I did love you
Say what you will about me but I always loved you. You can call me whatever you like, but don’t say, I didn’t love you. I loved you, when there was nothing lovable about you I gave you my heart without question, I had my problems — yeah, we all do… But you can’t say I never loved you.
"if I could be with you one hour tonight"
brightlightsloudnoises: i’d try to clean the place up a bit but i’d probably lose interest and get drunk and then you’d show up wearing whatever you’ve put on very well and I’d impress you with champagne (even though I hate it) and you’d squeal as I shot the cork across the room just like in the movies and then we’d hit the bed to tie knots that time can’t undo
everyone falls in love with the bartender
brightlightsloudnoises: you had the audacity to walk in with a hooded sweatshirt, with your skinny ass that can barely hold up your jeans, with your attitude that not many girls can pull off and your smile that rotates between chapstick and lipstick when you set your purse down, the old guy next to me asked if you were going bowling, you said, “no, does it look like it?” and he said,...
profoundfuckery: We are a ballet of confusion We flit and twirl in circles Never colliding Always just passing each other Close enough to feel the other’s breath Just to spin away again We walk parallel lines Longing to cross paths Knowing there is no way We cover ourselves In gauze and glitter and silk To hide our pained hearts And bleeding souls We are fools We choreographed this dance Wrote...
iamthehuntress: i like my coffee the way i like my men— with just a spot of whiskey to get me a little tipsy and with just enough sugar to give me a candy-shop grin.
lessons-in-morbidity: There are no metaphors to wrap the emptiness that fills this room. You’ll find no consonance in silence. I exist, only in fragments of wind caught between the shade.
On Being Young
docmarek: I was seventeen when I got my first tattoo - visible. I don’t expect to make it to eighty, but if I have grandchildren, I probably won’t mind. I think I was fifteen when I started smoking cigarettes & the first time I got trashed I was thirteen. I can barely remember a time when my country wasn’t at war, and for my whole working life I’ve partaken in the ...
thecrowsingstoo: He wore her, wrapped around his waist, Her willow legs hitched over His ivory bones, And she sang for him in her piano voice, Lilting down the scales As though dancing through the flow of the notes. He stretched his hands down her torso, Playing her xylophone rib cage Until she spun off into a melody of her own, Catching notes set adrift By his previous ballad And...
sideofthetruth: Your hands were thicker yesterday before jasmine tea slipped through blinds into the regalia of my mind, cracking my skull It was a dream then of a paper bag thrown into night, shirts in the bonfire when you were across the length of a hair and I watched you find my scars and linen sheets pulled up to the small of your precious back. you dismantled yourself and...
eternallycoilingserpent: I feel the infection growing stronger The chemicals pour through my veins I am no longer so equally balanced since you have corroded my frame I need a injection, a booster shot to vanquish this gruesome pain I have watched my skin deteriorate in the eternally pouring acid rain If I could just start all over I would turn back all time and erase all of the days that I had...
lunghixviii: You are a magpie, collector of shiny trinkets and once made promises - now broken. You are fortune in the eye’s of one whose means seem beyond your beauty. You are misfortune upon a lost soul, your cackle rattling within his skull. You are the egotist, sitting high upon the nested throne, content within the conflicting stares of admiration and fear, as if they were one in the...
dreamsandashes: summer nears its sleep and the time for fire passes as what was crackling and brilliant, painting the sky orange turns into a gentle smoke-born veil and all god’s broken toys clasp hands, reflect with the aging oak leaves and after all this time, exhale
penandwind: I thought I spied a raven below a tree, It was only a glimpse of hair so ebony, Flowing and flickering like candle’s flame in the breeze, And the illusion of a bird was right to mind, For song and sound flowed through air, Song of sweetness, song of sorrow, Song of yesterday and tomorrow, Humble, and set below sprouting tree, With song left and magnet to eye, And let the soul...
dimasmoonbeams: every note i’ve ever made every line i’ve ever known closes bound in pages these thoughts were mine alone i would give them one by one to you you who reading might receive each fragmented little snippet lined with pencil underneath hoping you find along the margins scribbled lightly in between an off-kilter arrow pointing to every tiny truth believed
Wrong Side of Goodbye
moaningatmidnight: Tears slide down her face as we stand on the station waiting for the Greyhound bus. We go through the motions, the “it’s not you, it’s me” and the “we’ll still stay in touch”, but it’s lies. The bus arrives on time, she takes her stuff and walks inside, from the window she mouths “I still love you”. And I just stand there holding back my tears, I just stand there on the wrong...
stmccarthy: it can be seen in the way a woman seductively smokes a cigarette in the way she leans toward you smiling, touching your arm in the accentuated calf muscle of her high-heeled struts in the hell-fired eye of her scorn and just a little in crayoned butterfly eyes.
