.love grewand died repeatedly;she tore it out atthe root
.i dug up thepast again, thosememories viciousand snarlingi set them looseinside the houseand now we haveto leave
.and if you evermanage to get inside myhead, i'll wish you luck
.you were a passingstorm, a tornado scribblingyour name in the sand
.some thoughts get so loud thatyou cry out for them to leave;they scatter like birds startledout of their trees, before landingagain where they wereand after a while,you just have tolet them sing
.he stood on the shore,and told the sea he loved her;the jealous wind tore hisvoice in two
.the breathin my lungs -you tookeverything
.does a weedever wonderwhy it isn'ta flowerdoes a treeever feel likeits roots areholding itdown
.your heartalone shouldremind younot to beatyourself upyour pulseshould remindyoukeep steady
.you pulledall the strings;now i connect morewith the puppet thani do the puppeteer
.just try not tothink ofthat memory, that onewolf that callsfor the restof the pack;you'll spend allnight howlingwith them insideyour head
.you're afraidto let anyonestoke the firein your chestfor fearyou will burnthem alive
.hell isthe devil's chest,an empty red cavernhe's simply tryingto fill
.some people are deadlong before they die -there's just no burialor cremation,no funeralfor the spirit
.you were life's newwork of art;small easel bonesand a blankcanvas of skinbut he ruined you over time,added the brushof a scaror two
.you brokea heart,convincedthat there wassomething goodinside
.and like a stone atthe bottom of the riveror the sea,i think life might just beflowing right past me
.a storm breaks insidehis mouth; my name washes upon his tongue, stranded
Endorsed By The Surgeon General.She was like cigarettes.She took his breathaway,and filled his lungs with promisesthat evaporated likesmoke.
Keep your secrets, wolfgirl.I have been suffocatingon the stars of my pastlike horny gentlemendo with innocent lookingwolfgirls at 3am- their bitefearless as thieves.My lilac lungs are breathing indust and the tears of Saturn’snameless moons,while the rest of me -well, shes warm off wineand poems leftunfinished.
LungsMaybe ifour lungsexhaled moneyinstead ofcarbon dioxide,we'd valuelifea little more(or maybe we'd just go broke).
War.If someone tells you, "War is hell." They lie.There are no innocents in hell.
VeinsI wishmy veinsof ocean blueflowed not justto my heart,but toyours too.
you're so blind.here i am drowningand you have no idea what to do,you're so lostand panicking.why don't you take your handsoff my shoulders?
Atelophobia Atelophobia The word sticks to my tongue like cotton candyThe sweet, fluffy combination of lettersstruggling to embody a correct connotationAnd even the dictionary definition seems sugarcoated:"Fear of imperfection."Is that what they say when I'm up until 3am,editing my English paper for the umpteenth timeThe tick-tock tick-tock of the clockpromptly proliferating the roomAnd I just sit there changing good to great,and peaceful to quiescent,hoping that my teacher will be drunk in his bungalowwhile he grades my chicken-scratch calligraphyAnd he’ll see stars instead of how horrid it isOr is that the word they use,when I struggle to consume a 25-calorie chunk of chocolatebecause I just know it will go straight to my hips,or when I step on the scaleand watch the black dashes zoom bylike a carousel spinning,And as the twirling and whirling makes me sick,I know throwing up still won’t make me thinAnd is that the term they mutterwhen I'm sob
A lesson in realism:you areonly human.There is no suchthing as stardustfloating in your veins orgloomy poetry stitchedright into your heart.Your blood is made ofiron - unbreakable,unbending and unmatchedby any other stronghold,for you are a fortressthat they will never invade.Stand up,darling;wipe those tears awayand know thatyou are the only onewho can reinforce these walls.
hauntedour house is hauntedmemories floating like ghostsscreaming without sound
.i shudderwhen you speak;your words arecold when theytouch me