the kind that sleep
I need something
a type of rest
that last longer.
I'm Done.I can feel
kiss my cheek
through the numbness,
were supposed to
was supposed to
what have they
for who I've
Apology.I'll spend my life,
if my existence
may be so called,
apologizing for everything,
could never be my fault,
because every horrible thing
can be traced back
Sorry, I Love You.You swore
to make me feel
all the pain
I caused you
by destroying everything
My heart broke
and tears fell
from my eyes,
as you killed yourself.
Fallen.I wonder how many tears
Lucifer has shed,
when he sees the scars on his back
and remembers he once possessed wings.
Probably still less than me
when I look at your memories
and see the hollow space
from where you cut me out.
Empty Pages.You are the perfect story,
A plot unfurling from your touch,
And poetry in your eyes.
You speak with golden glory,
Into sentences of hate,
And promises of lies.
You are the book
I never had the words to write.
Horology.Like a clock,
you said you'd wait
but I forgot
to replace the battery,
...i'd like to see the stars, fall
and kiss the
i'd make a wish as they'd shatter its glow
into a million little pieces, and
across the seas.
one day, these lights will go
out; one day, that wish will come
[shut your eyes and imagine
...and everytime i flip
these empty pages,
i can see
are the blank
[i have nothing to say .]
Beware Of The Bad BoySo he touches you in all of the right places
But with a clenched fist and not a gentle hand
By ‘right places’ I mean those easily hidden
By the latest expensive designer brand
Which he buys you to either keep your silence
Or to beg and to plead for your forgiveness
Is this where the attraction of a bad boy lies?
Please explain where is the excitement in this?
So he kisses you with a so-called passion
His hands round your neck steal a two letter word
It seems that he cannot feel satisfaction
Unless you show him signs that his dominance hurts
Which he tightens each time to keep your silence
Or maybe he just enjoys hearing you moan
Is this the deed of some stalker, some stranger?
No, this is your husband and this is your home
So he lays you out on the living room floor
I wonder what will fall down to the carpet first
The drops of blood from between your legs
Or the tears flowing between his regretful words
Which he whispers in your ear as you lay silent
It’s safe to say
Tell me howHow could still you plead,
The many times you wished I'd bleed?
How many wrongs I had done.
Don't make me think you have won.
At the end of a tunnel there is always light.
That's what's left, right?
About that Unpopular girlTaciturn
She becomes the omniscient narrator for the classroom
from the desk in the back of the class [and next to the window]
Her long black hair is combed
Her neatness being revealing how self-conscious she really is
She carries no scent
not of filth or of offensive odor
not of dove bodywash or perfume
not even of the mark of eve
When I capture your fleeting glance
I see the life in your eyes
the millions of explosions
behind your irises that tell me
You are alive.
A tiny glimpse past the corporal--past the dark circles of stress--past all things average about you
but you look away... you say "g-g-gomenasai"
Gomenasai for looking at me
Gomenasai for meeting me
Gomenasai for wanting to be with me
and I young and ignorant will say goodbye [to you and your beauty] and return to my life
I will never hear you again.
I adopted your scars onto my bodyYou came to me in the midnight of your life
While I was in the twilight of mine
I was barely breathing
But you were suffocating
And so I breathed my air into your lungs
Leaving myself to be the one gasping instead
Perhaps it was the angst of your soul that drew me in
Or the beauty of the pain in your nature
The selfish selflessness that left me in such wonder that I could ignore the pain i felt
I adopted your scars onto my raw flesh
So that you could again walk among the living
While I laid in happy agony in the grave you abandoned
You promised to return so that we could change places one day...
With Every Beat of your HeartHis eyes were storming
I was drowning in the blue
No life raft in reach
His heartbeat a metronome
That guided me toward the shore
PsychoI see what isn't there
No one yells yet I can hear
The silence screams my name
No one can feel my pain
Inside I'm a mess
Outside I try my best
Happiness made of plastic
Surrounded by the night
I see faces and try to fight
I close my eyes and yell, "GO!"
Everyone's a little psycho
A person inside my head
On panic it is fed
Red, the color of fear
The monsters draw near
Scars on my arms
I beg and it harms
Just let me be
One day I'll be free
I curl up and cry
All I want is to die
I've become my own foe
Everyone's a little psycho.
16 knocks on wood1.
the moon disappears every 28 days.
it wanes & waxes in fractions; it's smart
enough to not try everything at once.
i have been taught that every 7 years,
the cells in my body will die & be born again.
this means the moon will vanish & reappear 91 times
before i will have skin free of your fingerprints.
Proud Lake is located in Commerce, Michigan. at the crack of dawn,
you can find a boy with a gravel & honey voice casting fishing
lines into the abyss. you will wonder if he'll catch a good one.
time knows no boundaries;
just benevolence that doesn't always work out.
once, when i was 2 years old, i choked on the leaf of a mulberry tree.
not every seed bears good fruit.
sometimes, something is so beautiful that you can't breathe.
sometimes, you won't even try.
my palm is roughly the size of a nectarine.
in Chinese culture, nectarines symbolize mutation
and mutation is a change in structure.
i still don't know what my hands are trying to tell me.
a boy named Joshua tol
.the stars rock themselves
there is nothing left;
they have peeled the moon
like a ripe fruit, coils
of pearly skin draping the hills,
only god knows
what they did to her core,
where they buried her seeds
in the earth
(i put my ear to the ground now and listen, for her children in their wombs of dirt)
NightmaresI don't want to fall asleep
I can't bare to close my eyes
I can't stand what's inside my head
Be it made of truth or lies
'Cause when I fall asleep
The nightmares take place
The worst things I can imagine
Scarier than any screaming face
In my dreams
I see you there
But you're hurting me on purpose
And you don't seem to care
I see you with other girls
And you look so happy
And I'm stood there screaming
Telling you it should be me
But you're not listening
You're too busy having fun
I can't get away from what I'm seeing
No matter how much I try to run
I'm seeing you with girlfriends
I've never even heard of
Telling them they're beautiful
As I start to sob
Then I wake up in the dark
And I'm lying here alone
With no one here to comfort me
Just me on my own
You may think the worst part is over
But it's only just begun
'Cause when I go back to sleep
I know I'll have another one
Nightmares that leave me crying
When I wake up in bed
Wishing every night
That they would stay out my head
But I kno
a little more
(or maybe we'd just go broke).
a poem on the inner workings of my chaotic mindit isn't like i'm
lazy or anything it's just that
the thought of getting lost
in a crowd of ten or more people
makes me want to puke.
this is not just some
stupid little hang-up that you can
joke about when i'm
digging my fingernails into my palm so
hard that blood is drawn as we walk through
school hallways so packed that it feels
like we're suffocating from too much
oxygen but i just grit my teeth and
laugh "yeah, i know, i just don't like
being around people sometimes."
but you know,
there's just something about the way
my mother says "go out and have a life
and stop looking like the world
betrays you every day"
that makes my stomach drop
or when my dad looks at me and just
sighs, like they've finally realized
i was never good enough to be
and to everyone who believes that
i just need to relax,
to just calm down and think:
fuck you. fuck you for trying to pretend
like you know how it feels when my
bones grind together like broken
gears as i walk by people who may