myinkstainedheart: But did you not know my lips are bruised from the prayers I’ve said each night and my tongue still bleeds to this hour the names of saints, of holy men and martyrs that I have barely a droplet left in my veins, not enough of a soul to recite the next litany with faith it’ll finally fall on your ears.
a little mean and too sentimental
brightlightsloudnoises: maybe i’ve been less than kind and short with my words, selfish with my thoughts maybe i have been cruel to a small fire and i have drowned glory with my heel. i’ve still got some of your dresses in my closet, they sway with the regular bursts of air from the ac vent and they should still hold you
working off notes
brightlightsloudnoises: I’m not a fan of notes, mine or yours, I believe that you should write about what makes an imprint on your brain and if you forget it, it’s not worth remembering or writing down I am however in a foreign city and all the culture and stuck up women around me made me feel guilty about not keeping some little pad, a little thing to scratch on with half a pencil so I did and...
Dreaming of Fire
murloh: No matter how many times I cast my gaze from the glowing fire It always drifts back. Flames licking and dancing Calling to me. Wishing me to join them. I shake myself, look away. See the darkness of the trees about. And yet, even they are lit by the glorious fire And its delicious glow And it beckons me close And I reach out my hand to join it Meeting its pain like an age old...
a few words on ice cream trucks
brightlightsloudnoises: i can see how the tune of an ice cream truck might make an adult nostalgic for their childhood, how it might bring about a lost feeling of security and well-being but i was raised in the country, the deep country there were no ice cream trucks and the hourly blaring of the melody outside this window is burning a hole in my subconscious, for a person with no emotional...
writingforyourlove: Self doubt scrawled in red across the black and white. The unknowns and the known are banging at the door. If only my body wouldn’t fall limb. Instead inside my thoughts dance. A brilliant show thrashing in my skull. My brain is begging for the world to disapate. Allow me to lay lifeless like a doll. For life to stop dunking me into the roaring sea. My eyes need rest....
dreamsandashes: In my garden, all the hearts I tend to are bleeding out. Oh, but this is a long and bloody summer we are living now, isn’t it, my dear?
We all die young.
whoislikedog: Watch a child dream, they do it while awake. Sketching images of monsters and made up things, wanting to be superheroes and galaxy travellers. Listen to a child rant with their grand ideas, from a place of infinity of abundance. They were there more recently. But we tell them better. Teach them to be lawyers, accountants, politicians and stylists. Yes, life is short. Our hearts die...
wordswecaptured: The sound of rain is never enough to keep the thoughts of you away. We fall together and drift apart faster than the sky’s tears on the endless sidewalk and from the view of my wishing window, I wonder when the distance will cease to seem so close.
girlbrokendown: I fell victim to your lip’s scion the ruby trails in drag marks pulling me under your spell while you cut pieces of me leaving me a bloody mess on the cool hard steel below mouth red from feasting on sanguine slices of my heart
ethielswords: i’ve gone through all the holes of an English horn. i am now a broken note, exiled from its heart. i attempted to thrust myself back in but my efforts were futile. i am no longer part of his ballad & i will never be …. ever again.
sodestabilized: Like rolling thunder Half dollars Growl down blacktop roads. Carried by bearded old hands Their heads lost in crowded jungles Damp as morning grass. Shifting down with the sun The moon lifts off his hat And lays it on the stars. His hand is stained like a painters Only with oil Not pastels But the coin smells like a new day From one hand to another Take this And...
suicideandcheese: I gave up on away. heard Atmosphere. one band can take me to stay and tell me it’s alright to go at day. people like you find it easy. abandon me too soon. walk away in silence. walk calm in violence. see the danger. see the strain. don’t walk away. ill is the illusion. ill. ill.
I want you to dance in the fountain with me To leave the glares behind and be free Let’s get wet with the Truth, soaked to our bones And splash joy over the dusty cobblestones Let’s be forever’s children remembered And forget the books and bags and Septembers We can make our world forever June Let’s play shadow tag beneath the moon Take this vow by our heart’s own pen That we shall never sleep...
dreamsandashes: My fellow human being, my friend, passing or eternal, my family, found or blooded kin, my love, I ask you, whatever I was, am, and ever will be in your life, whether I soar high or come crashing down into the earth, please, do not regret me.
tiredfoxes: confined. quietly i watch dead skin collect into the sticky-damp bottom of a coke bottle and float there soft as dandelion seeds. i realize i’ve got my mother’s weak arms and ugly toes, her rough tongue built for sugar and dense syrup that crystallizes and chips away at my tea-teeth. could i not easily sink into the earth and sleep long enough to rid my eyes of their dark...
flawsstitchedwithgoodintentions: i know no better lullaby than the lull of your lungs against my chest as my heart begins to match the rhythm, bringing me to my truest state of peace.
sooo, I just posted the work that got submitted to me, sorry it took so long. Tumblr decided to be dumb and not tell me I had any new submissions. Keep submitting! You are all lovely!
