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Missing my Sunny SkiesI miss you
The being there,
and then you’re gone.
This pain in my chest
And I want you here.
I thought it would be better,
if you were gone.
Maybe then I could get
But I can’t
I don’t want to.
I never wanted to.
I love you.
I always have.
The time I had taken for granted.
The anger because you were never
Always coming and going
Kind of like the ocean tides.
Or the hills of the roller coaster rides.
Soft words on dark nights.
So many firsts.
So many memories.
How I wish I could rip them out!
Tear the bits out of my skull!
Let them drip out so I never had to think of you again!!!
I love you, but I hate this pain I have now that you’re gone.
Mac to my Cheese,
The one I let in, and you let me in too…
The skies have been dark,
Since you left me,
And I have been missing my sunny skies.
HelpThere once was a girl,
Who loved with all her heart.
But the more she loved,
The more she was torn apart.
The world started spinning.
Her world crashing around.
She called out for help,
But she never heard a sound.
Nobody would take notice,
Or listen to her pleas.
Even when she had been there all the time,
She was falling to her knees.
Eyes filled with tears,
And one dark thought.
When she needed someone,
Right there on the spot.
Would anyone come?
When she needed aid?
In front of her was all that laid.
She dug down deep,
Even though things were rough,
But, she was still slipping,
It just wasn’t enough.
She gave herself.
Gave it her all.
But it didn’t matter,
And she would soon fall.
She is sweet and kind,
And was so full of life,
Now, a hollow of whence she was,
Out of her back, there now lays a knife.
Every word said,
Drives it deeper still.
All she wants now,
Is for it to kill.
So she won’t have to feel,
All alone in this darkness.
Everything has unravel
The Bridge - RevisionWe were standing across from one another. Two friends on a bridge we had created together across a bottomless chasm. The pieces laid were both yours and mine. We had been friends for quite some time, almost a year to be exact, and we rather enjoyed each other’s company. One day you started taking down your side of the bridge, piece by piece. Startled, I yell for you to come back. But, with your head down in your work, you continue leaving me. I stand at the edge of my side and frantically begin to lay down more bricks, trying to get back to you. I want you in my life; I want to be with you. As your side gets shorter, mine gets longer and longer. Through bloodied hands and tired muscles I continue to work feverishly. We continue at a steady pace as our once sturdy bridge begins to sway and wobble. With exhaustion threatening both body and mind I begin to slip into fond memories of better days.
I remember you coming over to my apartment and us talking about how stupid and judgmenta
Where's the Stick?I am a professional stick fetcher. It’s ingrained in the membrane, and I love to do it.
My person takes me out to the back field and I race around a few laps, taking in all the fresh odors, and stretching my legs. For prime air catches of course. To make sure I’m extra light, gotta run around and pee on everything, plus I want everyone to know that this is MY stick-fetching space.
Oh boy! She picked up a stick! She picked it up! Throw it! Throw it Thro-!
I raced off after it, eyes focused on it, every fiber inside me charged and in tuned.
Objective: Retrieve that stick.
Of course the first few runs were great. By the sixth, or was it seventh? I was starting to get a little tired, my tongue lolling happily out of my mouth, waiting for that next throw. My person held the stick above her head, and before it even left her hand, I whizzed off. Determined to get that stick the moment it hit the ground. I turned around, looking wild-eyed for the elusive stick.
StarsAs I gaze into the darkening sky, I watch the sun dipping down, changing the bright blue to a vibrant pink, or deep purple, sometimes even both. The birds all sing to their chicks the “Go to sleep” song. And tuck them in all under their bellies. People usually arrive home to their families, and are met with hugs and love as they retreat into their humble abodes. The raccoons and opossums all start to wake up and stretch their weary bodies for another long night of hunting and traveling. The street lights flick on as the light fades, a comforting sheet of black sweeps over mother earth as her children slumber. But, the one thing that scared children the most is the darkness and what lies in that unknown.
My eyes watch the sky, and I see them slowly appear. Before all the light has completely gone from the sun’s rays, little white lights begin to dot the sky. Nature’s gems that provide a small night light for the children of the earth that accompany the moon of co
Isn't it Funny?I can’t believe where we are today. And what we have been through together. Every last minute spent with you, is a minute I will remember forever.
I met you my sophomore year of high school, it was biology with Mrs. Rhodes. Heh, we both hated it. The teacher didn’t know what she was getting herself into when she sat the two of us next to each other. But then again, did we know at the time what a beautiful friendship, and what a pure love that would develop from it. I don’t think so. You couldn’t plan anything as amazing as what we became.
Your girlfriend at the time really didn’t like me. I know. I think it’s because you were here, with me, and she was so far away. I mean come on, how far away is Reno? I’m not sure, but I know its a few states that way... or something. I remember it so very well, I would always come over to your house after school, and we would go on adventures in the fields and woods behind your house. HA, that hunters shed wh
A message to the brokenYou drown yourself
in liquid sorrows,
letting the salty mess
burn your wounds,
and the sadness
to drip in your mouth,
consuming your words
and you say
you deserve the pain,
but I want to dry your face,
and whisper in your ear
how the clouds cry too,
while they hold such beauty,
and so do you.
