you're better of dead by theweathermansaid, literature
Literature
you're better of dead
"You're just different now."
I'm different now because I've stopped wearing lipstick and bad perfume? Switched my showers to ten o'clock evenings instead of six-thirty mornings. Started reading the newspaper with my father instead of gossip magazines with my mother. Because I don't like the crowdedness of the cafeteria or the openness of the gymnasium. And I never laugh at the stupid jokes you or your friends tell anymore. I'm different now because I've stopped pretending?
"I just don't have the same feelings for you anymore."
Oh, okay. So all that nonsense about how your heart is bursting, and your lungs collapsing from lack of oxygen, wa
to feel like a mermaid, by theweathermansaid, literature
Literature
to feel like a mermaid,
Sometimes when I'm feeling small, I take out a paper air plane and send it soaring out my second story window. It doesn't get far, usually caught in the tangle of dying bushes beside the house, but at least I know it got somewhere. It's funny, that feeling of panic when you realize that your life may be just one big lie after another. A lie you tell yourself in hopes that it will get you through the day.
I went to a concert one evening with my father and I remember just being in awe of how much they've already accomplished. Those musicians, still kids really, were going some place, and in those few hours that I watched them, I had the feelin
You called me beautiful, by theweathermansaid, literature
Literature
You called me beautiful,
and now I think I want to be ugly.
I have a problem with the way my hair parts, like I always have to be a little scattered to function properly. My name doesn't sound right when I say it out loud, it's awkward and unnatural.
I keep track of all the mornings I've woken up before five, and spent two and a half hours turning my brain upside down searching for the best answer to your unanswered question that hangs between us like wet newspaper; heavy and weak.
"Where do you want to be today?"
On odd days I honestly believe I can figure out the equation that adds up to who a person really is just by the snippets of conversation I hear when I'
your heart is not at home, by theweathermansaid, literature
Literature
your heart is not at home,
I caught you spitting blood on asphalt, your knees dented with glass and gravel, a t-shirt no more than a kleenex now. "I was going to skip class anyway." One eye half-closed, a raspy breath not mistaken for broken ribs, and too many shades of victim. You wanted me to believe it was your fight, but I knew you had nothing worth fighting for anymore.
"I tried to have a shower earlier. They turned off the water, the lights, the heat. My house is like a dying patient; all the vital organs are shutting down without notice," you said.
"Is he -?"
"Yeah he is. It's all he does. I'm thinking about running away."
"Well I'll come with you."
"No, yo
you're better of dead by theweathermansaid, literature
Literature
you're better of dead
"You're just different now."
I'm different now because I've stopped wearing lipstick and bad perfume? Switched my showers to ten o'clock evenings instead of six-thirty mornings. Started reading the newspaper with my father instead of gossip magazines with my mother. Because I don't like the crowdedness of the cafeteria or the openness of the gymnasium. And I never laugh at the stupid jokes you or your friends tell anymore. I'm different now because I've stopped pretending?
"I just don't have the same feelings for you anymore."
Oh, okay. So all that nonsense about how your heart is bursting, and your lungs collapsing from lack of oxygen, wa
to feel like a mermaid, by theweathermansaid, literature
Literature
to feel like a mermaid,
Sometimes when I'm feeling small, I take out a paper air plane and send it soaring out my second story window. It doesn't get far, usually caught in the tangle of dying bushes beside the house, but at least I know it got somewhere. It's funny, that feeling of panic when you realize that your life may be just one big lie after another. A lie you tell yourself in hopes that it will get you through the day.
I went to a concert one evening with my father and I remember just being in awe of how much they've already accomplished. Those musicians, still kids really, were going some place, and in those few hours that I watched them, I had the feelin
You called me beautiful, by theweathermansaid, literature
Literature
You called me beautiful,
and now I think I want to be ugly.
I have a problem with the way my hair parts, like I always have to be a little scattered to function properly. My name doesn't sound right when I say it out loud, it's awkward and unnatural.
I keep track of all the mornings I've woken up before five, and spent two and a half hours turning my brain upside down searching for the best answer to your unanswered question that hangs between us like wet newspaper; heavy and weak.
"Where do you want to be today?"
On odd days I honestly believe I can figure out the equation that adds up to who a person really is just by the snippets of conversation I hear when I'
your heart is not at home, by theweathermansaid, literature
Literature
your heart is not at home,
I caught you spitting blood on asphalt, your knees dented with glass and gravel, a t-shirt no more than a kleenex now. "I was going to skip class anyway." One eye half-closed, a raspy breath not mistaken for broken ribs, and too many shades of victim. You wanted me to believe it was your fight, but I knew you had nothing worth fighting for anymore.
