[x]

a.m. rant.Look,
I may be a cliché, but I didn’t love you at first sight. On the contrary, I thought “holy crap, what a pretty boy” and went on with my life. Actually, that’s a lie. The getting on with my life part, that is. I wanted to hate you. Truly, I’ve never tried so hard. But everything about you was so damn intriguing. The old fashioned way you talked, the way you were so shy you couldn’t even look people in the eye, even the way you dressed was different. There was no one else like you, and I think that’s just become a law of life now.

I left because of you, you know. I can’t remember if I’ve

married to the moon.we are the
color of
insanity,
bones
jutting
out in
odd places
and pale
skin
shading
our blood.

we're
running
and
smoking
our
lives
away
as the
moon
lights
up our
lives.

there's
so many
ways to
finish
this off,
but we'll
just keep
on
screaming
our
secrets
and
whispering
our love
to those
that don't
mean a
single
thing.

it's
raining.
it's
raining.
it's
raining.
it's
raining.
it's
raining.
and i'm
lying.

again.

drowning in the stars.does the song you're listening to remind you of anyone? it's hard to answer this question when i'm thinking about you non-stop and every single song out there reminds me of your smile.

i miss you, love. i can still feel your heartbeat pounding against my head. i can still feel your collarbone suffocating every last breath of air out of me. i can still feel your spinal cord underneath my fingertips.

i'll look up at the stars wishing you were here to lay in the drifting rain with me. i'll count each and every one and play connect the dots to make pictures of your shining face. i'll drown in the soft water if it means getting to see you in the

Tally Marks1. I sat, holding on to your hand like you would leave me if I let you go. The summer sun kissed your skin and i watched your clear blue eyes move between the sky and the sea. It was a perfect moment, but it's a moment you try to forget.

2. I've listened to you speak like your life is a waste, like every breath is one too many. I've pleaded that you understand the value of this gift. And you got to watch me stutter, trying, searching to find a good reason to keep you on this earth. I begin to cry and shake when countless reasons enter my head but i can't find the right words.

3. Those sharp white scars in your tan skin are tally marks of se

then again, maybe.maybe i am the reason this bed is emptyemptyempty but for one.

maybe i am the explanation for the way the tires are peeling out or the way you’ve already changed your voicemail to ‘me’ instead of ‘we.’ maybe i am the excuse for the way our love has a white flag and is curled in the corner, calling mercymercymercy.

maybe i am the poison-tongue and killing-hands that you tell me i am, maybe you deserve someone who doesn’t unravel like yarn in the afternoon, click their tongue against their mouth and expect you to help gather the pieces and put them back together in the evening.

maybe i am toomuchtoomuchtoomuch f

--Radio--It's playing our song again,
love mixed with lust and
a taste of cherry-tinted lipstick
stuck to the mirror.

I can't find your voice
in the jangles that startle me anymore;
I think you might have faded
into background noise
and memories I'll never drag back out
of dusty boxes.

eleven is an odd number01.

today i saw you and wanted to cry.
you approached me and asked what was wrong
and i just shook it off and said “nothing.”
you smiled and walked away,
completely unaware that you were what was wrong.

you spend your weekends in different gardens
picking different flowers and not the pretty kind either.

02.

“when i was sixteen my mother always said that she was too young to be a parent. she would joke about how i better not knock up any girls because she's definitely too young to be a grandmother. i always told her that she had nothing to worry about, which i knew was the truth.”

“i know this story.

death is a predatori.

he doesn't know what he's doing.

to her heart.

to her mind.

he flaps his arms like wings
and caws at the top of his voice,
the stairs becoming trampolines
as he tries to keep his feet off the ground.

his eyes are blue
and his nose is sharp.

beak-like.

he sweeps his black hair across his face
and hunches at the waist,
arms spread like he's on the prowl.

she hides,
terrified,
behind a closet door
and prays for help to find her,
but no one hears her pleas
when muted beneath the fluff of winter coats.

and she cries.

ii.

he doesn't know what he's saying.

in her face.

at the floor.

he shifts from left to right
and mutte

sometimes, cupid missesi.

she sips pepsi from a straw because she likes the way it fizzes on her tongue, a thousand unshed words staining the parchment of her palmlines. at noon on cloudless days, she holds idle conversations with the sun, and when it rains, she writes reminiscences across foggy windows in hopes her dreams won't fade once her back is turned. sometimes, she paints with chocolate and cream because when she's sad, she only sees in grainy sepia, but she never lets it bother her. she tells the world she's holding out for happy endings and a kiss to sweep her into heaven's graces. only she knows that she's lyi

you don't know -collab-1.
the pale on your face got washed off in the rain today
and for once, you looked human.
there was colour in your cheeks and a brightness in your eyes
that i've never seen before.
no more was there a frown plastered on that face of yours.
there was something different about you.

2.
in these lucid raindrops your tainted tears are hidden.
you don't know, but i noticed you had wiped them away
leaving trails on your cheekbones with the dirt from underneath your fingernails.
i wondered to myself why you cried,
but i guess its because you never really enjoyed being normal.

