her body endures scars each night, with no one to turn to, she bottles it all in with unsaturated doses of whiskey, while waiting impatiently for the sweet release of death. she finally got to witness death, it came rather late than she hoped for, but it did came, and only one color was
I loved you every day as the very first day and the very last I saw nothing else but you and felt all There could have ever been Brief little lightning ripples through me Through the wind They flower in your footsteps Yet form a fading path, not to you But to the abyss of
let go of those who makes your smile disappear don’t hold into something that makes your heartache open your heart and you’ll find those who would give you butterflies, they said. but, here I am, being stuck with you holding on to something the cause of my wounds wounds that bring comfort, as what
Your existence is poetry to me. You are like an accidental good read that was left undiscovered, The kinds where I never want the story to come to an end The kinds where as I flip the pages, I do not feel like I know the plot better, but rather, there’s so much more to
time clashes it’s whip against the fantasy of this world for mourning is to come, as anticipated but I look into your eyes and I see the ocean and it’s gems endless and shimmering with affection and acceptance I press my sneakers between the railings and screech embers fling from my mouth for I have
Sparkling eyes and tender flesh are shielded From the world in a tight hug. A photograph captures my father’s love. Gentle waves come home to shore, sloshing against the sand, A constant in this changing land. Sunset paints the azure sky, And its fiery orb disappears into cool gray water. A paradise in a different
Like the final kiss, you placed so indifferently on me while my heart was screaming ‘please don’t go’, words that my mouth was never able to tell. And now the night shares the story of us again, so I listen foolishly to keep you a little closer, for the promise you could never keep was
The sadness came and it didn’t look like you or the words that erupted like volcanoes from your vocal cords. It looked like me with my eyes wide watching every mistake I’ve ever made in the mirror on my bathroom wall. It looked like every last drop of alcohol that comforts my throat at 10
Tell me a reason to stay Tell me a story that makes me forget the pain Sing me a song that won’t break my heart But the whispers won’t let me listen to your beautiful voice There’s something through my eyes There’s something in my head But there’s nothing in my heart You wanna be
I’d let you break my heart in pieces to see the words they would become, emerging as poetry.
The battleground is my cathedral, But, there’s more to the story, than what it appears. A war written story, from blood and from tears. My son went to war, a very proud man. He fought in Rajasthan, on the hot desert sands. He witnessed his buddies, his comrades, his men, bleeding and dying, he witnessed
I can feel my lungs collapsing with every shallow breath and I can’t decide if it’s the holes left behind, from cigarette smoke burns, Or the pieces of me that followed behind you. It’s 1:05 now and as much as I keep trying to warp the truth, the minutes tick on leaving me stranded in
Huddled in a corner with a pen the paper blots up tears and ink and offers no hope of surcease to seeds of panic poised to grow. If only a little rain would fall. // my eyes adjusted to the dark last night of the light that fades in, flickering in
He knows what he wants and it’s not me, she’s quiet, distant she’s not the one on your mind at 3am when you’re drunk enough to sing bad karaoke // Her eyes glistened with unshed tears while the 3am darkness haunts her reminding her of her lost ones a part of her forever gone. Pieces
falling for you was easy, it doesn’t feel like falling at all it was quiet, as quiet as your smile it’s serene, feels like I am coming home after years of floating around in a sea.
The mole above his lip, at the left side, the way his lips curled when he smiled, the way he adjusted his specs and his messy hair fell on his forehead… Yup… I fell head over heels within a few fragments of time…but didn’t mean you knew everything about me likewise. But, if you are
Sparkling eyes and tender flesh are shielded From the world in a tight hug. A photograph captures my father’s love. Gentle waves come home to shore, sloshing against the sand, A constant in this changing land. The sunset paints the azure sky, And its fiery orb disappears into cool gray water. A paradise in a
Little boy Who do you weep? A father? A mother? A sister drowned in a river so deep Little boy Why do you weep? the colorful holiday has turned bleak Happy children drowned Corpses drifted along the stream Dawn began with joy And the sun sat with grief Little boy Don’t hide your tears For
Her thoughts were rancid, like bile in the back of the throat, because her insides were rotting away, infected by the black, putrid thing that she called her soul. It was putrid in a way that permeated every gelatinous sinew of her body, her organs, her bones, her muscle tissue, her very skin was utterly
They say past lives don’t exist They aren’t real We just need to hear about ourselves It’s how we cope, just how we deal. We only exist until we don’t DNA is why we’re “unique” Horoscopes and the cosmos are for a mind that’s meek We romanticize as shortcuts to answers we seek. Yet we
My lipstick Stains his addictive tip His intoxicating bliss Caresses my lips Suppressing that itch Only addicts know When they crave their fix I’m addicted to his Bad habits He’s my nicotine trip So I chain smoke him every time I need a fix. I don’t know why guys smoke so much, I love my
I only wish to be by your side I wish for it every single night, but you didn’t bring me along for the ride, in fact, you didn’t take notice until I was out of sight. Bury me alive, don’t leave me at the door. I’ve been stretching this drive down to the corner store.
for now I have been caught in the glimpse of you, and now I understand. you are a nomad in the wind, a nomad in the sunless afternoon, whose soul runs restlessly wild. and though your stay may be short, to not live these moments with you at all, it would certainly would have been
I was buried in a pleasant cemetery, Beyond the walls of the city, Near the banks of the Mississippi, When my body was stolen from the Ground. I died as I lived, languid and cold, My corpse interred beneath stone too old, My heart placid, as hard as gold, When my body was stolen from
when i left you i left you with words. words i regret. they taint my dreams with delicate pain and even music cannot block them out because the music is you you are everything! everywhere. you are the green waves on a Summer’s morning you are the sushi shop down the road you are the
as the stars trickle down from the sky they take the form of raindrops every time they splatter down on me I feel every shattered aspiration in those little splashes of starbursts I feel them stab into me demanding to be set free. crushing a dream is like ripping the wings from a butterfly and
I was ready. I was ready to fall again. ready to jump without any hesitation. To see my lips form a smile for another person. To feel the butterflies in my stomach come alive again. To know that I’m falling and someone’s going to catch me, as soon as possible, before I hit the ground
This one means a lot to me, kind of got emotional towards the end. Let me know how was this for you, cheers guys ❤ ❤ Hope looked like red. As my father laid on uneven ground, Blood seething from his gunshot wound, While he slumped in a puddle of red liquid, Looking towards my
touch me just enough to awaken a tingling sensation brush your soft fingers yet long polished nails along the canvas of my body a shade of sapphire blue – gems on all fingers yet you bear no rings – paint me an image that is invisible yet imprinted through frail motions paint me an image
Hurting yourself will not help anyone else – I watch the ink run down my arm the pen, writing the feelings I could never explain with words; sitting on my bathroom floor never led to anything but unwanted art.