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8.7k · Nov 2017
zero Nov 2017
Ashen doves float within the waves,
slinking like silent demons in the night.
They curl around my body,
jaws operating like steel machines,
gnashing at my limbs.
I begin to scream for help,
but they ****** my breath,
they drag me under their tides of black,
unleashing my unremitting fear of water predators.
their teeth, sunken into my flesh,
gnawing at my mind,
painting me my new mortality.

These are my demons,
the sharks in the bath when it comes to hygiene.
the fear of the below and the depths of human mentality,
the untraceable percentage of human worthlessness,
the detestable attraction to the demise of our minds,

I float lower into the aqua,
pressure building,
unforgiving and foreboding
I close my lids, and dream of the sand,
praying it to be underfoot when I open my eyes,
but when my lids open, the doves loom closer.

The irony of a hydrophobe,
dying at the hands of the sharks.
The fear of the ocean is the greatest fear I know.
7.7k · Jul 2018
a teenage mind; explored.
zero Jul 2018
'They're just a teen' gets dropped on the daily.
Like the added couple of letters at the end
determine whether our feelings are valued
or not.
They only ever tell us they're here for us
when someone offs themselves on the train
tracks next to the school. Call this number
if you feel down.
Teenage years are the time to find out who
you are, and maybe I am a depressed mess,
but us Gen Z kids are doing our best to make
sure us sad'ens feel alright.
Sometimes we don't feel alright, and, so what,
if it is just down to hormones and periods,
and Max's muscly shoulders or Louise's
brown eyes.
We are allowed to feel like ****. Cos Teenage
years are the time where we find out life isn't
like animated movies;
that bad guys are defeated and the hero wins;
cos, in the end, sometimes we're our own saboteurs.
And we find out,
sometimes that's okay;  to knock ourselves down will
make us build ourselves up in the grand scheme of
things; I sure as hell know I hate how I feel most days,
and I'm sure most teenagers do.

I'm just a teen;
but I have a loud voice, terrible jokes and
a **** economy to grow into,
and I'm allowed to be mad and cry
and I'm allowed to feel like ****
and want to die
because in the end, I know it'll all
be fine.
Married or alone with wine.
Sometimes life is ****,
and that's okay;
and to me,
that is the teenage dream.
A little mood for July;
Teens explored.

zero Nov 2017
I dreamt all my dreams away on that first night,
I spent them on you.
zero Nov 2017
She's taken your body wash, and used it without permission.
She's used it twice before and
presumed it would be fine to take it again.

You never gave consent.
You even said No.

She's used it twice before so what's a third time,
or a fourth or even a fifth,
she's just hoping you won't snitch and tell someone
she stole something from you...
Your confidence or your peach shampoo?

She lied about the temperature of the bath water,
you were supposed to drown
before you felt the heat,
but you didn't and now you're
tearing your skin to shreds,
Self-destruction on the first date,
how sweet.

She wants you to wash your mouth out,
you said something you shouldn't and now she's mad,
feeling sorry for you is in the past,
the new thing is drowning you in the bath.

Your heads now under water,
feet kicking the floor.
She's doused you with her perfume,
just to see you choke against the wooden frame of the door.
Abuse in calming rooms of peace,
with people you once loved.

Watch out for the screams,
they're muffled underwater.

zero Aug 2018
Sandbox giggles and seesaw chuckles
echo around the park.
Little ones pitter patter on tarmac and grass,
oblivious to their age.
All they know is the sun is shining
and they're going to feel like this forever.

Rubber throwing and hushed whispers
echo around the classroom.
Schoolkids adding and subtracting,
oblivious to their age.
All they know is that they hate math
and they're going to be an astronaut when they grow.

Cheesy pop songs and girly giggles
echo around a bedroom.
She's curling her friend's hair and smiling,
oblivious to her age.
All she knows is that Jake is a cutie
and she's going to marry him when she's 21.

Birthday wishes and lots of love!
echo around the dinner table.
He's having his first beer as an 18-year-old and loving it,
oblivious to his age.
All he knows is that he's going out tonight
and staying up till dawn.