Lost Thoughts. (refined)
To the right, the dim, dirty light flickers. On, off, on, off. It’s the sole thing keeping this place from plunging into darkness. The cold wind greets the air, blowing the leaves every which way. Blown from their families, from everything they know, with nothing to show for their existence, nothing to show for their short time in this undeniably obscene world. It’s the only natural...
Consumed with out the shadow of a doubt Tormented by the silence of the guilt Caught in the web of someone whose words were spoon fed. Years foolishly spent listening on baited breathe to lies that flowed to easy to be driven by contempt A true artist of the craft of pretending to be what you are But not truly knowing what that is. Stories told, hope sold - trust bought and spent ...
I Thought You Were Real
Like a fool I naively thought you were real It was a something between us I thought I could feel I could touch you, hear you, see you were near But beneath the surface was a growing fear That “real” was something someone could steal Leaving a scar that could never be healed Real was also something I thought that I was Obviously I’d have to be because If there was a you, then there must be a me...
myinkstainedheart: Curse his eyes that concealed his lies and his lips that spoke of many untruths and if there is a thing as penance for sin then let him bathe for a lifetime in the tears I shed from within. Cruel fate awaits those who has lived and lead a life drenched with malice, that if I be ask, what my vengeful heart desires, I’d have the bastard rot in mud and the most...
brightlightsloudnoises: i don’t have time for those who have time for casual conversation i want to sit silently with the wild, the nymphomaniacs, the drunks, the lonely and distracted; those who don’t have time to speak because the passion is eating them alive
Falling With Eyes
writingforyourlove: I fell for you. I guess it thought you’d fall too. Seeing its been two years, I thought you’d eventually feel like I’m more than just a booty call. But you didn’t and I shouldn’t be so shocked. I fell head over feet. You fell from your eyes, Only focused on each ass cheek. But you know what you don’t see me for the girl inside. You don’t see the tears I cry, The...
davenbypoetry: The truth has deserted My mouth of rotting words My voice is broken Due to the recent infidelity of my tongue The language of life has left me. I have nothing to defend my decaying pen. You keep me in captivity I am silenced by your mind But you tell me to pray anyway In case the words come again. You watch from a distance as darkness becomes my friend Like a...
Love Never Dies- 'Til I hear you Sing
Ten long years Living a mere facade of life Ten long years Wasting my time on smoke and noise In my mind I hear melodies pure and unearthly But I find I can’t give them a voice without you My Christine, my Christine Lost and gone, lost and gone The day starts The day ends Time crawls by Night steals in pacing the floor The moments creep Yet I can’t bear to sleep ‘Til I hear you...
myinkstainedheart: And I may soak my skin under the sun lather its golden rays until I am blistered from burns. I may play hide and seek beneath embers and baste myself with the gray, smoldering cinders of a fire but I will never know warmth as hearty and fervidly heated as your kiss; flame and stellar Phoebus’ scorches will fall tepid. They will quaver, drop on their bruised egos, puny...
writingforyourlove: One, two, three, four. Hallelujah at the door. Falling slowly, Feed this company. Touch the hand, Reaching out for me. Feel the fabric of this black dress, Floating over me. Run your fingers, Touch this perfect fantasy. Come with me. Sing the hallelujah, You and I with white eyes. Painting into fantasy. Come, come with me. Glide your fingers over mine. Feel...
pianissimissimo: Young is the longing for whatever feels too distant. Young, the secretly planned chats on the stairway, a hint of a smile, the unfiltered undenied longing - the essence of youth. Young also the crying that is necessary same stairway, alone, still that burning for a truth that you constructed. There’s beauty even in stripping your innocence of its first coat.
jhayjhaythejetplane: I want you to dine in hell tonight. Your etiquette learned from the lair of the beast, utensils forged from its claws, hunger derived from his fury. Take those talons and tear open my chest, rip my still-beating heart out. It once beat for you, now it’s beat and bruised, yearning to be eaten by you. The mark of the beast has been embedded into your soul, so no more...
Write About Me
unexpectedbalance: You know for once I was thinking about How beautiful it might Be to be the words Dripping out of some Other pen blotting The pages of another Quiet soul stifling their Screams for the good Of what they wish Humanity was How the creeping Crawling creatures Festering in the not so Graciously empty cavities Of my chest making Their way down my Crooked spine and into The...
half-a-lamb: Somewhere between the exposed ribs but underneath the luminous skin is a feeling, a force, a drive Tugging the right from the left and the up to the down Decapitating each limb with every inch, every shift Starting with an after thought, a pesterous pest, an infatuating itch that plays behind the scenes Until a thought abstained becomes a thought unavoidable That digs deep within,...
A Summon (Rappel)
kholinar: A portrait of faces, sentimental lace, traits and latent forays unfortunate. She swayed like a continent. He brayed with fierce confidence. They fell as they tasted the mist in heaven’s hold. ‘Twined fingers braced and prayed for impact.