you haven't affected me like this in a really long time.
I was never interested in getting revenge. dating Matt was just because I was dating Matt, I really liked him, I wanted to be with him. I never told him not to see you, too. It was like sharing or something.
but sometimes I'm fifteen, staring at my bookshelves as I let you tell me that I'm not really good enough. I get it. I understand. I know. You were definitely never as gay as me and probably were never gay at all.
my room smells like you and I want it to stop.
What I'm trying to say is thanks. If you weren't so shallow, ignorant, and unwilling to change, my back would always be hunched when I walked past you.
BUT MY SPEAKING VOICE IS AS SMALL AS A BARGE.
I know she'd say,
you should take it back, plunge
the words into the throat
where they were born.
brambles like those won't touch my fingers again.
but I've finally
thin skin, blue,
riddled with veins,
battered, Napoleon's soldiers,
curled round the dinner table after a
long day at the office.
strong hands curl around full wrists,
subtle new blood making up for years of neglect.
an angel kissed her way down your spine,
and blessed you with the
you and I, the easiest small unit.
steeped in cold.
(Will I have to ask to die? Will I?)
A cure for death in baby hands,
quick pedestals you can't control.
there's no time to be anything more than I am,
flighty and fighting.
Will you struggle into my hands?
Will you snarl at the last shreds of my skin?
The tears and tears and rips that bind me to you.
I will steal your death.
Take the tendons from my arms,
snap the cradle of my ribs,
draw veins open along my legs.
I will keep it for myself.
You never forget your first time.
One day I will shake your hand.
You will live forever.
My first and favorite vampire.
But after that first breach,
After the first exchange,
the first as each other's,
the very first bound exchange,
you should have realized you could never hold what I have to offer.
these pedestals will crumble,
the world will implode.
everything will crash into itself;
smaller and smaller,
inconceivable steps towards breaking.
the particles will become compact in a way they never were.
The Law of Conservation of Mass.
but in any case.
I will curl
into fists in my lap,
careful to say it back.
I love you too.
Quiet imaginings cannot change that.
My heart is yours.
A luckier man
would not have to wait for my
my spiking spidered handwriting never fails.
(and thus it never fails;
words from my mouth
are always too much for me.)
the fingers that cut a rug
with words I can't pronounce or say
are the same that twist,
useless in my lap,
when you're around.
skittering tools of hate
they itch with what I can't convey
bone dust tilting downwards as the heart chisels up
waxing in my chest
glorious but nothing new, nothing i didn't have before
i have waited for you for a long time
but it's nothing i can't handle for a few more years
new in the corner of my eye
shocks to the system--so this is what all of it was
no reason for me to avoid you except rejection
full throughout me
i have been given wings,
but i know not how to work them.
how can i be yours like this?
(The Sun Also Rises: maybe today is my day)
we are not strangers,
passing on the sidewalk.
I am not trapped in a tower,
vambraces versus embraces.
I am not a spider.
You are not trapped in my web
but you will not have me again.
(are you going? are you coming? are you)
swirling, quiet, bright
out of the cadence of your voice
the loss of which deafened me
you told me of breaking
of making a life of what you had lost
(don't pity yrself,
you have fingers that press;
you have sonnets that scream--
sad suns, sums of several sons!--
stars burning in stovepipes,
and a voice that sweetly speaks.)
I am too afraid to be too in love,
and both lead to hate.
for some professor to
richness, more bold and indulging than I
harsh, empty words between us,
the moon moving too far,
fat in my window then gone,
i was relieved.
there is nothing so
as the realization that, this way,
my hand would be forced.
brush your hair from your eyes--
but the moon hangs, content,
under the eaves of my porch.
knowing that i would end
up wasting you.
wishing for white dresses,
cloth the color of the moon,
as it moves quietly out of my sight.
you told me i was incredible.
for the first time,
once in all occurrences,
i believed the words
as they pushed past your teeth.
it is almost a shame,
knowing that you meant them, too.
1) Finished pieces may be of any length, as long as they are to the author's satisfaction. Few things are sadder than a beautiful poem stuffed with extra lines or whittled down to fit.
2) Non-contest pieces may still be published; Write-Off pieces will be published with the "write-off" tag. These pieces are to be counted at the end of the month.
3) One may publish old, previously unpublished work but the opponent reserves the right to scowl disappprovingly.
4) Tumblr entries are not official entries, as Tumblr hasn't any tags.
5) The contest ends at 12:00:00 a.m., 1 September.
