cowardly

cowardly ways.stuck in their cowardly haze;they’re blinded.can’t see past their own pointed finger,no time to see the dirt underneath their own nailsthey would deny it even if they could.say that someone else put it there,no way could the tips of their fingers be touching dirt.they’re better than that.and the only thing those fingers will grasp

the little things

her breath smells like cigarettes but her lips taste like spearmint gum. it’s something i haven’t quite figured out yet but i’m convinced the more tastes i get the easier it will be to understand. i’m always looking for a conclusion so i can’t stop kissing her. i don’t think she’ll complain. doesn’t she know gum

safety

i was a silenced gun that just wanted to be heard my silence was not keeping me safe fuck my safety nothing that could kill could ever be safe and with every touch of your waist i got closer to danger but i wouldn’t wish death on anyone and yet your fingers are my body’s

rebounds

I’ve never really understood the game of basketball I’m really not that good at it either I was shooting guard in eighth grade and only scored three points all season after that… I chose to play different sports I wanted to contribute it to my lack of height Or my hateful attitude towards running But

the most comfortable place in the world.

The excitement I feel when I think about crawling back into my bed after class overwhelms me. My hands get sweaty, My heart starts pumping faster, And the corners of my mouth curve upward into a slight smile. I never wanted to leave the cradle of covers and pillows to sit in these uncomfortable chairs.

lumpy

People say over time that it gets easier. That the pain will go away And bad memories will fade. Positive moments placed on picture paper should be able to suffice. I think, over time, people just get better at distracting themselves. Moments of happiness erase feelings of sadness and mourning. When the topic does emerge,

Letters

I’ve sealed many letters that never set sail in the mailbox They were my words unread Feelings shed onto paper unfiltered from hate and overdosed in pride I had nothing to hide from these people but everything to prove I was always taught numbers don’t lie. But people do This world is not a calculator

drama

drama taught by the show mom but perfected by the teenage girl egos burnt to a crisp as crisp as the burnt ends of their straightened hair they are boring. they are challengers; always trying to make things harder than they have to be drama learned through actions perfected with whispers behind the subject’s ears

new to this

i haven’t blogged since i had a livejournal so we’ll see if i actually keep this up. i’ll start with a poem, and probably only ever post poems.   You’re far from a puppeteer But you should know that you’re not supposed to pull at my heartstrings like there’s a puppet dancing on the other