thoughts on a friday in aprillook, you are summer,thoughts on a friday in april by MisfitableGrae
with your half-a-watermelon smile and
eyes like fireworks in the sky.
and you know what,
before i met you, i kind of just wanted
to be autumn, to make dying look beautiful,
to go out with a blaze of glory.
but when you kiss me i can feel
spring bubbling up inside of me.
and okay, maybe there are times
when we fight like winter, taking no
captives, leaving no survivors, but—
okay, there’s no easy way to say this:
I want to spend 365 days with you
again and again and again because
even though that scares me stiff,
you make me feel like I’m blooming.
the devil's in the detailsthere’s a beautiful boy sitting on the curbthe devil's in the details by MisfitableGrae
of a street somewhere in that time right before
the sun sets and his head is in his hands
and he’s never looked more beautiful or more alone
and you want to tell him it’ll be fine,
that it’ll be okay, that soon he’ll outrun whatever’s
doggin’ his heels, that it may seem crowded now
but there’ll always be more earth
than people, or else we’d be driving
through ghosts and the whole
point of driving is to run away from them.
but he doesn’t have the right kind of eyes
to believe that. they’re red and bloodshot
like he’s been crying too long
to ever listen to you.
you don’t sit down next to him. he does
not expect you to. he may or may not
know you’re even there. if he did,
he’d make you leave because you don’t
belong with him, this angel of a boy,
you don’t want to put him together
you want to watch him finish falling apart
because broken things
a love poem from a blanket to a gunI want to start with a blanket statement:a love poem from a blanket to a gun by MisfitableGrae
I want to hold you down until you stop shivering
in the summer night.
Let me be your safety.
I know the patterns of your veins, the long tunnel
of your mouth. I know you are a protector
people use as an offender.
You’re cocky and arrogant
and your bark is almost as harsh
as your bite. You have a hair-trigger
temper and a kick so hard I tremble
sometimes when you reach to hold my hand.
I have seen what you do.
I love you anyway.
People have said that I am two-dimensional
and I admit that I am all soft edges—
I may be a people-pleaser, a comforter,
but I will give you stitches if you try to walk over me.
I will not always fold so easily. I will not always bend to fit you.
We both are made of stuff stronger than fiber.
I’m not asking you to love me.
I’m asking you to take a load off at my kitchen table
and read through your magazines shaking your head
to the beat of the radio. I’m asking you to love
your own ugly muzz
on drowning, swimming, and the difference thereintwo girls are swimming in two lanes, separate with a timer overheadon drowning, swimming, and the difference therein by MisfitableGrae
counting up their seconds. it’s a race to first, to the end of the lane,
to the medals and the glory and the place where water turns into land
and the dry hugs that wait there. it’s a race and
there’s a winner in the pool right now and it’s
either the girl with the red swim cap
or the one whose goggles fall off as soon as
she hits the water.
they are both in high school and they both do not know the other’s name.
the girl with the loose goggles is the crowd’s f
|I've decided recently that I need to delete most of the old stuff on here. I'm probably not, but if you want to read poetrythen ignore all old stuff.|
Thank you so much for either if you choose to favorite/comment.
why we pity angelsto him;why we pity angels by intricately-ordinary
you are afraid of phonecalls. you
are afraid of your own voice, and
opening your ribcage to let
your heart come live on your sleeve.
you are afraid of living without caffeine
or alcohol, whatever the day calls for;
you are afraid of being real
without laughing afterwards, becoming
everything you worked so hard to get
away from, acknowledging all
that you still are. know this:
I am afraid of loud noises.
I am afraid of honesty and drowning,
people I don’t know and words
I won’t say. I am afraid
of growing old and living alone and
you not accepting me. I am afraid
of myself. In that, we are the same.
I have the compulsion to grab you
and cup you to me like you are some
half-alive bird, like that sound
as the lazy sun paints you a portrait is
your hummingbird heart and not my own
shallow breaths. in the beginning,
you were my peace of mind. you traced
the contours of my being with a scalpel
and held me up, a shadow puppet,
as the darkest, blackest figures I gav
when people say that teenagers don't make good choices, i guess they're kind of right. But in a way, i guess they're also saying that they didn't make good choices as a teenager and because they don't want to be alone or they don't want to think that they're alone, they'll say all teenagers make bad choices.
look. what i'm trying to say is that i was a little kid and now i'm a teenager and i'll probably grow up to say things like, "teenagers have no idea what they want to do with their lives" or "teenagers make terrible decisions".
i guess in general, i'm saying that i make some bad decisions and bad choices and sometimes i regret them instantly and other times i don't know i'm supposed to regret them until three or four months after the fact.
see, i still don't use a lot of punctuation and capital letters and i still spell "months" with an e and i still like the same boy i did when i was seven and i still hate myself just as much as i did two weeks ago and i've done these things for so long i don't think there's really a cure and i'm used to that, it's okay.
and just i guess, finally, or maybe in short, i am always going to come back. i mean, sure there's going to be breaks, sometimes long breaks, breaks that i can't really comprehend ending, but i will always come back, okay, there are times when i'm going to really want to leave and i'm going to think i'm able to but then i never can and i'm not.
so. i guess you can take this as being about deviantArt or being about life but i think it works for both.
thank you all so much, each and every one of you is a reason i stay.