Baby rattles and first words
echo around the house.
The baby is mumbling its first word,
oblivious to the meaning behind it.
All it knows is that its mummy is warm
and it's daddy smells nice.

Memories of sandboxes and summer nights
echo around their heads.
They're laying in a bed in a sanitary place,
oblivious to the current situation.
All they know is that their time is up,
but they had such fun whilst it lasted.
I found out my cousin is 10, not 8 as I remembered.
I held him when he was born...
Time is such a weird thing,
we're oblivious to it's passing,
but in the end, we notice it more than ever.

2.5k · Dec 2017
zero Dec 2017
I can hear you crying through the walls,
the muffled, choking of your feelings.
you're falling apart before my very soul,
and all I can do is knock on your door.
I just want to be your friend again.
Open up to me, Kinac.

zero Jun 2018
Woke up in a rush of light, piercing
my eyes today. Too bright to keep
them closed or open.
I can't find my slippers, eyes rubbed,
yesterdays mascara under eyes
like bruises from lack of sleep;
evidence of my lost mentality.
The Supremes sang Baby Love in the kitchen
on the radio- he never turned it off.
Three balloons;
Happy Birthday!
Drink up!
Hot pinks and purples next to orange walls.
Cards in hues of turquoise and blushes of red;

none are from you,
my dearest friend.
It was my eighteenth birthday today.
Everyone was lovely, but I sobbed for two hours in my room when everyone went for decorations because my best friend didn't send me a message or a card- didn't even give me a quick call.
Best friends, am I right? Forgetful to a fault.
Forgetful to their best friends, when they need them the most.

zero Feb 2018
To My Lover,
my one and always;
the dance hall is empty without
our swing.
Come back to me, darling,
Let us waltz the halls again,
without a care in the world,
except for the fear of stepping on
our toes.

I've loved you since our first touch,
and since then, you have had
my heart in your cold hands,
let me warm them...
come and dance with me.
I want my arms around your waist.

Your hands on my neck.
Chivalry isn't dead.

1.9k · Nov 2017
Hush, wait a while.
zero Nov 2017
And there we sat,
I stroked her hair and she lay across my lap...

we waited for the sky to fall down.
Her and me.

1.7k · Jan 2018
ode to my friends
zero Jan 2018
This is an ode to my friends.
For the ones I've loved since day one
the ones I have learnt to love
and for the ones I hate to love.

This is for my friend,
for the one, I got drunk with first.
We stole a litre bottle of cider and four beers then drank them in the park at midnight.
This is an ode to my friend who cries at parties,
who swears he will die alone.
This is for my friend who laughs at every joke,
the **** and comedian but shakes when no one is looking.

This is an ode to my friends,
for the one who's grandma is dying but they
still, manage to draw on a smile and present a joke.
This is for my friend who has depression,
Or the friend who has anxiety,
and asks me to speak for her at restaurants,

This is an ode to my friends,
who is finally taking control of her body
after being trapped in the wrong one.
For the friend who is scared to leave the house
when it's icy because he might slip and hurt his ***.
For the friend, I fancied till I was sixteen,
and even though it's been years my lips still burn when
I look at her.

This is an ode to my friends who leave me out of conversations.
who have inside jokes they sprout when I'm around
This is for the ones that went to the movies to see the film they knew I was dying to see.
This is an ode to my friend,
who broke her leg whilst dancing in her favourite musical,
and the part was given to someone else.
This is for the friend whose mother died when she was 12
but she remains the strongest person ever.

This is an ode to those who
forget I'm their friend,
who ignore me when they're upset,
who  tell me daily that they love me,
who cry at Disney movies,
who laugh at videos of past times,
who  I hate that I adore,
who  I cry over,
because I can't make them happy anymore.

This is an ode to my friends,
for the one who is so self-conscious, he wears baggy jumpers to hide his stomach.
This is an ode to my friend who has scary parents,
for the friends who made a pyramid out of stones and raised a nation,
for the friends who try their hardest and still achieve nothing,
for my friends the world has seemingly forgotten,

This is an Ode to my friends,
the ones I know I will die loving,
they give me cups of tea with two sugars when I'm having a bad episode,
for the ones that cry when they hear a certain song, because it reminds them of when I tried to off myself in the toilet,
for the one that has never had a kiss,
for the one who refuses to get married.

