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34i am rusting,
twisted, i cannot manage to breathe.
a half-healed wound caves in my chest,
give me a reason to exist. .
i have loved a boy with a heart like the moon,
but desperation bit in,
i did not drag him into it,
because i could never drag him out again.
tearing him apart is killing me, too.
i will let you in on a secret:
i have loved twice,
i still love.
wolf-boy [i still think of him as a star]
he did not know i am winter,
he tried to tame my seas.
my hero-boy, he knows,
knows when i am bitter and biting,
that is when i need him most.
i do not want to be a supernova,
i don’t want to kill everything i touch.
i am a supernova,
and a sea of tears will never change that.
tell me, have you heard this one before?
the story of the girl who broke it all,
miss cheated elsie,
she just wanted love,
but she broke broke broke like a mirror,
like the thread of the fates.
i am bitter,
like the bile rising at the back of my throat,
i will wear my hands to the bone,
writing like this,
i will search for a pulse and never find it,
after all, when was the last time a corpse
33can you feel it,
the ice in my lungs?
regrets for a thousand stories un-ended
[frost blossoms in my mind,
i’m rotting from the inside out.]
32they say that girls like me,
we'll never get anywhere,
except for three miles down the river,
broken boned and dead.
this numb isn't natural,
you aren't meant to be icy.
they hold a fire to our eyes,
and they burn us alive.
31 [sacrifice]i am smaller than the ocean,
but bigger than the burning,
bigger than the fire in my chest,
i have learned that this heart is too much,
it cracks ribs when it beats.
[i will take the pain, so you don't have to.]
30there is a tugging behind my eyes,
a throbbing in my aching mind.
it wishes to return to dust,
but i, i will not let it.
hypnos may take me,
but thanatos has a while to wait yet.
i still remember
the way you dug your claws into me,
you tried to make me stay.
maybe, maybe if you hadn’t,
i would have hung around.
as it was,
tearing myself away
is the hardest thing i’ve ever done,
except for healing, that is.
i didn’t show you,
didn’t let you know i was broken,
so you never tried to fix me.
in the end,
we were always doomed to shatter,
but i’m sorry we had to break that way.
you never knew why my favorite color is grey,
i would’ve told you, you know,
told you that it’s nondescript, like me,
told you that it’s underrated,
or maybe it’s just dull,
maybe it’s just like me.
i still remember the way
your words coated my ribs,
dripped stickily into my stomach,
where nausea was mistaken for butterflies.
for a moment, i mistook you for a star.
no, no wolf-boy,
you’re a cold blooded hunter,
i left my mark on you when i left,
and i don’t know if I forgive you or not.
28you will know you are a writer
when you see someone and say
God, I’d love to write a story about them…
but you don’t try,
because you think you know,
you think all stories end in tragedy.
Winter “You’ll catch your death that way,” she says. I do not listen. I never listen. Besides, that’s what I’m trying to do. Catch my death. Because maybe if I catch my death, he won’t catch me.
I watch my breath, cloudy in the frigid air, and keep looking into the steel grey sky, blinking whenever a snowflake manages to make it into my face.
“I’ll come inside when I’m good and ready,” I reply. She knows I won’t, that she’ll have to come out and get me when I’m soaked halfway through, shivering like a wet kitten and half-way catatonic.
I won’t admit that I’m cold, because halfway I’m not. The physical pain and numbness are better than their mental equivalent.
I’ve long since been nicknamed Winter, for days like this, when I come outside and let the elements beat on me, let them do their worst. It’s better than th
How to be Populardon’t talk
go to parties
listen to friends
go with the flow
drink some more
don’t let them see the tears
as you cry yourself to sleep
for the most important thing
is to be popular
i'm not going to lie and say she was perfect.her skin was spotted with what she passed off as freckles,
but what were really scars from a thousand summer suns
as she ran about outside,
climbing trees and treading rivers,
pretending to be an american bomber
in the midst of WWII.
she kept crimson stains on pearl pink lips,
which always had the habit of getting on her teeth
because she put on make-up after dressing in her car
and ordering coffee in every way she hated it
as she drove to the record store three times a day,
ignoring her job downtown.
she owned four and a half hairbrushes exactly,
i took count on the first night i stepped into that whirl-wind room,
though her lopsided up-dos of messy blonde hair revealed just how much her fingers
never broke the dust.
she had these lovely fragile hands
that showed each and every vein and bone,
the type of hands made for tearing boys like me apart.
how could i have even expected to survive,
a paper poet
held against a reckless flame?
Panic attackIt hits me like a wave,
These thoughts of fear and regret.
They swarm all around me,
Trapping me inside my own head.
Pretty soon, I am suffocating,
Please someone save me!
My heart beat races,
As does the thoughts that pick up the pace.
Of sending me memories I've kept and buried so long inside.
They've come back to haunt me tonight.
And as soon as it came,
It was gone,
Leaving me here.
And what was left of me,
The sound of silenceThe sound of silence,
Is so deafening,
That it makes my ears ring,
With the cacophony of my own insanity.
Being afraid to speakThe unpleasantries of past events
Were driven by the voices of contempt
Leaving me breathless
To that effect, I was left senseless
And when I laid under the covers
As I tried to warm myself from the cold stares
I shiver, as my skin turned white
By the solace of silence
But, as I overcame their sadness
I learned to embrace the cold
Until I was able to give warmth to others
DNAyou are content
because every day
you have the opportunity to
hug both sets of your DNA.
however, i am not content.
half of me is missing
and the other half
is hardly ever here.
Ideationlocked in a room
with only one escape,
or so it seems.
your hands shake and you drop the key.
Suddenly you're unsure.
Do I want to pick it up?
Do I want to find it?
Do I want to leave?
you think to yourself
there's no other choice.
find the key or corrode, or rust
wear down the hinge
use sadness as the key.
You have the answer now.
Just open the door.
Just walk outside and don't look back.
Let yourself leave with no regrets.
And yet you can't.
You're afraid, you think,
but you are actually strong.
Don't run away.
Don't take that leap.
my bedspread is white and so is my coffin.i can feel
the night closing
the stars are breaking
empty glass bottles
inside of my
mouth, and they taste like
ambien. bitter, then
but you still can't close your fucking eyes
little blue pills for
eyes– it was winter and i
dreams of nothing more than
nothing. the devil
tied chains around all the
vessels in my
body. laughed, and by god i
laughed too (and laughedandlaughedandlaughed).
this will all be over soon i swear i will take everything off your skin and bones and burn it up
and then january took the world
in it's grip and i
drowned in the snow that
will never hydrate the
can you hear that it's the night and it's so beautiful so come here darling and we'll watch the sun rise and set and rise and
Short PoemHer eyes return my gaze,
A gentle “Hello” at first glance.
Those chocolate brown coloured eyes,
So full of love and compassion.
Without a sound from my lips,
A solitary cry escapes.
Her serene marble-like stare,
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