6) The loser will buy the winner lunch at the establishment of the winner's choosing, or the winner may request a home-cooked delight (this must fall within the loser's skill range and the loser is not responsible for mad-difficult dishes.)
One of us is going down, and it won't be me.
*By "everything you see here," I refer only to this particular post. Just putting that out there.
it's killing killing me,
from the top of my lungs to the bottom of my feet.
screaming screaming nonsense to nonentities.
I think I'm a parasite,
taking until you just won't give anymore;
too close for comfort but too heavily dependent to go.
I don't know how I will survive
the moon in my window,
just out of reach.
Tide's going out,
moon's waxing, waning, full and then empty again.
My blood's pulled around,
moved by the phases of you.
When the moon moves too far,
stops controlling the heat of my body,
how will I breathe?
How can I laugh,
without my blood stretched too thin?
god damn I am like king of the emo bitches. wtf.
une main contre une main,
des dents contre ma peau
quand tu ne me repondre,
est-ce a cause de moi?
des mains oisives sont les ateliers du Diable
tes mains ne sont jamais oisives
la confusion--une affaire de les lettres
une affaire comme tes mains
(marie carie--la maladie ou la medecin?
je les falsifie, mais avec d'entraînement...)
ai-je faire croire tes mains?
heartbroken, heady hymns of heavy hums.
When you spoke,
I went to kiss you
gentle brush of lips.
Mine on yours.
The last time
I felt this
was not with someone
(You opened your eyes...)
You opened your mouth,
watched as truth spilled out.
I overflowed with hope,
beamed at the chance to catch it
would you listen to me cry?
Could you help me peoplewatch?
Can we stay around each other for hours,
but not kissing either?
Could you go without it?
I cannot help but compare you to her, love. Long legs, short bodies. Stretched out hearts. Eyes as wide as I. I cannot bear to attach you to her in my mind, for fear that you will become as she was. I apologize to both of you, in advance, in hindsight, for hiding you away in secret places, especially when they weren't where you wanted to be. (even my hindsight falls short of twenty-twenty.) I want to waltz with you. I want to place my hands on your hips and feel something not quite unrequited. I want you to break my heart.
1056. It is not nice to be around me.
1057. It is not wise to be around me.
1058. It is not safe to be around me.
and thus it progresses. quiet quiet. it's too late to expect goodness from this soul.
full mouths are for yawning
empty hands for drawing
half-eaten hearts for scorning
two in the morning i'm tired
walking the tightrope electric, inspired
insipid incognizant liars
quagmires, sticky situations where I'm always trapped
three in the morning I hope I'm dreaming
leaning too far, picturing your eyes gleaming
but i hope you'll figure out that I always get what I want.
my skin looks at me, says,
"this isn't art,"
"you miss him too much,"
"i'll miss you so much."
hairs on my chest stand up stand erect waiting for me to fall
banking on my sleep
but sleep is for the weak,
for the week
and it's still maybe the weekend
sleep is for when i work, when i function
when for every you there is only one me
y's and x's
exes and ohs
sleep is for when i'm _____.
what's a five letter word for delirious?
what's a five letter word for joy?
I love the concept of this video. Various people were interviewed and it was then animated in the zoo. I love it. The jaguar is, of course, my favorite--"I need-a the space!" Nick Park is a genius. The highlight is when the smallest polar bear asks if her father enjoys lion steak as well as regular steak; this is a clear conclusion for a small child who had perceived the conversation as being strictly about the zoo, but an embarassing moment for her mother (who truly has no right to be embarassed, because she has trouble making her point or even forming a sentence when she tries to assert that animals should be confined in the zoo--"I think it's much better to be in, um...bars, because, um..." at about 2:56).
A while ago I lost all of my Meg & Dia, but I have (some of) it back! The Great Computer Crash of 2007 and the Second, Smaller Loss of Data of 2008 continue to thwart me, even months after they occured. >[ life.
My dad shared with me some excellent music. I'm really enjoying Pete Yorn, because he's a really solid songwriter, and Sugarcubes, because Bjork. Carla Bruni's first album, Quelqu'un M'a Dit, is just as enjoyable as a whole as the last song ("La Derniere Minute") AND as her sophomore effort (No Promises, the lyrics of which were all--mostly? idk--Anglophone poems). Check all three artists out or die.
I will start writing again. I will start writing again. I will start writing again. I'm working on a story. For once, I'm hoping this will go somewhere.
My tongue rests behind my teeth. My fingers fall carefully to the keys. My words sit heavy in my lap.