This is an ode to my friends,
the family I chose,
the ones that send me stupid messages at four am,
then question why I'm awake so late.
For the friend that gets blackout drunk,
for the one with weak knees,
who, when she laughs, falls to the ground in a fit of giggles,
for the friends, I will marry, loving.
Speak now or forever hold your peace,

An ode to my friends,
who I love more than anything,
as we collapse through the stars,

I'll hear them laughing at a joke.

1.7k · Nov 2017
you smell like home
zero Nov 2017
He sat there waiting at the station,
feeling the planet hover around him softly,
the buzzing music becoming background noise,
and then, it happens...
The feeling of love engulfs him.
The rings of my planet surround me,
and I hope for them to surround you too, one day.

1.7k · Jan 2018
WelC0me t0 yoUr r1dE
zero Jan 2018
I'm going to die alone,
but that's okay.
I've been warned.

And if the stars have given me that

what God am I to disagree?
I know I'm not going to suceed,
and I have to know that is okay,
but push myself to my limit.

1.5k · Jan 2018
He s@iD he w/0ulD fiXX M£?
zero Jan 2018
I am a child,
wrapped in cheap paper.
I'm tearing
at every edge.
I tape myself back together,
but I rip in a different place,
and I stare at it.
I feel my body scream in pain as I grin at a
The wound is festering,
it's puce with grime.
It's growing and expanding forth from torn scars
that I've tried to heal with butterfly bandages.
But, every time the butterflies bite my skin,
after using their wings to keep
my laceration
from ripping further,
I use the bird that is my fingernail to pick at the scab,
and watch as the butterfly tumbles to the ground,
joining a thousand carcasses laid strewn next to me.

They're shrivelled and crisp,
scattered in disarray.

I hear them apologise,
for not staying so long.
I got out of the shower and I cried for four hours.

zero Nov 2017
I can't concentrate because of your words,
the ones I can't help but listen too.
You say people are selfish
for loving two kinds of people, not one.
You say that it's confusing,
to like both sexes the same.

Like we need you to understand,
like we need your permission to like who we want to like

I never asked you at all.
To the girls on my English Lit course,

1.5k · Jan 2018
Sh£lves R uNsTe@dy
zero Jan 2018
People have aesthetic childhoods.
With parents that understand and cuddle them when lightning strikes.
I remember the teddy bears in my bed,
and how they smelt of mum and dad,
how I would hold Odettes ear with my finger and thumb,
my head ducked under cover in fear of an alien tickling my toes.
But now the teddies are placed high up on a shelf
away from me, out of reach.

When I realise the ear isn't in my hands,
I look around and see the dust at my feet,l like I'm down at the bottom,
I look up,
my family are at the top
and the red cord of family love bounding us together is thin, and I fear we are soon to have a disconnect again,
When I make it to the third or fourth level
I see their faces grinning with pride
at their daughter succeeding and waking up before noon,
and I say something funny to lighten the mood,
but I tumble lower by one or two
depending on how fake the laugh I hear was.

I sit in the gravel and wonder.
I don't understand why I can't touch them anymore because I'm like my mum,
we're both alike,
and I'm like my dad,
we're also alike,
but I feel lost on a planet when I meet their eyes,
like I'm somewhere I shouldn't be,
I wallow in the dust for days, until I feel
them prodding me with a stick from the top shelf,
asking me when I'll finally reach the top.
Telling me that I'm seventeen now and that I used to be on the sixth shelf when I was sixteen.
How I used to do so well with my homework,
and I would get great grades,
but now I get dark stains around my eyes,
and a tearstained face,
but from their great  height, they can't see my shoulders shaking,
they just see me carrying my baggage,
too heavy for my small frame to handle.

