[x]

MonologueSpinal fluid seems to be seeping between the cracks
Of the dark hardwood floors beneath me
As if all the cartilage from my being
Has been used to paste together an arthropod heart
I’ve white washed my pupils and folded them
Into hazy envelopes and sent them off to strangers

The Bambi syndrome(Dis)regarding logic and sensibility
I like to sit on railway tracks, feeling the vibrations beneath my finger tips
Just beneath the blood vessels and haemoglobin
The whirring of the air being sucked out from my lungs
Chicken is not a game for the faint hearted

She called me reckless, and that scared her
Because I craved the adrenaline to flush out the morphine
I balance on bridges, always teetering
Cheshire cat grins as we run across highways
Darting blurring hues of monochrome grey and black cars
In the dark, only headlights visible
Deer in the headlight

Then we ran to abandoned warehouses
Smashed windows and ate shards of glass
Drowning

Sic transit gloriaI’ve realised that life is like a kaleidoscope
Different fragments interlocking and interchanging and overlapping
But in the end
They’re all just broken disjointed shards
Haphazard pieces of coloured plastic and blurred retinas

pusillanimousI wanted to slice the sky open like an artery
So I could see what a real night sky looks like
Not one seen through filmy glass and insomniac irises
I wanted to see the world in all its clarity
Not fuzzy charcoaled edges blurred with hazy carbon dioxide lashes

Is it so wrong to dip dye myself in decadence?
To breathe in the smoky sweet haze of a drug induced s.l.e.e.p
Lemon lips to stave the hunger
Ican'tevenholdapenciltopaperanymore
Without ripping myself wide open and spewing my guts for all to see
(We don't do this for the thrill, we do it to prove we exist)

I am laid bare on chrysalis pillow cases and moth ball sheets
And I c

UnknownI'd listen to radio signals
But all I'd hear is chlorine bleached static
That leaves a the bitter taste of Advil in my thoughts
Drugged up in an anaesthetic haze of morphine induced comatose
I'd clench my teeth to stop the florescent vowels
From escaping my insomniac lips
I've chewed them shut and pasted book spines on my ribcage
In an attempt to be something organic and interesting
Because the plain Jane exterior I've laced between my iris's
Is becoming a contradiction of what little sanity I possess

Evening childWe’d sit on porch steps
Insecticide burning our lungs
Awkward and gangly attempting to grow into our limbs
You with freckles dusting your nose and I with a small dot on my cheek
You called it a beauty spot and I said god was too lazy to give me freckles

We were 15 and lust driven amnesiacs
Dissolving our flesh with cheap gin in your tree house
Throwing pebbles at the sky hoping to shatter it
We were an epidemic of the underdog prognosis
Playing encores to an audience of cowards

For some reason we’d always rush across rail way tracks
Metal bars quivering and our broken sneakers stumbling
We were branded in mistakes and embellis

Her name was AmyHair the colour of rust and bones that fell apart
We’d eat rocky road ice cream bars
You perched on broken handle bars
And I would press down on the brakes
We were scabs and lacerations
Knobbly knees and smoke filled curls

I remember when you stole your father’s gin
And climbed out of your window
Throwing bed sheets tied like cherry knots
You were the one who taught me how to do that, you know
Brass heart palpitations from running down to the river
After stealing apples
From old wrinkled trees with knotted arthritic branches

Your cheeks were dusted with freckles in the summer
And your eyes changed from green to grey
We made

Hero ComplexI bartered my soul away
For the boy with wolf eyes
He locked me behind his teeth

He carved snake bites into my lips
And tore apart the gilded edges of my lashes
In an endeavor to uncover some semblance of my siren words

He broke apart my ribs in an attempt
To find my landmine heart
Which held no sound

Mors AtraDust motes gathered in the corners of her lips
Bruised and rotting her mottled lungs fell apart
The skin of her wrists were smudged with pretty pink roses
And below her dissolving pupils just above the plains of her cheekbones
Were streaks of yellowed pages and posies
And ten days later she fell asleep under a bed of earth and soil

If you drink enough vodka it tastes like loveHe’d whisper sweet nothings to trees
Hoping the roots would remember his name
I watched him drop pieces of himself like bread crumbs
His lantern limbs quivering

I don’t think he ever really knew how lovely he was
And on a sunny day when the pavement was sweating
Out onto the roadside
Everyone else found out too

