(via vintagefashiondollsky)
Writer's Block
Click HERE for my original poetry.
Let's write, laugh, and live... Let our lives intertwine on this block through words written in colorful chalk. No time here for brain freezes The only pauses allowed are those found on the surfaces of periods, commas, ellipses, and the short blank spaces of breath between each gorgeous word
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February162012
tendencies toward tears: 189 miles
10 miles to meet me at a party,
to swallow drugs
that made you want to kill yourself
and make you high enough
to stay that way for days.
10 miles and i didn’t think
you even knew my name.
-*-
25 miles just to pick me up,
to let me know you had noticed me
and that my name was easy to…
February142012
Sh*t Bitter Females Say On Valentines Day! (by UncuttMedia)
January302012
(Source: great-freedom, via uglyfaceofbeauty)
12PM
(Source: brotips, via uglyfaceofbeauty)
11AM
“
He puts in me stanzas
Separates me into quartets
and somehow makes it possible for me to feel like a soliloquy as I flow off his tongue…
” Me duh (unfinished beginning of course)
January252012
(Source: liekeblogger, via vintagefashiondollsky)
January242012
“Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.”
Sylvia Plath (via roscoe-
)
(Source: quote-book)
12PM
Poor Phraser: BEFORE BLOGS
truly genius poem and soooo true, thank God all my teenage demons are trapped inside those old diaries…. how humiliating would it be for those to be published on the web. Love being an 80’s baby.
Before blogs
sensitive teens
wrote anguished
poetry
into diaries
.
words of
souls laid bare
diatribes of
unrequited love
odes to loneliness
and missives
dismissive of
teachers and parents and friends
and friends who were no longer friends
.
these sensitive teens
would fantasize
11AM
Another unfinished poem: I see you
I saw you
Hiding behind that pretty mask you call a face
Trembling
Terrified that someone may actually see the real you
Afraid of the imperfections God wrote on the cusps of you cheeks
I saw you
Lamenting over the curves you call a curse
Wishing they could be sucked, cut, and carved out of you
and discarded to the depths of a crimson hazardous waste basket
I saw you standing there
Numb
Attempting to escape through the slits you cut open on your wrists
They’re too small
To small to let the despair out
To minuscule to set you free of your earthly body
How dare you?
(to be continued)
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