I force my way up the mountain,
until I see their faces,
they smile and I tumble right back down.
I feel like screaming;
but however hard I do scream,
the wind picks it up and carries it away,
and all they hear is;
'Look at me, I'm on your plane!"

They smile.
I tumble three.
Mood for last week,
yesterday my mum talked to me about my future and it turns out, we are on the same plane, just different stepping stones.

1.4k · Nov 2018
tick tock
zero Nov 2018
Time is such a weird thing,
we're oblivious to it's passing,
but in the end, we notice it more than ever.
A little existentialism for a Tuesday evening.

1.4k · Apr 2018
Ugh, eighteen.
zero Apr 2018
I am standing on a staircase, on the seventeenth step,
but the eighteenth onwards has no bannister,
up until now, I've had a safety net,
something to lean on when
the steps aren't lit properly.

'Now', I tell myself,
'I've seen people who have fallen
and manage to grip to the edge
and pull up...towards the next'.
'But I've seen people fall
and never get up'.

I say;
'Am I another statistic?
Am I another failure?
Am I another mangled corpse for the cleaners?
Am I going to lift my leg and take that step?
Am I to ignore the thoughts?
Am I stronger than I let myself think?'

I lift my leg.

Upwards and onwards, I guess.
I realised last night that I'm closer to being eighteen than I've ever been.
After I'm eighteen is nineteen, and so on, which may sound painfully obvious, but I mention this because I'm afraid.

I never knew I'd live this long.

zero Nov 2017
I'd like to feel this way forever,
surrounded by the music of chatter
in this secluded, chugging train.

The way your head feels on my shoulder,
the way my hand fits just right in yours,
but with the way the people look,
I can't help but shuffle away.

For fear of the train collapsing and pulling us under
The looks they give burn me a bit,
but the way your tears fall hurt me most of all.

1.4k · Jan 2018
zero Jan 2018
To my lover,
the one I crave the most.
My core winces to see you weep,
but with the state of your home,
I don't wonder why you're sad.

If my empire was torn to shreds I would tear also,
but my place is within you.
You are the one I'm invested in.

You are the one for me,
so, just text me when you read this
...because I'll be your home.

I'll keep you warm.
I promise?

1.4k · Dec 2017
tidal wave sandpaper
zero Dec 2017
As I breathe my last breath,
and the water fills my lungs,
I turn and see a boy;

He is drowning
and no one can see him

except me.
I'm reaching out, please grab my hand.

1.4k · Dec 2017
cHeatERS get bEateEN
zero Dec 2017
The pieces of my heart,
weigh me down
and cut me,
I ache from the lies you spun
and the time I spent with you.

The next time we meet,
you won't have teeth.
You hurt me.
Don't hold your breath on my resurrection day,
you won't have it for long.

1.3k · Dec 2017
The day of Judgement
zero Dec 2017
The idea of my human worthlessness is dragging me down.

I think about it for the best part of an hour,
only managing to read three pages of my book in that time,

I'm sorry.

I'm just simply being swallowed up by the lack of water surrounding me.
I'm sick of the endless stream of chatter that isn't coming out of my ******* mouth.
I'm sick of the looks no one is giving me because they don't actually see me.

They see a figure,
hunched over,
reading a book.

The book has no words.
The average day
of an average teen.

1.3k · Nov 2017
zero Nov 2017
Lend me your car,
and let me buckle up your heart.
I promise to drive safely,
but if provoked,
I won't hesitate to pull the wheel.
Abuse hidden in moments of life.

Look out for them,
They speak softly.

zero Dec 2017
He sits next to you on the train.
Your heart flushes as he smiles your way.
There's something about him that draws you in,
maybe it's his dreamy hair,
that seems to shine in the morning sun,
or maybe it's the book he was reading,
or maybe it was his hollow eyes,
the ones with the rings under them that makes him
look like he's three weeks past bedtime.
His four patches on his blue, denim jacket,
each with sassy comments on them, stating his hatred for Trump,
or his place as a Feminist?

The colourless rainbow tattoo on his wrist,
next to a heart.

It has her name on it.
And you sit and wonder...

Am I her?

You aren't.

