May 2013
5 posts
1 tag
lomigoods:
I’m sixteen again when you say name And my skin still crawls when our knees knock underneath the table And the look in my eyes is the same one you saw on the first night you held me only intensified tenfold These are the things that make me think forever or at least for now or even just for five minutes to know the way our skin feels when there’s nothing in between us...
1 tag
hunnyfucks:
I can anticipate the setting of the sun,
impending doom,
lurking darkness,
making the sweet moments sweeter,
though they end with a bitter afterthought.
My heart’s been stretched enough already
bound to the north, but now
the east and south and west.
To miss one is unbearable,
to miss many is impossible,
so much so that heart of your mind will
decide for you who you get...
“This is the last poem that will
ever fashion it’s backbone from
the hollow...”
– Montana, Clementine von Radic (via floralnymph)
“This silence will fall
and all that you never said
will smother my ears.”
– Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)
April 2013
15 posts
4 tags
4 tags
I think I finally understand
You
And why you stood
With paper death
At the door of your lips
Like you didn’t care
If it took
You
1 tag
Till death to us part
or till your heart’s not in it?
And once your heart has turned to stone
you’re halfway dead already.
So what’s the point
of holding on
anyways?
positivenergy:
someone once told me
to tell all my secrets into a seashell
and then throw it into the ocean.
so that I would feel relieved
and so that the only thing that would know me
is the sea.
“Your hands find pockets
and your chin finds your chest when
I compliment you.”
– Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)
“You have to die a few times before you can really
live.”
– Charles Bukowski, The People Look Like Flowers at Last (via unamalditaflorecita)
“I want to share every single one of your sunshines and save some for later. I...”
– Sarah Kay & Phil Kaye (via lidde)
March 2013
4 posts
4 tags
I want to know your body
Like I was made for it
I want to know the birth mark on your ass shaped like Texas
I want to make a constellation from the freckles on your back
And trace them with my lips
Till we come back down to earth
I want to know the way your hair falls as the morning shows it’s face
And the way your eyes squint as you’d wish it’d go away
I want to plant tiny...
3 tags
As hard as I tried to put away the thought of all before
Forever was a secret treasure buried deep in a drawer
Tried to tell myself it was just a four letter word in the aftermath
Just to help myself get along for all after that
It worked a few times and thought I was free of it
But there’s nothing harder to rid yourself of than a feeling
Once you held me close like I was made out of...
“The hardest part of writing is not killing yourself.”
– Benedict Smith (via benedictsmith)
January 2013
2 posts
Sometimes I don’t write for a really long time and that makes me sad.
But then I get sudden inspiration and I get so happy.
Even if I write the shittiest piece of poetry the world has ever seen,
it’s feels so good.
3 tags
separation anxiety
I don’t understand it
just the fragility of it
and how it’s true that
“nothing gold can stay”
it feels
so good
too good
it’s destruction
inevitable
impending doom
it’s tip-towing
around the truth
of what we both know
will one day come
November 2012
2 posts
4 tags
lomigoods:
I fell in love with a boy in a dream
gestures soft,
and words small
but his heart is big enough to contain
all the love I need.
He looks just like you.
4 tags
I used to want to save the world
but it was too big a task for
me
a girl with limp wrists
and ashy knees
so then I thought I’d save the country
but it didn’t hear my voice
muffled by dead-eyed politicians
so loud, so stern, so wrong
and so stiff
then I thought I’d save my city
but still I found myself lost
in a sea of differing opinions
then among the crowd I found...
October 2012
3 posts
2 tags
But if tears bought plane tickets
I’d be writing the symphony of your smile
instead of the eulogy of love.
3 tags
I want to find you
Like quarters in my sofa
Small dusty treasures
-
I want to fit you
Like a puzzle
Make sense of all your pieces
-
I want to know you
Like my favorite novel
Touch me again
September 2012
1 post
3 tags
Sad songs sing truths
the happiest tune can’t hold.
This, my song for autumn,
the fall-
from the heights of summer.
Remembering the nights we felt alive,
because we were.
With eyes wide,
capturing every goodness
like tiny fireflies in a jar.
A jar which is no longer illuminated.
I’ve already forgotten the songs we sang,
just weeks ago.
Because those were the happy ones,
...
July 2012
5 posts
“I like my body when it is with your body.”
– E.E. Cummings (via wrapmeinpaper)
The danger's in the waiting: I’m sixteen again... →
hunnyfucks:
I’m sixteen again
when you say name
And my skin still crawls
when our knees knock
underneath the table
And the look in my eyes
is the same one you saw
on the first night you held me
only intensified tenfold
These are the things
that make me think forever
or at least for now …
1 tag
The danger's in the waiting: I just want to lay... →
hunnyfucks:
I just want to lay with you and feel your skin on mine. I want to feel the curvature of my body against yours. I want my hands to scale your bare, back, shoulders, chest, everything. I want your hands to do the same to me. I want to hear your sleepy voice whisper me beautiful things. I want to…
June 2012
2 posts
2 tags
I know the words to you all too well.
But there is comfort in your song.
I have sung the words
time and time again
until it has become
a mainstream pop song
unoriginal and overplayed.
It is time I learn the song of someone new,
and sing it until they, too, are stuck in my head.
5 tags
May 2012
10 posts
1 tag
4 tags
Many moons have shown their faces
since I have last seen yours
but I still know the shape of your body:
the crook of your arm around my waist,
the flare of your nostrils,
and the sunken treasure of your eyes.
It is quite likely I could
study the surface of the night’s watchful eye
and never know it the way I know you
and your most crooked smile.
3 tags
thegiganticsquid:
I thought I understood it That I could grasp it But I didn’t Not really I knew the smudgeness of it The pink-slippered-all-containered-semi-precious eagerness of it I didn’t realize it would sometimes be more than whole The wholeness was a rather luxurious idea Because its the halves that halve you in half Didn’t know Don’t know about the in between bits The gore-y bits of you...
1 tag
"Their Girl"
I tried to write a poem called
“My Boys”
Though they were never mine.
They were their mama’s boys,
and their father’s sons.
I’m still trying to write it now
“My Boys”
they’re the lost boys,
that found themselves,
discovered me.
So I guess
this is really called
“Their Girl”.
4 tags
Awkward.
cageandkey:
“It is just a poem”, he said. “It is not that even good “, he said. “It doesn’t capture who you are”, he said. “I mean… whatever”, he said. “Shut up and kiss me”, she said.
2 tags
“But she is not the woman I used to know, the woman who traveled a countryside...”
– My Sister’s Keeper
