have dogs And flowers to remind us of land A piano in the dining room And guitars lining the walls Music will echo They can hear us from land The happy fisher and his happy mermaid Living together again But storms always come Because that's how nature works It rains It snows It storms Than the sun returns This time when the storm comes And makes waves that could touch the moon And I get thrown overboard I won't forget how to swim I'll play with the fish Make friends with sharks And await the return of my beautiful fisherman But you will always be my wind My sun The air in my lungs But soon I will have gills So I can breath when the water comes You can't be my fins anymore You can't be my dry land You can't save me from drowning Because mermaids are free But if you want You can be free with me So please return my beautiful sailor And we can live on our happy boat And I'll be one with the sea Because this sea is a part of me
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97
Loving someone else is like loving a whole new universe. Your body is a universe itself. Beyond that, your body has other universes. Your cells, your bones, your veins. Everything has a universe itself. It would be life's greatest gifts to intertwine your universe with mine.
0
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 6:51 PM UTC
emlouise
Universe
Loving someone else is like loving a whole new universe. Your body is a universe itself. Beyond that, your body has other universes. Your cells, your bones, your veins. Everything has a universe itself. It would be life's greatest gifts to intertwine your universe with mine.
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6
I love company In the form of anxious thoughts I am less lonely Accompanied by twenty screaming voices Tearing at my every inch of flesh Pouring pain into my veins Crying is good for the soul They laugh in union As I lie lonely in my bed Hoping someone will find me Bruised and broken And take me into their arms Hold me like a child But you are too grown to feel such things These voices whisper, licking blood Carefully off their fingers Spikes poke at my sides leaving no room For me to move or breathe I am slowly dying And yet I tell you I am fine For if I were to ever admit That this is how I truly feel My demons would take form No longer shadows but figures Ready to take me whole
0
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 4:20 PM UTC
RobinMaraLemmen
Shadows
I love company In the form of anxious thoughts I am less lonely Accompanied by twenty screaming voices Tearing at my every inch of flesh Pouring pain into my veins Crying is good for the soul They laugh in union As I lie lonely in my bed Hoping someone will find me Bruised and broken And take me into their arms Hold me like a child But you are too grown to feel such things These voices whisper, licking blood Carefully off their fingers Spikes poke at my sides leaving no room For me to move or breathe I am slowly dying And yet I tell you I am fine For if I were to ever admit That this is how I truly feel My demons would take form No longer shadows but figures Ready to take me whole
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25
The darker the berry the sweeter the seeds plant them because you sow what you reap. My skin is magical you see...for I am a special kind of breed. When I'm in the sun my melanin boils, plus heat is good for my ***** coils. A shade darker I've just became... From honey brown to a cocoa shade. Time to untwist my bantu knots and free my natural fro. The curly crown of victory as my melanin glows. I strut through the grasslands in tune with my inner goddess. My legs are thick and long, so now its time to flaunt this. shaking my hair from left to right & pump my fist in the air. Wish I was alive in the civil rights, but then I wouldn't be hear. People they envy my complexion, they wish they had my perfection. But honestly you can't hate on something God gave. Melanin queen, you reign in the lands. Zion queen, lets do a foreign dance. Melanin runs within my veins and pores. Melanin I love to be, I'm wading in the shores.
0
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 5:31 PM UTC
PoeticDes
Melanin
The darker the berry the sweeter the seeds plant them because you sow what you reap. My skin is magical you see...for I am a special kind of breed. When I'm in the sun my melanin boils, plus heat is good for my ***** coils. A shade darker I've just became... From honey brown to a cocoa shade. Time to untwist my bantu knots and free my natural fro. The curly crown of victory as my melanin glows. I strut through the grasslands in tune with my inner goddess. My legs are thick and long, so now its time to flaunt this. shaking my hair from left to right & pump my fist in the air. Wish I was alive in the civil rights, but then I wouldn't be hear. People they envy my complexion, they wish they had my perfection. But honestly you can't hate on something God gave. Melanin queen, you reign in the lands. Zion queen, lets do a foreign dance. Melanin runs within my veins and pores. Melanin I love to be, I'm wading in the shores.
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16
Sometimes, I am in love with myself. I force them to witness my love for my melanin because they would love for me to hate my melanin. I know that I am seen, but I want to be heard,  The first amendment allows me to speak, but they refused to hear a word- that comes from my mouth. My lips stereotyped as too black. My diction too proper to act like this, yet my slang is too ghetto to act like that... Sometimes, I wonder what it's like to be white. I hate being stared at when I speak in Spanish. I never know if it's in disgust or in comfort,  because the sound of the double "r" rolling off of my tongue sounds like the ricochet of the bullets they fire from their guns. Since they no longer can enslave us like animals, they slaughter us because, "if I can't have you no one can." I refuse to be put down. I refuse to shutdown. My brown skin threatens, and you all should be afraid. Because I will banish your negativity with my Latin American flow, speaking in Spanish with the Bachata tempo filling my veins. My Ebonics is iconic,  and I refuse to be put in a box when the world is a sphere. I... am more... than this.
0
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 2:16 AM UTC
incxndiary
#blacklivesmatter : Thoughts from a Blatina
Sometimes, I am in love with myself. I force them to witness my love for my melanin because they would love for me to hate my melanin. I know that I am seen, but I want to be heard,  The first amendment allows me to speak, but they refused to hear a word- that comes from my mouth. My lips stereotyped as too black. My diction too proper to act like this, yet my slang is too ghetto to act like that... Sometimes, I wonder what it's like to be white. I hate being stared at when I speak in Spanish. I never know if it's in disgust or in comfort,  because the sound of the double "r" rolling off of my tongue sounds like the ricochet of the bullets they fire from their guns. Since they no longer can enslave us like animals, they slaughter us because, "if I can't have you no one can." I refuse to be put down. I refuse to shutdown. My brown skin threatens, and you all should be afraid. Because I will banish your negativity with my Latin American flow, speaking in Spanish with the Bachata tempo filling my veins. My Ebonics is iconic,  and I refuse to be put in a box when the world is a sphere. I... am more... than this.
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25
from the mind it flows traveling through my veins down my bones. every part of me rages for comfort and ignorance. I erupt, my emotions drain oh I wish I wish I cared less.
0
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC
hidee-makayla
Jealousy
from the mind it flows traveling through my veins down my bones. every part of me rages for comfort and ignorance. I erupt, my emotions drain oh I wish I wish I cared less.
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9