Pretty metaphors are for pretty girlsI told you to stop
spewing pretty metaphors at me,
for with each elaborate comparison,
I feel a bit more
detached from this world
And maybe I don’t feel so strong at the moment,
but would you be
if you felt like the entire universe
was resting upon your shoulders,
and someone was just there saying:
But you’re stronger than the powerful beats
of a butterfly’s wings
And maybe I do need more confidence,
but would you exuberate it
when the part you hated most about yourself
were the freckles that have speckled your face for years,
and someone was just there muttering:
They’re not flaws,
but rather stars that form constellations
Yes, I can’t help but hate
all those unrealistic metaphors
you choose to pelt at me when I’m low,
yet the irony is,
I know that those beautiful words
are realistic in your eyes,
So I can’t hate you.
dark circlesi haven't slept well in 14 days
my eyes droop pretty colors
'50 shades of purple and grey,
they're bags and they're designer'
making jokes is how i cope
with chapped lips and constant chap-stick
it tastes like honey and mint
i laugh and say i'm addicted.
hooded lids and sleepy smiles
during lunch at subway
my friends ask if I'm okay
I say that I'm just tired.
but really when I see him with her
my heart sinks to the tiles
she's pretty and witty and sure as hell she can sing
and i'm just a loud bone-collector.
when I see her with him,
dancing and laughing and grinning,
the ring on her finger
laughs at my singularity.
for as much as i lie and as much as i try
my loneliness still creeps in,
because no matter how much they protest,
i'm still the lowly fifth-wheel.
walking behind them on sidewalks
that are wide, but built for four
smiles and laughs when they look back
but the frown creeps evermore.
pelvis peaks through paper-thin skin
and knuckles white and pale
my ribs are empty, my bo
Clear WristA clear wrist, barren of scars,
as opposed to skin sauntered in marks,
tells a trickier story than it's soiled and raw,
uncaring, unkempt counter part.
Bravery, I think it holds,
the strength to bare unimaginable loads
of pain and suffering through endless times,
and withstanding the agony of sleepless nights.
Some think it is fear, the reluctance to cut,
but I believe it opposite, it show courage and guts.
To bear your pain without a nick on your wrist,
is like a solider braving his terrain while being torn limb from limb.
Agonizing as it is, to hide your pain,
you do it so well, and no attention you'll gain.
At the end of the day, it's not cry for attention,
rather a cry for the victory that's silently mentioned.
Your scars are those not self inflicted,
and despite the gnawing intention,
to harm yourself and ease your pain,
the scars you earn are rightfully gained.
In a room of those who have jumped the gun,
and left traces of blood deep in their arms,
do not be tempted to do the sam
specter boys have always looked best sinkinghe says,
i want to count all 206 &
feel the notches of your ribs -
i want you, weary boy, to
phase yourself down while
you are burning inside out.
i will seethe inside your skull
like thoughts, like cigarette filters;
you will thank me as i molder in your marrow.
Moira (Excelsior)Moira (Excelsior)
hands clap over my eyes
like a chain clasp
linking lace around my neck.
and our clutch.
splitting into a wide upward curve,
canines and incisors cut through screens.
time rotates in a downward degree
360 degrees infinitely,
but the days are confined to finite.
and if i could, i'd connect the 12 lines
and walk along them endlessly.
i'd lose the ability to dream
and i'd never have to mingle
with the cousin of death.
living forever as a verb,
until time laps around the track
about 10 million times before
it has lost its legs.
i don't wanna sleep,
i want to dream
in an empirical reality.
hold the old time in my hand
and let the prospect bleed
into the prophecy.
These Faded KeysOf all the keys I click
As we speak each day,
It's the back arrow
That's faded most
These white letters
Would surely tell you,
I reply to everything -
But the key reading "enter"
Will be the one to explain
Why it still looks new
I want you to know
Just how much I care,
But I don't want to be close
Out of the fear of losing you
But please remember:
I dedicate these words to you,
Sharing them to the world
Rather than clicking away
At the faded key ~
Tonight, I finished a roll of toilet paper
that I had started
a month, 8 days,
two hours, and 21 minutes ago.
Its genesis, June 11th,
one of the worst nights of my life,
I took a roll from my small bathroom,
and silently tucked it under my arm.
I couldn't let my girls know.
They couldn't know
I was going to use this as my broom.
They couldn't know
that I swept my shattered heart
under my bed.
And I wept.
My pillow taking my abuse,
my suffocation and my attacks.
My fingers squeezing it for dear life
and my knuckles as I punched it,
imagining it was her.
Then hugging it.
I only cried that hard
when I was about 6.
She was gone.
And so was I.
I cried every night
which would've marked
our 7-month anniversary.
And in the late days of that month,
I lied to myself.
And for that,
I regret every moment.
I wasn't ready.
At least I stopped it,
before we drowned each other
like the last woman.
Two weeks lat
Night SkyThe night sky is endless
Such pure darkness
Black and daunting
Yet so bright
Wish upon wish on shooting stars
Little specks of imagination
Floating throughout space
Such wonder and bliss
Someday I hope to be a star
I'll shine so brightly
The whole world will smile
I could make someone's wish come true
Make a difference in their life
Then they could too
And everyone could make a difference
In everyone's life
Then the whole world could shine
Just as bright as the night sky.
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