andcuriouser
Active Member
I don't write long poetry or stories very often. What I do is scribble down my thoughts, and sometimes they are poetic. This is a thread for that. So I'll just post a few older ones, and then maybe update when I get new ones. I'm generally more unstable-sounding than I actually am. Also, I never use capitals in notebooks. No reason.
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i'm sorry, but sometimes i don't believe you actually exist. maybe somewhere imaginary in between the bars of my ribcage, slowly pushing against/stealing my heart. i wish you would crawl from my mouth some night while i'm sleeping, grow to scale and love me as hard as you do when i don't believe you. i want to lay in our bedroom, your head on my stomach, whispering about what it would be like to suddenly become a beetle upon waking; how absurd. i want to have to open my window to smoke a cigarette, and you'll ask me to quit without really meaning it, genuinely worried but content all the same. you'd smile, put it out for me, kiss me, and you taste like starbucks and smarties, and you sound almost like neva dinova when you sing to me. but i'm sorry to let my imagination run, because i thought you only existed in books.
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i hate inhibitions, especially because i have so many.
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she leans forward, presses her tongue to her teeth, considers carefully, touches my wrist, holds me hostage with her intake of breath. a sigh, "sooner or later you'll get it right."
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leaves bloom where your eyes fall, even in fall, when the sky is grey and curls leaves to orange and they clutter up gutters and stormdrains; i don't always mind sweeping them out. autumn weather can be calm, a gust of wind blowing leaves to my face, have to close my eyes, wish on an eyelash. my sneakers scrape the pavement. can you hear me calling? come out and play, come out and play!
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charlotte says: you're a traveler.
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"everyone alive wants answers". colleen, you are so adept at saying what i need to hear.
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Yeah, I know.
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i'm sorry, but sometimes i don't believe you actually exist. maybe somewhere imaginary in between the bars of my ribcage, slowly pushing against/stealing my heart. i wish you would crawl from my mouth some night while i'm sleeping, grow to scale and love me as hard as you do when i don't believe you. i want to lay in our bedroom, your head on my stomach, whispering about what it would be like to suddenly become a beetle upon waking; how absurd. i want to have to open my window to smoke a cigarette, and you'll ask me to quit without really meaning it, genuinely worried but content all the same. you'd smile, put it out for me, kiss me, and you taste like starbucks and smarties, and you sound almost like neva dinova when you sing to me. but i'm sorry to let my imagination run, because i thought you only existed in books.
-----------------------------
i hate inhibitions, especially because i have so many.
-----------------------------
she leans forward, presses her tongue to her teeth, considers carefully, touches my wrist, holds me hostage with her intake of breath. a sigh, "sooner or later you'll get it right."
------------------------------
leaves bloom where your eyes fall, even in fall, when the sky is grey and curls leaves to orange and they clutter up gutters and stormdrains; i don't always mind sweeping them out. autumn weather can be calm, a gust of wind blowing leaves to my face, have to close my eyes, wish on an eyelash. my sneakers scrape the pavement. can you hear me calling? come out and play, come out and play!
-------------------------------
charlotte says: you're a traveler.
-------------------------------
"everyone alive wants answers". colleen, you are so adept at saying what i need to hear.
-------------------------------
Yeah, I know.
