i just wanted you to hold me
so tight my bones broke,
but the force cracked my heart
meadows.you only ever picked dead flowers
because you wanted to leave the living ones
for others to admire...
i guess that's why you chose me
over everyone else.
you're so blind.here i am drowning
and you have no idea what to do,
you're so lost
why don't you take your hands
off my shoulders?
midnights always last longer than they should.i spend sleepless nights in my room
staring at your picture on my mirror
and wondering why on earth someone as beautiful as you
would ever love someone like me,
but then i remember
the willows no longer weep for us, isn't that sad?hospital walls
aren't very thick
and so every night i could hear you sleeping
soundly in the room next to mine.
i wasn't trying to kill myself,
not that time,
i just wanted to make myself fall asleep
so i could find you in our dreams.
i hope you remember to bring the flowers.the stars whispered late
as we lay beneath their
"what if i die today?" you asked.
and i told you in that case,
i'd see you by tomorrow.
sometimes i get mesmerized, watching the flies.i'd drink the bleach
my mother pours into the sink
just to feel it eat away
at the chapped beige skin
peeling from my vermilion lips;
it's winter in this summer wasteland
and i'm jealous of the sink.
the lace curtains drowned in the rain.you told me i wasn't allowed
to write poems about you anymore.
but it's like when my doctor tells my hands
not to shake;
i can't control it.
rain.i still have buckets in my room
from when you poured your heart out.
plastic pails full of pain and love
and lust and tears and names and smiles.
i don't know why i keep them...
maybe i hope one day you'll come back
to claim them.
or when i'm being really dumb
i let myself hope that you'll come back anyway
where do you fall when you fall in love?i see my voice curl toward the sky in crystal breaths
as i stand beneath the stars and ask the gods
"where do you fall when you fall in love?"
and in the distant thunder roars as zeus clears his throat.
lightening strikes to start a fire
and in anticipation i sit by the flames as he begins his story.
"love," he says, "is the beautiful medication
that we drink to still our pain,
but often it is overdosed
and we always end up crashing
like a star falling from my sky."
as i watch the shadows dance about his face
aphrodite proudly walks to us
with her golden grace and emerald eyes.
"there's a kingdom," she says with ivory verse, "just below the sea
and it awaits young lovers there
where they drown for all eternity."
at the mention of the sea, poseidon falls down to us
from his chariot atop the cliff and in his booming voice he declares;
"and in that cavern the butterflies are drenched
and with heavy wings they cannot fly
so they suffocate the lovers."
with the quietest gait of a clumsy fox
beautiful.i want her
like the atlantic needs a storm,
but she's causing hurricanes
to flutter in some other boy's
i choked on dandelion dust clotted to my wrists.i remember years ago,
back when i was six-years-old,
my mother called a plumber
and cursed in her sunday best
when the line went dead.
i couldn't see past the counter,
so i laid face-first against the floor
and waited for the pipes to unclog
so my parents could recommence
pouring my childhood
down the drain.
left.i just needed you to stay
but you couldn't hear me beg you,
because the world outside
was so damn loud.
you left your roses in my throat.i'm convinced there was a god
at least once
not because of some neck-tied preacher
or pamphlets left on my doorstep
but because there was poetry written in the lines of your lips
and, though you were so many things,
a poet wasn't one, love
so if you didn't write those words
then who did?
i wanted to,
but it wasn't me
i don't think you would have let me anyway
you never liked my poetry very much
because it was sad
and sad reminded you of your mother
and that made you sad
so we'd be sad together
and you didn't think that was a good basis for a relationship
but we weren't a relationship
we were just two ghosts
trying to haunt each other
and that never works out.
you were the poison i couldn't wait to drink.ten thousand faces
could reflect in that broken mirror
hanging behind my door,
but i'll only ever see yours.
may rest upon my lips,
though none of them
could taste like yours.
i find it funny
in a tragic, pathetic way
that no matter who is speaking
it is your voice
resonating in their throats.
i could burn my fingertips,
so that all sensations numb,
but every time i trace my memories
your skin would still feel like a thousand flawless
and i could give away my heart
to the most ruthless hurricane,
but even it's caress
would not cut me
during high school: junior year.skyler
i cry every time i realize that i had to say "i'm sorry"
more often than "i love you";
i hope you knew i meant both.
we were in pre-cal and i was going through your journal
while you made paper flowers to put in my hair.
we both failed the test from last week,
but those returned papers just became more roses.
your beret was on the floor, near my foot, and i apologized fifteen and a half times
for accidentally stepping on it;
you put tape over my mouth to shut me up.
you always talked about art museums,
even more than me.
your favorite painting is in new york,
and mine is in brussels.
you wanted to lay in swirling blue wind,
and i wanted to kiss marat.
i remember you would always get mad at me
for not liking da vinci very much.
he was a revolution, as far as you were concerned,
and in that battle you were both fighting against me;
i didn't care that he wasn't even your favorite,
i just loved the passion that burned your crystal eyes.
do you remember sitting in the m
unrealistic ideologies of an
are toxic; breathing
is a chore. there is
a careful warmth in the
combined effort of
we are the forgotten.
we are the tangled limbs
and childhood stories for
a more sensitive future; we
are the longing, we are
we are measured
in the people we touch;
and I will love you
in the UV light of
hide and seek paranoia.
I love you in the red shimmer
of harbored dreams, I love you
in the industrial gl
Being Okay Is The Hardest Thing We DoBeing Okay Is The Hardest Thing We Do
because being okay is expected,
if we’re not okay, that’s not okay,
what can we do to be okay?
we can scribble illegible words
on a canvas made for by painters
masquerading as notebook paper,
and hope that we can sell the burn
of stinging emotions for some paper.
but the funny thing about that thought?
is that american money isn’t paper,
it’s 75% cotton and 25% linen fibers.
so even the money you'd earn from your misery,
isn't anything you can write on
when you realize your money isn't
made to heal. even if it does talk.
but it never really ever says enough, does it?
But that's okay...
being okay is the hardest thing we do
because sticks and stones do break bones,
but you can hide the scars
with a jacket or longer sweatshirt.
or put on pants as opposed to athletic shorts.
words kill, words heal, and words are so much more.
and you can't hide the scars that riddle your face,
the way your
BannedMy mind is a library
Lined with banned books.
I've been copying them down
In fear that someone
Will Burn them down.
writers filter out their lungs with lighter fluida briny blackthorn boy, i
am rotting, reinfected -
a skeleton's blooming from
underneath my skin; she's
between my collar bones,
she's inside my jaw, she -
she is vile, the way all necromancers are
(but god, am i envious).
Mama's EyesShe said to her daughter,
And her little girl
No longer little
Looked up in her mama's eyes,
And Mama thought nothing of it,
Till her little girl
No longer little
Never looked up in her mama's eyes
you tasted like mintI remember the way you stared into my eyes
in the front seat of your car.
Our favorite song was playing on the radio
and you were driving me home in the rain
because I didn't have anyone else who could give me a ride.
You parked your car in my drive way
and we watched the rain drops race down the windshield.
You had kissed me goodbye before I got out
and I waved as you drove away.
And for a while, it seemed like I couldn't get the taste
of your minty lips out of my mouth.