we are the wild/we are the reckless youth
setting fire/ to our insides for fun
disconnect.your mouth is a pack of cigarettesdisconnect. by setttingfire
you will smoke when i'm gone
your eyes are charcoal black.
in the dark
when you're fucking me,
they are pits.
i trip and fall into you again.
my body says yes
my mind says no
but my heart stays silent.
i am the space between galaxies,
far off and disconnected
and my heart is a star gone supernova
my body is lost to the milky way
but my mind is jupiter, stubborn and stoic
you are the novacaine i shouldn't have touched
and i am an addict now.
unplug this, we have gone too far.
our ocean minds reach around to lap at
words we have yet to fully understand;
like the ones you try on your lips
when you think i'm finally sleeping.
we think we want these things,
when its really just old habits.
paper airplanes and trainwrecks.you fold into yourself again.paper airplanes and trainwrecks. by setttingfire
you were a secret i never meant to set flight to
your skin was poetry i wrote myself into.
a door i let myself through,
but dear, its so hard when you leave it wide open
and invite me in.
my stop sign has always read yield,
and you are so good at yielding.
you want love so badly
you see it in the car-wreck corners of me
when we pass at a hundred miles per hour.
the crazy in my head derailed me that night
and our lips met like an accident,
leaving us like two casualties
and we sank
like we knew what was to fall.
(she lived for so long inside my head
that her touch began to feel like home)
but i can't love you,
and you will learn to forget.
letters on leaving.i wrote my first suicide letter in 10th grade.letters on leaving. by setttingfire
they told me it didn't count if you felt like dying
unless you had it down on paper
like a vetoed birth certificate.
i've rewritten it enough times since
to realize i could never leave with a proper goodbye.
goodbye is too heavy a word for paper to hold
some words just know how to fall through paper.
and i way never brave enough for the kind of courage it takes to tell them
why they weren't enough to keep me here.
i learned to wear death
like rope burn my junior year.
my senior year we became friends
and i finally stopped cutting the insides of wrists.
i had learned how to go deep enough to count.
when i finally realized death never arrives on time,
i started smoking
because somedays, a decade short sounds like a blessing.
mother always told me we reap what we sow.
hourglass.you make mistakeshourglass. by setttingfire
like you will be able to forget them.
you live like you won't regret it.
you can only avoid what you've done for so long.
your morals are a boomerang
you threw at summer's start
when it returns,
let it bloody your nose
and recall the way memories linger like sap.
(you will wash and wash, but it will never come out)
turn the hourglass again,
depression is timely.
it will return like clockwork,
like a promise
to punish your sins.
on firstsI would often tell you that youon firsts by diddlyhohum
were the most beautiful woman
I ever saw. When I saw you in red lips,
I found it hadn't changed
As I told you this,
you flashed me a grin,
put a fist to your mouth
and dipped your chin. You said:
"Yeah, I was the first girl
but I wasn't the last.
If I know you
like I know you, despite the time
that's passed- you've said
it since, and you'll say it again."
You were right,
and you still are:
the fragile truth of my whims,
I never quite meant
it the way I did then.
octoberyou spit a girloctober by cristinewakesuphappy
into this world:
a life of cluttered receipts
and missing keys.
and every year on this month she feels
she can organize-fix-overhaul herself.
her head entertains ideas of
blessings outweighing the disillusions
and you better wait
and give her all the time she needs.
it is her birthday.
you owe her this.