You're not his tattoo,
the one that sits on his wrist.
A name that is passed carelessly throughout the carriages,
The name that stops at the platform.

You are a gentle thought,
unravelled in the minds of others,
growing and nurturing,
exuberating kindness as you do so.

You are not his tattoo,
but a garden,
soon to flourish and grow stronger,
toughening through harsh winters.

You are not his.

You are an evergreen mass,
you were born to live
and you thrive as you do so.
To the people experiencing negative thoughts because you're not his tattoo.

Wait a bit...
You'll soon grow into a garden, and feel the sun on your face.

And you'll think;
'Why was I so worried before?'

1.3k · Nov 2017
To my Love, H.
zero Nov 2017
Two worlds apart,
                                           a whole soul divided
                                             into two parts.

    One here,

                                                          ­                                     and one there.

                              Half with me,
        ­                                           and half with my love.
My Love,
My World,
My Universe and beyond...
for now and forever.
zero Dec 2017
Tears are water to the soul,
and yet I seem to overwater it.
I must have misread the info booklet
on how to keep it thriving,
and instead burnt it along
with the pictures of us.
I miss you, please text me back?

1.3k · Dec 2017
zero Dec 2017
There's a kid in my class,
who sits in the back, with skin
like fresh coffee,
and caramel lips.

He's alone every day, sitting by himself,
eating meals his father made for him,
(that's if he eats that day, that is.)
I see him go to the toilet after he eats.
He comes out looking paler,
Like the food had devoured him,
turning him on his head,
chewing him limb by limb, leaving
him a sobbing mess on the bathroom floor.
His eyes mist over but he wipes them,
as he stares at a gaggle of girls,
they're laughing.
Not at him,
but happily within their group.

He isn't happy and I wish he was.
I wish he would smile.
Just once.

I haven't seen him do that since Monday,
when a boy asked him where he got his coat from,
he smiled and replied; "My mum bought me it from the shop over in town, next to the hairdressers."

His voice was soft
and empty.
It hollowed as he spoke,
becoming a ghost in the class, his smile a touch of silk,
his hands a wavering dove.

But he stopped himself after that,
stared at the ground, muttering about his foolishness.
His utter stupidity at being anything.
"My mum got me it?" he says,
Disgusted at himself.

I don't see why.

His hair is coiled, bouncing with his attempts to brush it,
his teeth an off-white, slightly crooked,
his personality spilling with the looks he gives to
kind passers-by.
To people like me, who
don't know how to
help the boy who throws up every day because he thinks he's fat,
or the boy who curses himself out for speaking to someone,
or the boy who simply cannot bear the sound of his own voice.

Muffled by the depression and anxiety wrapped around him.

But he's fine.

He's a boy.

Manly and strong,

that's what his parents tell him, anyway.
'My big strong lad!" his father smiles, as he enters the room,
kissing his cheek.
His parents adore him,
He can't seem to adore himself.
He doesn't see what we see.
A student, who works hard,
loves music,
beautiful in every way.

He see's an ogre.
A revolting piece of human flesh,
too round,
too long,
too black.
Too anything.
He wants to be nothing,
a minuscule morsel.

He wants to stay alone in the back of the class,
and chip away at the voice of silk,
the soft hollow melody of his throat.

He stamps on his doves.
Killing them in one.
If you feel alone,
Reach out.
We'll reach back.

1.2k · Dec 2017
ch@nge y-0ur tOp?
zero Dec 2017
She was my nightmare
dressed as a wish,
and still, I let her kiss me,
and steal my heart.
Her again.

1.2k · Dec 2017
L0v3 M~ B@ck?
zero Dec 2017
My chest seems too tight to be true,
because all I seem to see is you,
so when he cries into your chest,
or when you smile my way,
I hope you know I held the gun
to the temple of my head
before today.
I hope they believe when they see the news,
that loving him killed you,
how death kissed your breast
and held your hands,
called you his lover
so you could kiss him back.
I pray you cry in the grave,
scratching at the lid of (y)our coffin,
and that you look over and see my eyes,
looking at you.
They're piercing, aren't they?
Don't listen to this,
report them.

zero Mar 2018
Her shoes are lost,
one in the closet, one out of the door,
one step to freedom before her parents
pick them up and throws them,
oblivious to the bang when they hit the wall.

the knocking of adolescent hands,
on the closet door.

the knocking that fell on deaf ears,
when the tears and pleas weren't sufficient.

the children that want a chance at living their lives
in the warm embrace of their parents

and not in the warm embrace
of the fire;

burning their coffin to the ground.
Unlock the closet, and let
your child breathe.

