Posts tagged 'poetry'
see kids, this is what happens when you don’t go to bed. fack.
you’re prettier to me
than a glass of whiskey
on my shittiest days.
feel better than a cigarette
hanging off the edge of my lips
when I’m crashing and falling
over the edge.
you make me uncomfortable
but you burn all the way down
and you taste good
"In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art."
you are a lost color
something talked about only in dreams
there are bits and pieces of you in my skin
in my spine.
your voice echoes and rattles my bones
you are the sea
your arms are wide open to catch me
like a net
to break my fall.
I am in no rush to finish this poem,
it is a work in progress
just like you and I
just like beginnings and endings
and how after a while they all start looking the same.
you are the brown earth beneath my feet
the sand that follows me home from the beach
the phantom waves
that continue to crash against my legs as I lay in my bed
and drift off to sleep.
your names are strung around me like
lights on the christmas tree
your names like a prayer on my lips
sacred and holy
young and innocent
old and experienced
we cannot predict the future
we can only do the best we can with what we are given
sometimes we are given roses
and sometimes we are…
I wrote a little something about the tragedy in Newtown. I can’t stop thinking about it and I have so many feels.
looks like Im on a Bukowski binge this morning..
It’s funny how small a word Fat is.
How something so short can stretch
for eternities when it escapes their lips.
It will get lost somewhere in the
extra inches of your hips, those three letters
jutting uncomfortably into your skin like
the buttons of the jeans you grew out of
speechless. this is amazingness.
how many times
I typed those words
and erased them
and typed them again
and watched as my finger
the games we play
all good things.
"trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky; we fell them down and turn them into paper,
that we may record our emptiness."
— khalil gibran
your words are empty
they flop around like a fish out of his
those tears you told me you cried
were they real?
or were they simply
a shimmering lie.
your skin is a map
and I became lost in the forest of your left
left a mark in the shape of the moon
where I lost my heart.