michelle writes poetry

You should only ask anybody for anything twice.
The first time you’re making what you want known.
The second time you’re reminding them.
If there has to be a third time, this person either can’t fulfill or has no interest in your needs.
i cannot
thank you
enough
for your words
which have taken the shape of hands
and eased through the spaces in my rib cage
to take what was left of my heart
and squeeze it 
tighter than anyone ever has before
just to make me feel 
something
again
and for
piecing it 
back together
again
—  for the poets i have read this year, who have inspired me in more ways than one ♡ @rupikaurpoems ♡ @officialiwrotethisforyou ♡ @ladybookmad ♡ @michellekpoems
(cc, 2017)
17 (Kurotsuki)

I was 17

When you stumbled into my life,

A conundrum of light and dark, shadows and highlights and angles,

So many edges, within and without,

Sharp mind, sharp eyes, an even sharper tongue,

Cutting a boundary around you, as if to say

‘You cannot affect me’

(Please don’t try, don’t try, don’t try),

Guarding doubts and fears-

What fears, you would scoff, but then

You were never quite as good at blocking as you should have been


(And I felt then, somewhere in my soul, a pull, a tug, a desperate cry,

Asking me to hold on tight to you)


I was 17

When you stumbled past that first night,

A lone figure of cool and calm,

In an inky black sea,

Where your namesake soared, and I thought

That Beethoven himself couldn’t have composed a piece

Worthy of you, and the paleness of your skin,

The glint of your eyes, the tilt of your smirk,

Not like the golden glow of sunshine, warm to touch,

Tangible and lingering, a pleasant aftertaste,

Rather, a cool breeze, a fleeting beam of light,

Before you disappeared again, shrouded in shields and mystery


(And I found myself craving more, ever more, only more,

Of what brief attention I had from you)


I am 17,

And all that matters,

Is your hand in mine, and mine in yours,

And the careful smile, so guarded still,

That you offer me, as I try, I try, I try,

To affect you, to let you see that I am here, and here to stay

And the light enclosed in my arms tells me it is worth everything I have to give.

She needed a special kind of someone
A specific kind of love…

She was different in every way imaginable
Her qualities polar opposites from the rest
Money , cars and a bunch of followers wouldn’t impress
She had to be given a certain level of affection
Because if it was too much she’d run away
But if it was too little it was certain she would stray

She was a complicated individual
The type that drives you insane
Yet worth every single headache
Worth every single strain
As long as you’re willing to take the pleasure with the pain.

People like me are meant to be alone,
Because half the time I won’t even notice your name no longer lights up my phone.

I’m a walking contradiction, 
a cynic with a heart of gold.
 I’ll show you what love should really look like,
But make sure to leave before any of it can unfold.