You are the rose I will ask for.
and he will never know that three days later i think about his red chilled cheeks teeth clenched against the cold and fists braced in his pockets. just like you will never know how close i came how close i would let myself get to you
my skull is falling apart i'm out of painkillers and it's too late to go to the store. my hair clings to my head like sleep to my eyeballs and if i'm a puzzle i'm missing a few crucial pieces
would you tell me?
i will never dust off the puzzle in the corner it has too many missing end pieces. you will never blow the dust off the good book because you can't be bothered to read more than a little.
people ask me all the time what's the date and what's the time and my internal clock's so screwed i couldn't even answer you when you asked if time's a lake or just a river with no end
i want to take a hammer to a watch and watch the cogs spring out and off quartz fingernails on leather jackets diamond ink in empty packets sand in digits hot and loose but you in me too far and close (how close how close?)
could you give me more than that? you're just yourself til you loan it. you're just a sheep so let's clone it. a name's a name but i own it. shakespeare said it best but maybe i'm no rose, just a closed mine closed mind
will you tell me a lie?
i stand on one leg a toy soldier or a crane and i'll empty rivers in pursuit of you mine is an honorable task and how could it be anything else when i stand so sharp and handsome in my tattered tin uniform?
love follows you home.
your word was too sharp,
pushes too hard through my teeth:
pushes to break.
you had a promise to keep,
the week of my worry got too close, too close.
i can't breathe without you.
you won't follow me down.
you will not follow me home.
they would still find your fingerprints
like track marks
bruising me perfectly:
tattoos on my retinas from your smile,
engravings on my teeth from your kiss.
if we were keeping score,
they'd base it on your handprint on my hip
on the secrets in my knees
on the guesses it takes for me
to figure out what's in your pockets.
you're no Bilbo, but you'd still be ahead
they'll say one! two! three!,
fast and empty
and we both know i will let you win.
if we were a fairytale,
you'd be offering me a pomegranate.
It would only be a moment before i let you in.
i'd watch the light play off your face
and we'd both know i'd take it before you got bored.
if i could show you one more time,
see your imperfect and beautiful features,
your large, strong, knobby fingers,
the way your smile lingers,
view all of it through a possesive lens
(but not the type that comes without true possession),
if i could have that one more time,
no candles or romance,
just you, one more time,
i think i'd be satisfied.
and i smell you everywhere i go.
your fingers like spiders across my web of little white lies lie awake and stare at the ceiling feeling empty feeling whole feeling holy. i am so tired but i can't close my eyes.if i only think in numbers will you let me close my eyes? if i only dream in colors will you kiss my sleep goodnight?
i am so glad i think in nonsense.
sleep is upon us (knock-knock-knocking on my god damned door).
good night, moon.
rose pedals, bike petals
flowers in the street
on the sheets
will the real hartbreaker please stand up?
she's got an empty bottle and a sore throat,
walking past the elevators
she looks at the sky and shouts,
WILL YOU BE THE ONLY ONE
only it comes out garbled and cold
but she won't go to sleep until sunshine fills her cells.
She wants to glow.
She wants the glow.
Incandescence is her greatest goal.
i am the water under your bridge.
i am the dirt under your nails
(because there's always dirt under your nails)
i will always be here,
revolving and resolving and recalling shit that has never ever happened
who's gonna burn you?
who will tear you down?
i am invincible, whereas you are vulnerable.
you rely on me.
why would you give that much of yourself?
it's an impossibility--i'm someone else
as i dangle the car keys in front of your eyes
"oh no, not today. that brake will be my demise."
my name's close to mary keychain on your heart
an instrument's a long way from making art
i'll hit the button (where's the god damned nurse?)
my televised contract soliloquy curse
i can't wait forever
i will taste it on your skin (your skin your skin)
hope kills me and keeps me alive like a drug like a drip like electricity running through my veins. i reek of the bright side. i draw castles in the air like they'll sweep me away, magic sulfuric fires of aspiration with a longing stench and a lethal, slow burn. it's telling how i can't tell you. this thing with feathers will torture me indefinitely.
for once i'm writing from someone else's perspective. empathy means none of these emotions were mine.
going to see a man about some pills. soon. later. sooner rather than later.
i want to bathe in it. i want my lips to bleed with it. i want my veins to empty and refill with it. i think i could survive on it. like a vampire. love would be my only sustenance.
someday i will close my eyes and not see you on my lids. someday i will open them and i won't be disappointed when i don't see your face.
i think about it all the time.
je ne suis pas celle pour toi, je sais. je ne suis pas que tu as pensé.
ils ont pas idée;
et comme chaque mot je parle tu es de moins en moins mon garçon.
il y a une grande quantité que tu ne sais pas.