I don’t think I’ll ever forget him because he was like a dream catcher
So quiet and magical in the way his eyes turned green in the dark
And blue in the winter
Like he stored the world’s secrets behind his cuckoo spit heart

The turtle girlThey told me to put lavender under my pillow
To help me fall asleep
Yet my eyes are ringed with wakeful nights
(though I'm hardly an insomniac because I can taste dreams on my tongue)
So I wove the lavender into my hair
So that they matched the purple of my bruised lungs

At night the lampposts hang over the city skies
Sighing as fireflies expire
Their lights flickering onandoffonandoff as they die
With a backpack the size of my torso low on my back
Straining against the sharp edges of my collar bone
I find that I am the turtle girl
Wandering as the pavement beneath me yawns

I am swallowed whole
By London city lights and carb

Hocus pocusI want to hollow out my eyes
And hold them in my palms
And see things with a new perspective

Because everything around me seems
To be slipping out of focus
And magic words don’t fix broken wrists

Rag dollI am the type of girl who hides in forts
Bruised knees drawn up book in hand
Surrounded by cascading towers of paper backs
And a sea of empty tea cups with chipped edges
Folded into a chrysalises of sonnets and haphazard haiku's
Patched upon one another

Of boats and boutsWinter leaking into our phosphate spines
Fingers curled and clawing at sun baked whispers behind our lips
Trying to convey what silence tastes like on parched lungs
Misfortune snapping at our humming bird fingertips
The lost do not wish to be found.

In ruins I sat playing crack the sky with wolvesI haven’t changed since the last time we spoke
At least I don’t think so
Because my knuckles are still rusting over
And I can see you still have those lovely diamond lips

Sometimes I glance over at your cloak and dagger collar bones
Remembering how they would hold galaxies in them
While I rambled on about cabbages and kings
And you’d laugh and call me a child
Even when I wore skirts and dresses and heels for you

I’d still run past you and the stars
Chasing the sun in order to burn out my lungs
So I don’t have to breathe you in
And remember the taste of your synapse vowels

I don’t know why I still talk

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Submitted: November 2, 2012
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by ~grew-up-a-screw-up, Nov 2, 2012, 2:14:25 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

sometimes I hate the idea
of talking

I rather eat the autumn
skies crushing cold air between my molars
and hiding shaky hands
between pages of dictionaries
and clickclickclicking sounds of typewriters

you asked me why I wrote poems
on the soles of my shoes
and I told you

it was because I wanted to
imprint myself on the earth
then I can create beauty
even if I am not

Insert creative title here.by ~grew-up-a-screw-up

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

Sometimes, I wish I could just choke on those sharp blue cloudless skies

love 2 2

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~dreamersthoughts Apr 6, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

I'm honestly speechless, the impact this makes absolutely astounding. Thank-you for writing out exactly how I feel. No matter what anyone or the mirror tells you don't listen to them stranger, you're words hold beauty, and your voice is strong.

~grew-up-a-screw-up Apr 6, 2013 Student General Artist

Thank you for the lovely comment, and I'm happy that you found the poem relatable if not a little sad but if I can offer some semblance of solace in my poetry then thank yo.

~DragonKeeper92 Feb 27, 2013

bhfdjvbh,jadnfdjnvkdfnvkfhvidfvdfkjhvildfnv!!!!!!!!!!! wow, i dont even know what i just said, but i fell in love with this poem the moment i say it!!!!!!!!!!

~grew-up-a-screw-up Feb 28, 2013 Student General Artist

Hahaha thanks so much

~SweetsAndCharades Jan 22, 2013

This is wonderfully written

~morning-tonight Jan 22, 2013

It's amazing, I could feel the crisp crunch pf a cool autumn breeze and picture the earth as a world covered in words. And as a note, to love is to be love, to make art is to be an artist, and to create beauty, one is beautiful.

~Shnubs Nov 14, 2012 Student General Artist

I'm speechless

~grew-up-a-screw-up Nov 16, 2012 Student General Artist

Thanks so much, I'm going to assume that's a good kind of speechless? .w.

~Shnubs Nov 16, 2012 Student General Artist

It is! c:

~grew-up-a-screw-up Nov 17, 2012 Student General Artist

Thank you so much! ;u;

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