because I'm sad damn itI need to find a way to be okay Because right now? Right now I am drowning And my lungs only fill with air long enough For me to say “I’m not okay now but I will be”because I'm sad damn it
And that might be true But right now it’s not enough Right now I need something more than everyone’s “time heals everything”'s and “it was always going to be hard”'s and “this is his way of dealing”'s and “you’re better off”'s Right now I need something better Than everyone else’s prescription for my happiness When they do not know how I
I don't live here anymoreThis isn’t how you said the end would be I’m left vertical on the side of this skyscraper now Suckers for hands and feet but it started raining four days agoI don't live here anymore
and they’re beginning to peel away
i am getting paler each day I rang the operator and he said it was because
The pump in my heart is broken
And the tiny, tiny roads in my body are dry
Everything is grey
Even before you left I noticed the colour slipping away
We were watercolour washed over newspapers Our covers ripped off and all our stories exposed We are so last month
stagesWhen I was eight I made a name for you in a blue heart on my wrist And told the moon you would save me some day Hushed and pearlescent, it only smiled Having endured confessions of little girls in oversized t-shirts everywhere That nightstages
13 candles And your hand on mine We blew together and I wished for a boat Peeling paint on salt weathered boards And the name “cherry pie” on the side You said you wished for grey clouds
In my fifteenth year Brown scrappy locks and freckles We crawled under the racecourse fence Torn shirts and r
smile minus voltageMy eyes are man holes, avoidedsmile minus voltage
like the beggar by the corner shop
in need of change. He is ignored, I am
just as cold, with my three coats and even more layers
under this wrapping paper skin. I am unused teeth
and like an abandonned stomach something clatters
inside, glaring at passers by, wanting to be loud, wanting to be seen.
These homeless hands do not work well anymore, they touch last-years skin like a solitary sigh with stories to tell, of a heart with no more stapled on love to spare, just hooks and dirty laundry under blankets and a blue bicycle a b
this poem is me1.this poem is me
I started this poem at midnight with cigarette smoke choking my skin
and the outside air clogging up
my cold lungs.
The damp floor stole my seat, so I just stood in the dark looking up.
2.
I see nothing-ness, just black with the occasional pale yellow moon clambering into my view. I like how eyelashes curl upwards
and the blue of your irises, but that doesn’t matter, not now everything has squeezed into shadow.
And the clouds - well they just hold onto happy things, letting go of the ugly
&nb
Devious Journal Entry
P.
--
@kleurvision
--
...we're only breathing...
i got my flight booked out of this place on the 1'st of march, 25 days before my 20th. . whoa it's crazy i'll be gone for three years. . but the point it, we have to catch up and start hanging out, have a few drinks and talk some crap, if your ever bored give me a msg, you know what to do, anywya the girl, don't forget me and have a merry christmas
Previous Page1234Next Page