(ainsi ne dis pas que tu sais, ne dis pas que tu sais!
je n'aurai pas ta mensonge sur mes mains.)
y-a-t'il rien que tu n'as perdu?
mais moi, la dauphine du territoire que tu as pris--
ma coeur! très seduisant, très vide--
je ne sais pas la moitie de ce que, j'assume.
que mes baisers deviennent les mots d'amour que je ne te dis pas:
nous embrasserons de nouveau et de nouveau et de nouveau.
et tu sais, cela m'a choqué en amour,
quelque chose comme un millier de volts.
Ce n'est pas poesie.
C'est un priere.
Ne fais pas cette erreur.
(Mais je fais ces erreurs de nouveau et de nouveau et de nouveau...)
equates love to beauty
day to night
SHE takes what SHE thinks SHE needs,
ignores what SHE needs for weeks
SHE threw the word Neglect
to the wind!--
left it for recklessness.
SHE knows where the line is
knows how to cross without getting caught
are you breathing?
don't be so unkind:
I recall you told me forever,
we touch like ghosts do
evening lights on morning dew
give it up before HE gets your goat
(live it up live it up give IT up).
my hands cartwheel
across my chair
flowers in your hair
scuttle into your lair
you dip your finger in
me what you can't afford to.
hide my hands
me to my own devices
you have left me for empty
left me on empty
who will be your next willing husk?
my predeliction for prediction has thrown everyone off.
you are too per-per-perfect.
you are such a smooth talker
snakes in yr mouth
on yr tongue
i am less than a gentleman,
(you didn't look at me but i knew,
but more than yr hypocrisy.
oh, this is the beginning
empty empty me
poor little rich girl
hair in her eyess and
empty empty tragedy
in her hands
life is what you make of it
(if life is what you make of it
then how do you make it?)
i am so decisive without you.
i am so emptyempty without you
do you fal asleep at home and wish i was there?
because i fall asleep alone and wish that you cared.
do you wake up cold?
do you wake up?
my atoms quake and shiver around you,
buzzing for contact that will inevitably
in two, into a million tiny pieces
oh! how I wish you weren't kidding
how i wish i were brave,
maybe i could tell you how the sky matches your eyes
(clear and bright and blue and heartbreaking)
i could grab your hand and kep it close
our atoms could quake and shiver together
i had you. how did I keep you? when did I lose you?
houston, we have a problem.
everything i do is empty.
my name is heartbreak
my name is something close to rocks on your windshield
it's clear the crash wasn't your fault
hey! do you remember when you cracked the glass?
your hand hit and kept going
your hand hit (an open wound)
how does your garden grow?
with lies and false enthusiasm and intonation
my stomach churns when i see you
my eyes burn when i see you
my fists curl when i need you
feels like i gave you my spine mr. unwhole and mrs. unholy
empty empty bottles
empty pretty words
give me more more more
i can smell you everywhere i go
i can taste you when i close my eyes
if you asked, the answer would probably be yes
don't you dare ask
goals to reach before you die
and when you pride yourself on extreme adjustment
the change needed to become anything at all
it's what you make versus what you leave
how do you leave it behind?
when is enough not enough?
there are tiny screams that say youll leave me behind
when all that's left of you is Xs and Os, i will be long gone
and i will ask the world to be quiet with a finger to my lips
i will need time to think about your hand against my forehead
hot like a fever
when one's faults outweigh one's defenses,
where am i supposed to go from here?
this empty space ive discovered and kept for my own
and when you pride yourself on extreme adjustment
the change needed to become anything at all
it's how you leave versus what you made
when did you have the chance?
you simply can't avoid it.
and we ran forever
arm in arm
demanding the world bend around us
shaping it to our specifications
and leaving what we didn't want behind
it was a victory everyone regretted
i was at once whole and discordant again
in his arms
the cold chafing my arms and the love keeping me warm
and this overwhelming pride in your adjustment
in the changes you made to become something else
showed me how you made it and what you left
and that you didn't have a choice
it was gone somewhere around "one day"
when you blink and suddenly the world has changed and you are grown
we'll run arm in arm
just like we did
and the world will whisper,
dance with us
as we jump into our own heads
our convoluted and seperate futures