You know I love you
I know you love me
And forever we know
That we will beI love everything about you
I can list them one-by-one
I absolutely adore you
I know you’re the oneI love the way you comfort me
No matter what mood you’re in
And I know that I will comfort you
Even when my…
This is a poem for the girl sitting alone on a bus
that took her from home to Chicago
and back.
She let everyone else on before she found her seat.
She was a gentlemen in a world
where ladies can be men
and can be beautiful
at the same time.This is for the sad people
who hate waking up on…
(Source: buttholepoetry)
brilliant/euphoric/grand: I worked on this for most of today and it is sort of unfinished but still.
Today as the blueness
and
coldness of these hard peaks surrounds me, I
can only think thatyou are the only mountain
range that I would like
to trace (from
the hemwhere your hairline meets your
forehead down off the cliffs
of
your nose and
chin
acrossthe plateau your neck makes
—through
…
(november eleventh: tenth avenue)
I looked at you
(all mixed
up) (squared
up against the dirty chain link
fence), laughing. I looked at you:
it was some Tuesday—he came over and—
I’m sorry—
that’s all I know—and your deadened emerald
eyes bored holesinto my cold cheekbones
and the fuck…
Nothing matters here
Not the losing of my sanity
Nor the breaking of calcium enriched bones
Not the slashes or scars of my wrists
Nor the pills that I take to cure myself
Not the days I went without eating
Nor the six years of alienation from my mother
I’m still here
I’m still alive
That’s something to be proud of
(Source: nickdrone)
I prefer the darkness to the likeness of your skin
Love once cherished, now relished because of emptiness
Finger nails scratching exima, flaking away my body
To an unkind wind
A cold that draws the breath from my now vacant lungs
Into smoke that travels between our lips like water
You spit from the fosset after we brushed our teeth
My spirit, body; Deteriorating, lifelessly under the
Fucking sun
(Source: nickdrone)
I loved you last night
I woke upto a landscape: strange
dead and barren
unforgiving, forbidden
(as if
at some point on the thread of
cloudy dreams I wander down sleep
after sleep I
should have died)I woke up numb like
winter but I know (to my
core) I loved you last
night
and the hollows cradling my eyes
(through wake
and sleep hugging them tight)
are O’s
are nuclei
of questions posedand within these deepening ever-
darkening curves
(my skin like
a bruised pit of quicksand), my
eyes open—my
eyes close
—on my constantly grinding bones
You are the writing on
the inside
of my ribs I didn’t know
I hadYou wear
the sun on your head like
a crown—You keep
the thunder-
clouds
in your
lungs like creaturesin a zoo
You are the long woven strings of
adjectives I wrap around my
forearms
to warm mewhen the air
is brisk. You
are all of this
what amazes me is my fingerprints
and the still-thereness of them
(after feeling
everything I’ve ever
felt)
I am amazed that the groovesdo not lose
their shape like wax that melts
pooling around a
flame;that they do not
blur or
smooth after all
the things i have told them
to touch (because my brainis blind and
the world
is its living, breathing
braille)
