[x]

go to sleep for the love of godi kind of feel like ripping my face off.

look-
it's not one of those sad, suicidal stories. i mean, if i believed in suicide in the way that means i could do it, then yeah, it would be. but i don't, and i guess you're kind of lucky for that because now you can go to sleep with a clear conscience.

i won't ever tell you about how many pages and books and scraps of paper and unsent text messages and notes on the backs of my hands i've written for you, or how inarticulate you were when you wanted to say how you felt. i won't ever tell you how i wished for a few words that could tell me that i was loved, even a little, and i sure as fuck won

preemptive breakup poemif anyone ever tells you your sadness isn't physical,
show them the ache in your bones,
the raw skin on your arms or wrists or hips or thighs,
the imprint of your foetal body on your mattress from the days you couldn't bear to leave.

and you see this?
this is what hurt looks like.
i want you to look closer, lean in a little until you can feel the sadness on my breath
and i want you to watch my eyes. count how often they blink and count how many of them are forcing back words i still can never say.
i don't want you to miss a second of how you make me feel.

i want to be what keeps you up at night
i want to be the reason you can't eat

it's an analogy for you.your sweatshirt became ghost to me.

lovedrunkshe looks at me, all big doe eyes and cupid-bow lips, tells me, now i'm not trying to say i'm about to kill myself, but i'm about to kill myself.

the traffic light is glass. not that it's reflective, not that it's bright, but that it's so slow, a liquid, moving like a year. it's also what my blood has become with these words.

we're in my car but i'm scared. i know i'm the one behind the wheel, but i don't know what she's got in her purse. i don't know her name but i do know she's drunk. so am i. i know we shouldn't be driving but i couldn't leave such sad eyes at a bar. i guess, if i'm being entirely honest, i also couldn't leave suc

schadenfreudei found love
in your bone structure,
troublingly beautiful
with your soul worn across your lips.

you remind me of the sunshine
i lost in the circles
i left behind
to find someone an ocean
less far.

instead,
i am here,
watching the birds take flight
from the edges of your mouth,
watching their wings curl
with every word
strained with an accent
owned by my ancestors
born on ships.

i want you to tell me again
about the times
you found a purity in his eyes,
the blank skin upon which
they were set like jewels
and those when
you grinned cheekily
when i told you how
terribly beautiful
you really were.

i find myself wis

cumbersomei cannot say what i need to say,

there are many, many things we cannot talk about:

the military, its ploys,

its gunmetal toys;

the way a gap in the teeth

draws a crinkle like cellophane

to a face once filled

with green eyes and irish love;

the r's thrown deep into

the charles,

the dirty water in which

boys with lesser sense

might find themselves;

the greenery and celtic landscape;

and you,

entirely you,

you in full-

i cannot talk about you

because i miss you so much my heartache has a heartache

like acid reflux burning my body

and it is just so unbearably sad

to know

that none of this can be fixed

because in less than a

why jk rowling embodies depression as dementorsi wanted to talk to you about happiness
but i don't think anyone in this room is qualified to talk about something
they probably don't know much about, and
how it spends most of its time
seeping out of your skin in whatever ways it can
because maybe your body is too toxic for it.

that's when you start having your moment.

the moment when you're not sure
how to be alive,
when strings become nooses
in the stars of your eyes,
thin objects mock your bones
and the instruments of your heart
act like knives thirsting for blood.

pavement shatters underfoot.
the cracks become teeth,
sharp and unfriendly as you pass;
they're grey, great

sugar freetoday my stomach told me i got a letter from you.
it clenched and cursed,
seeing my name on an envelope with no stamp,
cursive writing and no return address.
i didn't know.

once i did though, my stomach swung
its angry fists and crowed,
I TOLD YOU SO.

it was right.

my hands were like stoplights
in a hurricane,
malfunctioning and saying stop
when i turn green,
shaking with each gust.

i don't want to read how you are
or if you still love me.
i don't want to feel anything
or see you in my mind's film reel,
now shorn and with glasses,
but worst,
in uniform.

it makes me swoon on my feet
and not in that lustful, romantic, 1950s way
but the kin

the destruction of destructioni leave
toenail clippings
bobby pins
&empty watter bottles
on your floor
in case you decide to forget me.

this is just our dynamic
this is just how our relationship works.
i read you chapters of the
silliest,
strangest book i know
&you have me create
voices for each character.
i am most comfortable as the narrator,
plain &unassuming,
but you like my crazier caricatures best.

