First TimeNo matter how much I tried, I could not loosen the valves of my throat enough to allow myself air. And minutes before this crucial moment, I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't see. I feared I would swerve and crash in the last mile before reaching our destination. The excitement over the last 20 or so days had finally boiled down to these precious few minutes before It happened; before I met him.
The summer before this cold December night, I had moved to the small town of Creswell with my father. A town of less than 5,000 people, it was a drastic change from Salem where my mother lived before attempting to move me to Bend, a city three hours away from anywhere I was familiar with. It was different.
Being in this new place scared me, as being in new places always did(I moved a lot as a child, and I never had any say in it). I holed myself up in my room the whole first Summer, scared of everything in this new place. I wrote, read, drew(horribly), and lived a pathetic life then. I
Compare, ContrastI know little of you, but I know enough.
I know of your wandering, your flighting manner.
Your distancing, and aimless chatter.
But most of all your mouth.
And the spills others clean up.
Lies, lies, lies cascading down the line.
Unavoidable, I realize the malice in the syllables.
My face may not be smooth
My body may not be sculpted
My eyes may not shine with Tiffani light
My hands may not excite the nerves of man
But my words are purer
than anything your life can hope
I'm stronger than your false bonds,
your frame, empty, devoid of heart and soul
With only a word, those glass eyes will shatter in light
of the truth.
My eyes could break your words.
My words could shatter your reality
it was built upon.
:Untitled 2:Once, when the sun was my only light, my life was dark as my soulless eyes.
Now, I could be drowning in ink, and I will bathe in beautiful bright and glow.
With you by my side.
If Only For NowI lay still, covered in the sheet of your warmth. Our breaths are steady, our skin warm. Eyes soft, my fingers trail your cheek. Quiet, you shift into my heart.
Eyelids shimmering, you sleep.
Your hair tangles in my fingers as I feel. My lips graze your forehead, cheeks, lips. Your head rests in against my neck. Cliched, my arms envelope your shoulders.
Lips trembling, I weep.
I see the sun shifting through the curtains. Cursing it's rise, my hands shake against you. I know tomorrow, you will be gone. My arms will be empty.
Hearts fluttering, we sleep.
To FlyAnd when they forget me, especially if they are the one who isn't supposed to, I will cry like I always do and blame my selfishness. These hands have built up haphazard friendships to last a short while and have torn down the unbreakable bonds between hearts that are meant to live past time.
I can feel these emotions melting in my grasp to something untouchable so when I throw them to the ground, they can wither and die in the wet grass to be found by someone more caring and less sensitive.
I know I will break with another heart and the little pieces will be too small to put together and too sharp to touch, so it's best to leave me be with the loneliness I've had to bear. He's my constant companion and we talk of the silliest things that make me laugh until I cry when we are alone.
Those drops managed to squeeze past my insecurities and fall to places best left to become dusty and abandoned instead of clean and sweet. I see my feet pressing into the damp earth as though longing to be s
I Miss YouTears shed for the girl with the once-ginger hair,
now shining bright in blonde.
So many miles away,
I feel lost and sad and lonely.
I feel the warm ray of joy
knowing she has found love.
But I miss her now.
I really miss her.
I cry for the boy with hazel eyes.
All alone and afraid,
I want to take the pain
and blow it all away.
I want so much to help him
but I can't do anything
in this distance.
Someone help him.
Self-EsteenI see the ones you kissed.
I see the one you loved.
I see the girl that bit you.
I see her who touched you.
I see their porcelain skin,
their elegant lips,
cheeks touched with blush,
eyes gleaming with afterglows.
Bodies slim and pretty,
hands graceful and long,
studs bold and black,
faces bright and beautiful.
It makes me curious
as to why you chose me.
The girl with scarred skin,
lips cracked and dry,
cheeks pale with dust,
eyes dull from the sun.
Body small and used,
hands worn from labor,
barren of any decoration,
face scared and shy.
Why pick me
when beauty begs for you?
AndrodermaphobiaThis foreign skin,
keep it away.
It's not like mine,
If it were brown,
I wouldn't care.
But as it is,
keep it away.
I can't touch it,
It hurts when I do.
I don't want to hurt.
Was she right?
I think she was.
Keep it away.
I don't want to see it,