They need space,
but they also need guidance to love who they

zero Feb 2018
Am I in love with you,
or the things that you do?

Because when I look at the sky
and see stars,
I see them fold and collapse,
melting into each other like
drunken bodies,
like moths to the light.

I see them dance across the aqua,
like kids to mothers,
or lover to lover.

I see them die,
fade out,
standing on the edge
of a platform,
screaming for a final chance at love  
before their plummet to
the depths.

I see you.
I know that we exist.

But how can I feel scared
at all,
when I look and see your eyes,

-Are they crying?

As we us fall to the ground,
our bodies becoming weightless,
we are tumbling to our deaths,
We look at each other,
kiss and hug until our
in our coffin
made for two,

soon to burn up.
Larkin is a fabulous poet,
I wish to be as good as him someday.

1.1k · Apr 2018
Hug your baby today!
zero Apr 2018
You gave your baby life,
so, tell me this;
why would you want to take it away
over something as simple
as love?
Accept them before they disappear.

1.1k · Jan 2018
D@nd3lions aRe w£edz
zero Jan 2018
The day you left I felt the seed
plant in my brain.
The negative thoughts of you caused it to
flourish into a ****,
one that rooted itself in my eyes,
performing dance routines in my sockets,
blurring my vision every step-ball-change,
making my eyes leak the water it tried
so desperately to drink,
drowning me in my own tears,
forcing them down my oesophagus,
gorging me with my own dismal identity,
Muffling my whimpers for help,
as it deflowers my innocent happiness,
and forces it into a pit of despair.

When people walk by me in the street,
and they see the elegant,
amber dandelion,
thriving and expanding out of my ears,
down my nostrils and out of my mouth,
they compliment me on my smile that
seems to pair so well with it,
almost as if it were made for me.
But they fail to see that it is choking me,
blocking my airways,
obscuring my vision and forcing me to the ground
with every clogged breath I breathe.
I could curse the stars and heavens for cursing me,
with the wondrous obscenity that is located under my left eye,
it grows outwards,
haunting my dreams.

It's the reminder of you.
I felt disgusted,
that I still water the plant that attacks me,
But as I watched you walk out of the door I realised
that you were happier this way.

So I am happy to make myself bleed,
as I shall do so better than any king would,
but before you leave,
trim the blooming flower that blinds my eye
and take it with you.
Reminder to water your plants,
you're their parent.
Like, c'mon.
Be an adult...

1.1k · Jan 2019
zero Jan 2019
sometimes I feel lost in the bed sheets;
clinging onto a body I wasn't made to
I woke up clutching a pillow with her name on the tip of my tongue.

zero Feb 2018
Loving you was the best
It's a shame I'm not the
one for you,
but you're at one
with me.
The stars up above blind
us with smiles,
but your eyes are twisted,
with the hopes of yesterday.
This isn't about you,
it's about your sister.

1.1k · Jan 2018
Twice in a r0w.
zero Jan 2018
Another year without you,
Seventeen years of no kisses at midnight
and counting.
I still think of you whenever I feel down.

zero Jan 2018
I can't change what you believe,
but if you could just see me in a different light,
and love girls like me I'd be thankful,
because you give me that look,

the look that makes my heart stutter.
Heartbreak is fun until you realise that's what you've been feeling for two years.
1.1k · Dec 2017
6ft Together
zero Dec 2017
Imagine you and her together,
Right now.
Hand in hand,
cheek to cheek,
laying comfortably in bed.
The vinyl record humming,
and hearts kissing.

That's me and him.
We're like this, but we love separately.