it reminds me of how you like
the stranger ways my mind works,
&how you will pry sharp things
from my clawed fingers
&show up late for work
just to make sure i eat;

the hateful frustration i feel
when my body yearns for its
self destruction
only to be thwarted by somet

wasting usi want you, ok
i want you to be on your knees
all scraped and red and raw
like you're a child again
because that's all you ever
were
i want you to be aching
the way i've been aching
since the last rays of summer
said goodbye to us,
goodbye to us
and i want you to never forget
that just because
you don't remember my birthday,
that doesn't mean
you'll ever,
ever
forget the feel of my skin
on yours
for the first time
and that someday
this memory will stop hurting.
it never will,
and i promise you this:
every time it crosses your mind-
while you wait at the bus stop,
during a chemistry exam,
the next time a girl touche

a letter to ethanyou're fifteen minutes away.

that's a quarter of an hour, that's ten miles, that's space enough that i never have to see you again.

but still i feel my heart beating like a rabbit's foot against my rib.

look.

i'm a girl still in denial
of being a woman with
breasts and hips and a womb.
i'm a child with my heart and i will surrender it foolishly
to the first boy to give me roses and push them into my hair.
i don't know how to love,
the way i don't know how how to stop.

but let me tell you this- it happens.
they both do.

i loved your fragile brown eyes like i'd never seen a warmer fire.
i sank my bones like an anchor to

this is less of a love poem and more of athere is something to be said
about resisting the temptation
to start out with a bang.

the hallway of your neck
has never lost its scent
and it's something, i swear,
i swear, i can never forget

because it's something surreal
to wake up while you're asleep
and feel you pull me closer
til our faces almost meet-

but please,
hold onto that almost,
hold onto it like stardust.

you need to touch me in a whisper
because it's been too long
since i've felt the hand of someone
who actually meant it,
someone who actually meant something

and i'm so glad, my god,
i'm on my knees
i am praying to(o,) my god
that we won't burn out so qu

if my body could talkit's probably not a good thing
when what you want to say
to your ex boyfriend
is the same
as what your body
wants to say to you:

i don't know why
i still insist on you
when you want
nothing to do with
me;

you don't care for me
the way you did
before;

i wish everyday
that things
would change;

you are ruining me;

i don't know how to
deal with what you're
putting me through;

why can't you love me;

everything you do
hurts me
and i know it shouldn't
matter
but everything that matters
shouldn't, i guess.

what i think i mean
is i need you
to give me my soul back-
i am killing this flesh
without it.

you arei want a city ruined
every time you love me.
i want to show how loudly i shake,
enough to break
faults and how it will never be yours,
and bring down skylines
when you aren't here.

there are seven weeks until my blood runs blank,
but it is so full tonight
it could drown a man.
i hope it drowns you,
the way it carries the only beautiful thing about me
to you;
my heart, my love.

it's time you pull together
your telephone wires and breathe stars
back into my body-
it was so dark without you.
there was no moon,
just the kind of black
you know could be no emptier.

i am effulgent again
with the ways i've needed to feel,
i am

sandstormthere is sand in my teeth
from days i don't remember;
hot-sun deserts singeing
the hairs on the back of my neck,
feet back from burns:

i know what it's like
playing with fire.
i know how to perch
like birds on my thin toes
along a wire,
i know the electricity
coursing through the rubber,
a centimetre from death:
i have yet to fall.

precarious placements
on precarious precipices,
i am wondering if my wings still work,
or if i've purged them out;
if they've atrophied from my back,
or filled with bile.

the sand shifts
and i am looking at bone.
a skeleton, full and articulate.
the desert has charred him black;
his skin has

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~do-they-collide Feb 13, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

everything about this is simply gorgeous.

*ohsostarryeyed Feb 28, 2013

than you, my dove

~xxlifeisworthitxx Feb 12, 2013

This is beautiful. Heart-wrenching, but so beautiful.
I hope you're doing alright.

*ohsostarryeyed Feb 28, 2013

thank you dear

~Saidye Feb 10, 2013 Student General Artist

I love this but I hope you're okay.

*ohsostarryeyed Feb 28, 2013

i love you

~Saidye Mar 1, 2013 Student General Artist

I love you, though.

*ohsostarryeyed Mar 6, 2013

i love you as well!

~Saidye Mar 6, 2013 Student General Artist

~Aquarius-Claire Feb 10, 2013 Student Writer

ily

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