"I tried to have a shower earlier. They turned off the water, the lights, the heat. My house is like a dying patient; all the vital organs are shutting down without notice," you said.
"Is he -?"
"Yeah he is. It's all he does. I'm thinking about running away."
"Well I'll come with you."
"No, yo
what not to tie around a broken wrist:
01: a piece of ribbon, stolen from this year's Christmas presents
as it will only make you remember the moments of complete silence
when your uncle asked, "What died in here?" to the burning biscuits
in the oven only to remember and quickly apologize, ashamed. It will
remind you of your birthday when your mother tried to wrap your only
birthday present with shaky fingers and a bottle of painkillers. Hidden
by the nurse until your day came, she stayed awake to ask, "Do you
like it?", even though it was just a handmade scarf and knit sweater.
02: a watch for it will only remind you of how much
love is a disaster victim
and her/his hero. love is
a wonder drug that only
liars aren't addicted to.
love is riding pillion and
never telling him to slow
down. love never hurts
on purpose. love needs
attention, but hates to
cling. love is the way he
won't speak if you only
need his shoulder and
his kleenex. love won't
press for answers. it is
honest, but not always
truthful. love will make
things work. love is care,
not just concern. love
transcends, but only if
you put in the effort. it
is impatient. love leaves
you breathless but only
a person can leave you
heartbroken. love lacks
sense, but never
nine reasons why you should by 369dreamergirl, literature
Literature
nine reasons why you should
nine reasons why you should never love a poet:
one.
we like to hear things like 'you're beautiful' and
'i'd die without you' but deep inside we always know
you don't mean it.
and it just tears us apart slowly, no matter how much
we love those poisonous lies.
two.
and when you ask 'are you okay?', we're going to
answer with 'i'm fine'. and you'll hear that
even if our bones are shattering inside of us and
our hands are trembling from all the hurt that we go through.
three.
because we play our music too-loud-to-bear so that,
when we're all alone,
it chases away the thoughts that come with the silence:
things that haun
industrial wings fail us by kawaii-anime-vamp911, literature
Literature
industrial wings fail us
if you asked me
i would have
to tell you that i
have always been falling
out of love with you, because
i died in a plane
crash, you were
the pilot, and i knew
we were going
{down, down, down,
d
o
w
n.}
maps don't give destinations by hush-lullaby, literature
Literature
maps don't give destinations
I stopped knowing how to respond to your twisted approach with pretty words when they made me listen with two ears, two lungs and a heart. It became habit to lose every sense except how to feel when I was near you. My fingers would form four legged spiders and reach across every expanse of your body. At times I would hold my hands up and you would hold yours. Without making skin converse with skin we still could feel every heartbeat, every breath, every future.
-
My sister called us lovers in a dangerous time like that song we could never remember the name of. You said no, we're nothing like that. You said we're the cracks in the foundation
and wings will make you fly by hush-lullaby, literature
Literature
and wings will make you fly
"Daddy, why are you crying?"
"Because life isn't fair."
"I know, but you have to keep smiling."
"Mia, you're five. How do you know that life isn't fair?"
"Well I know a boy with no hands, and a girl that doesn't have a mom or dad. But they still smile."
"Mia-"
"Daddy, I'm lucky aren't I? Most people don't get a new heart. But I get a brand new one. I'm special, right?"
"Yes, Mia you are incredibly special."
"Is that why you were crying? Because you don't get a new heart?"
"No, I guess I was just thinking about your mom."
"She's with the angels, isn't she Daddy?"
"Yes, she's an angel herself."
"Sometimes I think I can see her. Just
the boy jumped over the moon by hush-lullaby, literature
Literature
the boy jumped over the moon
They told me falling in love would be easy, smooth. But I'm the kid that would insist on running full speed wherever, whenever. My arms and legs were a museum of broken blood vessels, gravel missiles, and skin stained a permanent green. Smooth was never a setting my body could contort itself to.
So I guess I shouldn't have been too surprised when I found it hard to fall in love with you. Your coarse lips that would make mine bleed, and my funny way of walking two steps ahead of you, we were an unlikely match to begin with.
You clashed with my family, my music, the rain. On holidays you would wash laundry and turn on bad reruns ju