I write when I am silenced.
I write when my voice is shoved back into my throat, choking my emotion and seizing my mind.
I write when no one wants to listen. I write when everyone is so caught up in the strings of their own lives that they are tangled within themselves.
I write when I feel that no one can truly understand how my mind works, a million miles a minute, so much to say but no one has the time to listen to my words so a page catches them instead of another soul and that’s okay with me.
Pages don’t interrupt or intervene. Pages don’t tell you that you’re overreacting and your emotion has taken grasp of your whole being, making you feel insane due to merely existing in yourself more than anywhere else, pages won’t leave you feeling like there’s still more to say, but the conversation was cut short by lack of interest, pages never leave you feeling unsatisfied. Pages accept your words, and there’s simply no room for judgement.
He reminds her of earthquakes,
he always comes back,
even after a long time,
she learns to live again,
she learns to forget the past,
and here he is, in front of her,
scaring the hell outta her,
because what if they are meant to be?
what if they have to be together?
what if it’s a sign?
what if they make the biggest mistake
leaving each other?
But she knew,
earthquakes are meant to destroy things,
earthquakes have their reasons of coming back,
they have to damage what’s not yet ruined,
you can’t ask for peace from something
that was meant to be a destroyer.
Follow my instagram for more of my poetry! Thank you everyone for all of your support and my first 500. You all have been highly motivational and I’m so thankful that I have been able to motivate some of you. I hope I can still keep inspiring you and vice versa! I love you guys ✏️💕 keep writing!
i know he feels like a safety net always there to catch you but darling, safety nets do not have huge holes in the middle safety nets cannot be always burning safety nets should not tear apart at the smallest of pokes safety nets do not give you an illusion of safety safety nets cannot be safety blankets they cannot come with a tag saying safety not guaranteed they need to catch you when you fall they need to keep you safe
i remember waking up before the sun, to you, pulling on my hips until there were no spaces left between our skin.
like a ticking time bomb, you matched the light kisses you gave away to the skipping beat of my heart.
lately, the days seem never ending as i drag my feet along with the memory of you.
now when i roll over in that empty bed, i can still taste the stale whiskey on your breath.
it seems as though i’ve felt the weight of missing you hit me at every angle.
and though you’ve never been consistent, i still roll with your punches.
your intentions may not have been to have such a heavy fist,
but i can’t remember the last time i’ve felt so beaten that i became numb.
it hasn’t made any sense till now, but i guess this is what my parents meant when they told me to never fall in love in the dark.
he sits on the couch, my couch
tea in hand, iced, the atmosphere
clings, a mirage running down
she sits in his lap
and this makes him grin,
I’ve never seen that look, delicate
like roasted marshmallows, edges
slipping off plopping to the ground
if not devoured right now
his lap, always flip-up seats, stored
brought for parties, filled with tequila
smiles squeezed from limes, tipsy things
back-throat sloshing, vertigo words
this lap is sober, drinking mint
well-worn tennis shoes, and socks
legs like wooly caterpillars,
when did he start wearing bike shorts?
his laugh tinkles off the glass
and hits my girl in the eye.
-bent with epileptic giggles,
-barely able to hold air,
I’m not jealous, but
I don’t know
where I fit in this moment
any more than I knew back then
You wield your sword- the sharpest tongue I’ve heard; a master at arms you cut your way through people’s hearts. Words have meaning and they hurt more than stone; throw them around and you may break a bone. Sooner or later you’ll learn; sharp tongues can cut your own throat.
Sober kids are the good kids,
Sheltered, kicking back
With their minds
Powered by PlayStation
And Quenched on Pepsi.
While they never engaged
In any kind of fist fight,
mortal kombat moves
Infront of the mirror–
But they will rip apart
Any facebook thread
Made by Becky’s soccer mom
(Followed because she’s actually kind of hot)
Over her mulish support
And patriotism she suddenly acquired
Upon the inauguration of our president.
Those are the kids
Making sex jokes
As they fap to anime chicks
And getting lit,
While the only thing
They have ever used a lighter for
Was to light their own birthday cake–
Oh, they also managed
To burn their thumb.
Sheltered kids, quiet as they are
Can be quite fun too,
Just give them a chance
To be normal too.