I’ve written A thousand Beautiful words Played inside Wordy poems Teasing Hundreds Of lines Of prose From my soul Crying out A thousand Verses worth Of joyful tears Only to be Left erasing Every letter Ever written Because No matter How I line Them up Or how each Character Is arranged No matter The rhythm…
They lie static without Tethered to wanting Refraining from light The length grows wide And steps grow dark As they run into eyes That can’t see anymore As they slump under And fall into holes That were never dug Just born from life Having been betrayed Where revenge lurks And storms grow Into electrical impulses
One day they just left A few words were thrown Landing across faces Crashing through windows Plummeting to the floor And scattering like beads Stepped on and kicked Before settling silent To be swept out the door And they followed Not bothering to close The door behind them
I’m a big fan of honesty. I think if we hurt we should speak. We shouldn’t suffer in silence. But I have learned, over and over again, not every feeling or emotion needs to see the light of day in order for us to heal. In fact, voicing certain feelings can be harmful to other…
Crashes about on rocks Sharp, cutting, slicing The wind keeps following Pushing me to move But I don’t want to, can’t Legs feel like headstones As sand etches words Into my broken skin My lips hide from hope As my heart leaps And falls back again A painfully dark cycle I stand as a…
Anarchy Steps heavy with Steel toed boots Torches replace Keystrokes Wooden stakes Carved into words Skewering insides Turning logic Into a constant Trickling streams Of overdosed panic Invisible blood Flows thick Drawing poison From weak souls Until the puss Runs sticky And thoughts sit Restless In puddles Of old and dried Scabby wounds Until remorse Draws clarity…
Liquid prisms Caught the light Falling desperately Sounding like Shattering glass Shards of hope Splintering on Checkered floors Black and white Copyrights Stepping on Red carpets Unfolding Flawed Unraveling Lazily across Pressure points Where mean girls Wait to draw blood And where dreams Drown in the prisms Of so many tears
Certain names Just the spelling of them Or the places you see them Or the context which they’re placed Make you want to slit your wrists Certain scenes Remind you that you are garbage A piece of trash, disposable, used A pile of shit to be carefully avoided Or even worse Turn you into the…
Sometimes, as I lay under a clear night sky, I will imagine I’m a star letting the quiet absorb the sound of my flames. I begin to feel the loneliness of it. The sheer desperation to connect burns so bright inside me that I am like a flashlight searching across the universe for someone to…
HASTYWORDS 