3.
in some ways i miss that shy little girl,
t

warmi am made of fairy-tales and sunshine and lightning and
sometimes the sticky residue that stains your fingertips
after eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

i am the sky and the rain and the grass growing green
between your toes in summertime, dewy with the dawn
of a new day and a new moon every month.

i am a smile and a laugh and a look and if you're lucky
i am also eye contact and finger contact and lip contact,
static electricity and magnetic compulsion but

you
cannot
&#

requiem to remember the roses.there are these roses and they grow outside my window in the spring;
in the summer the sun burns their petals and they die.

i curl into a ball on my bed on the hottest summer days and sing to them -
its like my requiem for the roses.
--

you're a gin soaked barroom queen, spilling your thoughts to a stranger. you've abandoned reason and hope and you've forgotten love and dreaming.
all thats left in your alcoholic little mind are tales of better years and ability to hum yourself to sleep - even on the loneliest of nights.

you're close to a tragedy, but you're breathing and you've still got a few smiles left behind that sore face of your

what she makes me feel.she is a girl reminding me that love is a sadist.
she is a survivor telling stories with her scars.
she is a writer drawing me into dappled dawns and apple autumns and makes me want to sit next to her

and tell her to dare to be happy again.

a boy i used to knowlanky with long dark hair; i thought he was the most beautiful thing in the world and even though he denied it, i knew he was just being modest. sometimes i would let him stick his hands up my shirt and touch my ribs. he'd slide his long fingers up and down each one, reminding me of how thin i am. i often forget.

i liked it when he touched me, but that was short lived and it was already too late to tell him to stop. it was like he didn't understand the meaning of the word "no" but i could forgive it because the mistakes he made were so honest.

"what would you do if i died?" he asked.
"i would be sad," was all i said and he looked disappoi

let me go01.

where the streets are bare and the air is stale,
there is a boy.
he lives on a small house on a big hill
with two cats that are all the company he wants.

there are maple trees that scrape against his bedroom window on rainy days.
it rains often. he doesn't like the rain, so he stays inside.

when he was young he would insist
that o's were kisses and x's were hugs,
but he knew that it was the other way around.
he just liked to make all the girls angry.
when he was young, things were different –
things were different because he was different.
things were different because she was still alive.

he grew u

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ten things i didn't know.10.
until today, i didn't know how much the world scared me. i didn't know that as much as i wanted to go out and live, that it's one of the things that makes me worry about who i would become. money, sex, drugs, love - everything i know, everything i seem to have grown up with or without - scares the fuck out of me.

09.
i didn't know how blue my eyes were. a steel grey, i could capture your attention from a few miles if it was my only wish. i sound selfish, but i never knew how pretty i was.

08.
i didn't know what other people thought of me. that i was nice and smart and funny and dramatic.

07.
i didn't know how much f

shooting for the sky.i'm jumping into empty skies
into places where i thought you might be hiding
nostalgia fills my mindless corpse with uncertainties
as i plummet;
i was promised a parachute to keep me from hitting the ground
your eyes light up these skies
and i know i'll find a way back

my trembling heart keeps time with the clouds
an even rythmn for outcast weather
i'll be coughing the truths and dares out from between my heroine lips
as i trip;
i was promised my shoeslaces would be tied
your hands wrap around me
and i know you're the one thing that's keeping me down

my words seem to come out in split stutters
and i'm unsure of where i'm stand

a haiku for the broken ones.they call it a crush
because they always seem to
hurt the very most.

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[x]

during the storm.

by ~xxintention, Jul 25, 2009, 9:21:59 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

you're the recent lesson that i've learned and the tides that roll in over my painted toes
you're the song that has no ending that i wish to hear you play over and over again just so i know what the last note sounds like
but it's still unwritten.

you're the one thing i long to forget and the only thing i can remember
you are the breeze and i am the rain that billows inside.
you are my only broken dream.

the lightning cast shadows in your windowless eyes
and i can finally see where the light ends.
you bring me back to the words i've cried and to the place where i first told you i loved you.

i can feel your heart beat fasterfasterfaster and it makes me worry about all the things you've said to make me look past everything.
you are the thunder and i am the lightening.
i just hope you don't regret the storm.

during the storm.by ~xxintention

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

©2009-2013 ~xxintention

there is a ginormous storm going on outside right now and i'm about to piss myself.

this is inpired by ~estallidos's "being in love." and the things i think about each day.
go look. now. (at estallidos, i mean.)

~estallidos Sep 3, 2009 Professional Writer

i LOVE THIS.

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~xxintention Sep 3, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

ohmygosh, thank you ever so much.

Reply

~Perither Jul 26, 2009 Hobbyist General Artist

ah maan, that's beautiful c:

Reply

~xxintention Jul 26, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

thank you very much.

i myself hope that my other writing can master this piece. it's one of my favourites.

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