6ft apart.

One above ground,
one so below.
Me and Him.
The story of my love.
The story of my death.

zero Jun 2018
I always expected more
than what I could ever get.
I woke up and smiled;
convinced; this is home.
This is it. All I ever wanted
and needed in this world,
here in this tiny space.
I can't remember when
I last did something
great. Meaningful.
Something you could be
proud of. Smiles and Pleas.
Like the sound of the bird outside
my window; fluttering like
a flag in the wind.
One gust could set her sail.
Set her free.
One slice of the knife sends the
carrot top rolling off the board;
onto the floor. Knock, Knock,
Knocking in panic on
the bathroom door.
One pull of the trigger
and I'll be asleep.
Far away from me...
Or rather...who I became in the end.
I swear it isn't.

1.1k · May 2018
he hunts
zero May 2018
I see you, rabbit,
sitting in the grass, breathing
hard. afraid.
I see how you shake,
it's cold in winter.
freezing. I begin
to run, the feeling of
power and powerlessness
takes over. Why can't I
stop? What is wrong with
me? I pounce, landing.
thud. You cry. I stare, my
body heavy on yours. Your cries
loud. Sharp to my ears. I could curse at
the stars for making me this
way. The instinct screams in
my head; **** IT **** IT.
Instead I watch as you try to run.
Blood. White snow. Enticing.
I want to cuddle. I want to love. I want
to eat. I have a warmth you have been
looking for, Rabbit. Come closer,
Rabbit. Why aren't you crying,
The Wolf wins in the end, not the Tortoise.

1.1k · May 2018
this is all I need
zero May 2018
Don’t worry if it is the end.
Even if it is the last time we
ever see each other.
I promise I’ll meet you
at the gates when you get
dropped off.
I’ll pick you up.
Spin you around.
Kiss you until my lips
My love,
my life is ending,
but I promise that
in the end
Your smile
Is all I need.
Not to be dramatic,
but you are the love of my life.

1.0k · Dec 2017
zero Dec 2017
Swept away to distant lands,
but still, I call out your name.
I whisper them in my sleep,
but still, you do not call.

Mama, Papa.

it's me,
your son.

Reply to me.
Set me asleep.
Mama, Papa.
Call me back.

958 · Jan 2018
zero Jan 2018
I am a simulation rebelling against my natural coding.
I refuse to believe what others think, just because it's written in the pages of an old book,
that, if you flip over too quickly,
could cut you.

I am an alien, lost on a planet unknown,
trying to speak English to its inhabitants,
and all they speak is in tongues.
I see their mouths moving
and yet I hear nothing a gabble of words
that string like rope out of their mouths
to strangle.

I am the scissors,
cutting the Moira between me and you.
I left you a note on the nightstand
with the wedding ring I wore
at first, it acted like a buoy, kept me afloat,
now it is made of lead,
and, with permission, it'd to drag me to the depths.

I am the looped flowers growing
out of my grandmothers piano,
my fingers play melodies that
the birds can sing,
so the children of the future can hear my voice.

I am the scent of your dead mother's perfume.
The one that haunts you whilst you sleep,
and kisses your cheek to make sure you
still think of me.

I am the treehouse set alight,
without a match in my hands,
or gasoline as my lotion,
I sink further and further into the grounds
as the flame rises,
choking you with my scent,
you cry out for mercy at Maria up above.
It's scary when you smell a dead girls perfume.

934 · Mar 2018
The T i d e - personified.
zero Mar 2018
The tide and her wave of emotion.
The hands that once held me now goes for
the jugular, to cut.
The swift, rough swipe of the
razor causes an outpour of unstoppable feelings,
fleeting forth from my face,
It lands upon an infant that lay
crying in my right hand,
screaming, it yearns for the breast of
knowledge and safety,
The craving for intimacy and affection,

The Insuppressible,


Need for Want,
And Want for Need, all the same.
Can you give her it?

Will you?

zero May 2018
The moon in the middle of the day,
dogs when they look at you with feeling,
too many coffee granules to keep in balance
the harmony between coffee *** and grain.

