"check in later pretty boys and secret girls"
i went to sleep a poet and i woke up a fraud
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— 2 Kudos
Category: Writing and Poetry
between secrets and lies were teardrops from your blonde eyelashes. wrap it up in your bedsheets like a not-so-pleasant christmas present. at some point hands and legs and mouths tangle into one and nothings tangible like it used to be. loosen the tape and punch out my teeth and watch how the cd stops fitting. i pen the words but they arent mine until theyre written in my blood, so cut me open to ... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
i beg, i choose, i lose. the bark is loud but the bite is pathetic at best. i get mean only like a kicked puppy does and i take what i can get. even if theres not the same desperation for love and for touch behind his kiss on my neck as there is behind the way i brush his hand with mine. give my nerves a fever and soothe them with an icepack in the same breath despite the hitch. fake it til you fa... » Continue Reading
— 1 Comment— 4 Kudos
Category: Writing and Poetry
climbing over chainlink fences. hands unsteady the whole way up. scraped heels of hands covered in mud after hitting the ground. damp jeans and grass stains. rusted park playground sets. moonlight. flat soda. thrumming eardrums, throbbing headache. kiss you with my fist before crashing lips. open mouthed kisses, open minded rambles. desperation. muses. time slowed. always 11:11. i felt different b... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
wishes keep me faithless, the semisweet kiss of misery keeps me holding on. im not sure what keeps me up, staring at the ceiling and tracing patterns in the paint with my eyes, but it feels like ive been stuck in a labyrinth of late nights and smudged ink. its the polaroid remnants of you, i think, letters written in eyeliner and sealed with a press of your lips to the envelope with a heart sticke... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
ive caught a stomach bug and the fever is the ache in my chest and the cough is the mind numbing small talk of im okay thanks for asking yeah school is going well i still play guitar i do take lessons now yeah oh well i guess ive been tired really tired if im honest but its mostly apathy so its whatever right if im not sad then well i guess its okay im just sick of needing a drink and how good the... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
i dont like work. my favorite subject is art. i drink coffee, but i dont care for it. its hard for me to see sometimes. i cant ground myself. i dont have a name, not really. i look prettiest after i cry. i cant say its me that looks prettiest after i cry, actually, this body is not mine. this body will never be mine. i am my conscious, and i want to get out. i am a person with a long list of wishe... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
ive never been a good liar. my lips are loose enough to sink ships, looser when im this close to your hips, words falling off my tongue in a flurry that can only be understood if you got in my head and picked apart every piece of me. my heart isnt on my sleeve or my cheek but presented on a silver platter, bloody and beating still, my chest ripped open and my ribcage exposed, lungs still pushing o... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
youre pretty. can i come over? sit in your bathtub? i need an escape. you can join me and we’ll sit together doing anything but confronting our problems (my first problem being how i wish youd hold my fucking hand even though you wont despite our proximity). too close, too far, not close enough and i wish youd get away from me. i want you. thats not the right thing to say, is it? fuck. im a little... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
yearn•ing /ˈyərniNG/ noun 1. the way i look at you and the first thought across my mind is “i love you,” no matter what you do. tell me about the mundane things. i treasure the words you speak as they fall off your tongue like theyre turning into a pile of gold at my feet. 2. the way i wonder if you look at me and think you love me, too. 3. the way the moon wants the sun to just see her beyond a g... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
before we met, i knew you in a dream. you had a different name, or you didnt have one at all. it didnt matter much to me. your eyes were the same, and the way you laughed. the way your smile was a little crooked, and how it never failed to charm me. you were who the poets wrote about, i was sure, and the only good thing you could ever find in my head. then i saw you dancing. you wouldnt have stood... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
i guess when you looked at me that way, at my lips and not my eyes, i expected a little more than a kiss off. you have a better pokerface than i thought. you hold all the cards and ive got an empty hand, and in the end you tear them up and make your way out the door. its funny, in a masochistic kind of way, that youd lead me on by the collar of my shirt then push me into a ditch, only to find your... » Continue Reading
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