Finding Atlantis in your bath tub,
or solace in enemy arms,
the image of flightless birds that
are waxed too close to the sun to stay afloat.

Having a sleepover on Saturn,
or laughing through stomach cramps under water.
The feeling of salt burning your nostrils
to get back at your own humility.

Teachers living at home with their parents,
teddy's with one eye and patchwork smiles.
Wearing a pink dress to a funeral,
watching a loved one slip, slip, slipping away.
A balance of both the possible and impossible seem so far away.

897 · Aug 2018
Mans Best Friend
zero Aug 2018
Is there anything purer
than the gaze of a dog, laying
across your lap or curled to
the motion of your legs?
Feeling their heart beat
on your calf, ‘protect me
they say, ‘as, in turn, I protect thee
They sigh. Warm breath on cold nights.
Amber eyes if shone
directly at them.
Growling at something in
The corner; a moth or Baphomet,
but whats the difference in their gaze?
Loyal to the touch,
Loving to the heart,
Linked to the soul
And then;
they depart.
864 · Dec 2017
My boy.
zero Dec 2017
There was a boy
I had never seen cry,
but every time someone mentioned home...
his voice began to waver,
and his eyes,
his eyes...
they misted...
The boy who ran away from home,
just to find himself longing for it again,

812 · May 2018
old people and their day
zero May 2018
Days come and go like
people on a Ferris wheel.
Round and round,
up and down,
beating their heads side to
side like a tambourine
on a cruise ship;
sailing along
waiting for an iceberg
or something much cooler to hit it,
so they have something to talk about.
Far and wide; the great sea.
It seems so small and insecure compared
to everyone else's, and in the end we
all ripple and break in different ways.
No trickle of water holds the
same bubbles nor the same
shells but people say
blood is thicker than water
but even then...blood drains
leaving behind a coffee stain of memories
that you'd try to tell grandchildren before
your untimely death on the operating table.
"Don't forget that I drew the heart on the tree
in the park, the one with the X and O after it!"
They nod, uninterested, only after your funeral
they truly feel famished.
All the water in the world couldn't soothe their
burning, aching hearts;
'Grandma, come home...
I miss you.'
Sometimes a call is all they need to smile.
Don't forget the elderly, they need love the most.

760 · Jul 2018
a Cancer poem for June.
zero Jul 2018
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.
Cancer is the best zodiac sign- hands down.

737 · Dec 2017
sandpaper can't hurt me
zero Dec 2017
I don't know how to tell my parents I'm struggling.
Because one minute I'm a giggling
12 year old,
sleeping over at friends houses,
laughing at nothing,
eating junk food
and watching horror movies,
the next minute I'm a bumbling
17 year old,
and someone has pulled the plug out of my bath,
I'm cold and shaking,
alone in a cylinder cube that's spinning and spinning
and spinning out of control,
I can't move my arms because of the speed,
it's throwing me in directions I never knew existed
until now,
as I'm cascading down a waterfall,
plummeting to the ends of the earth,
I scream for mercy at a God I don't know,
and wish I attended church once a week,
prayed to a religion I don't believe,
just to feel comfort wrap their arms around me,
but still, amidst the wreckage
and the bendy, broken bones
and my calloused feet from running around in my head all day,
I pull myself up,
shake my head and watch as my tears fall
from my face, just like the dust from my hair,
and I take a bath,
and I continue.
Even though I ache and I cry,
and I feel I could die,
I soldier on throughout the wind and the rain,
and as the hail falls forth from the skies,
and pandora's box opens
I scream:
"Yes! I made it!"
because I had gotten up that morning and attended my morning classes,
even though I have shapes and welts where the hail had hit,
I still laugh like I'm
12 years old again.
I bandage my wounds,
and watch as they scar,
and although I hide them,
and slander and name call them,
I kiss them now and again to
make sure they heal.
Because I can't be sure when someone will
kiss me to make me recover,
so I kiss myself to sleep every night,
and tell myself I'm worthy of it.
Just so I can wake up and smile.

To a world that's spinning out of my control.
Reach for help,
we will reach back.
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