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beaut(if)ulYou exist in the
space where beautiful is a
question unanswered.
not all humans go to heavencock it
april 23 2008
“bye mom. i love you so much, i swear
i’ll be home soon.”
“please, you’re only eighteen, you have your
whole life ahead of you, please
don’t throw it away.”
“i’m going, mom. i’m going overseas
but i swear i’ll be back before you
miss me. love you!”

aim it.
now
most nights he shakes himself awake
with the vision of bombs and fire and bullets
still imprinted on his eyelids.
he doesn’t know what to call them.
the dreams, i mean.
what do you call bad dreams when
you’ve already lived the nightmare?

his therapist says his problem
is he think
tear the skeleton from his comfortzonei want to build a skyscraper, seventeen stories high
and fill each floor with a story from the people who never said goodbye.

i.
a middle child, born in 1994,
she always wanted to be loved the most
until she learned how to give a blowjob
in an alley behind Miss China’s Takeaway
at knife point.

ii.
she lost her childhood
to an ocean who always thought it was small
and never stopped pushing its borders.

iii.
he’s not sure how he’s supposed to live without her.
staring at the closed coffin, he loses the ability to want to.

iv.
it’s not fair, she thinks,
that the house creaks when she’s trying to sleep,
but when
ily2i wrote a poem for you because
you make me believe in happily ever afters,
romantic suicides and the fact that one day
i might not break everything i touch.

i don’t know what i’m going to do in four years
because i can’t comprehend a life without you.
and i hate you for it.
you’re just so—

you adjust my skirt and give me a pair of jeans
and say, “don’t let society make you .”
you stay up late with me to watch the sun set
only to wake me up early to see it rise.

you guide me out of the way of
already-broken leaves and
piggy-back me straight into puddles and snowdrifts.
you steal pieces from
Untouchedquestion marks rest
on his parted lips in eternal curiosity -
unconditional love's open-mouthed kiss;

flower petal cheeks
and poster child eyes for the hopeful -
I pray he never sees the world for what it is.
Summer wine.Red lips;
you sit beside me and
prompt in jest.

I love you.
one day, i sent a letter to the mooni got sick of our tired old earth
and asked if i could join
the man in the moon
on an afternoon for coffee;

he preferred tea.
lukewarmshe had the kind of voice
that seemed to be stuck
in the hour of four o'clock
in the morning - soft
and tired and luring,
mumbling her way through
subways and tunnel lights
all pale yellow with noise.

there was tea and long baths
and longer absences,
hiccups of breath
the best
she could do.
long springs and
longer falls,
one equinox to the next
and still the bad
was never that bad
and the good
was never that
good,
and she continues to hum
the birds continue to sing
the apples continue to
grow  and
sour and
fall,

and bury themselves
again.
I Only KnowThere are at least
thirty-seven thousand ways
to get from here to there.

here,
where your body fits
next to my body, your breaths
match my breaths; your
escape-
paradise, sanctuary, utopia-
surrounds my escape.

there,
where you and I are not
the same; where your edges
break against my smooth,
your rises coalesce with
my falls, your
 d i s t a n c e s
clatter against my presence.

thirty-seven thousand ways
at least,
but I only know one.

I only know the way the thumping
of your heart leads to the pressing
of our lips-
I only know the here and there that
pales, insignificant
to

the you and me.
A(nother) letter to myself.You have grown.

You are not ten years
old and silent.

You've found the words
and you have made them
your sword and your shield,

your battering ram against
the walls you built when you
were too afraid to live.

And I know that some days
you feel like letting go,
like falling.

That you wonder if it might
feel like flying if you spread your arms
and close your eyes and pretend you
aren't doing this to die.

You have stood on the edges
of rooftops and bridges
    (To follow her, I know,
          but you were not born to go this way.)
and you have climbed back down.

You will make it, my girl,
by the skin of your teet
Birthday celebrations.Twenty-three cigarettes
at midnight in honour of
the years you might have
lived,

but chose not to.
Breaking BurdensThe unspoken rules of society:
when your hands can mimic birds
at 4 am,
tell me your stories
and defy the sky.

It only lasts a little while.
Virgin QuietDear Vivian,
the unblooded angel who
weeps for me in my dreams -

why don't you make a sound?

shuddering in the corner,
conspicuous convulsions bring you closer
to me than anyone's dared  -

why won't you breathe? is it so
hard to take in life that your
paper lungs are tearing?

where do you go? hiding between
the promises of salvation:

you are among the skeletons in
my closet where no one ever
lives; don't you know, oh
don't you know that morality
will make you a ghost?

they've draped you on a hanger;
your skin is an accomplishment,
bleached and rough and
unmarked by wanting hands.
your bones are gnawed, oh, look
at
SenescenseI aged half my life
in one evening:
landed on a fall moon,
full of red and the howl
of wolves.

Harbor womb to a fox
more wild than my birdhands,
my vernal equinox,
his twitter-pated harvest
moon.

feral child, disquiet;
I aged half my life,
wept fifty years;

birthed reincarnation,
hallowed redemption.
001   i am a whirlwind of
     bruised knees
       (purple)

     an aching heart
      (dark blue)

     twisted guts
        (red)

          &
  a regret that could
   crumble mountains.
  (green-green-green)
Browse More Like This

More from ~MisfitableGrae

Breaking News"McDonald's Caves In:

Too Much Weight."
MirrorHonored place on my wall
Who's the fairest of them all?
Not thin enough, don't eat till you're dead
You're not pretty, that's all in your head.

"Cake on make-up to hide your eyes,"
Says the reflection glass made of lies,
"You're not even close to being like her;
Be like this, be better than you were."

The public's ruled by these mirror-made clones
Bitches wearing just skin and bones
Forgotten what isn't a size zero
But these people are still the public's hero.

I'm looking at you but I won't be your doll too,
I may be just human, but I'm stronger than you.
You control my friends and even my life
But you can't control my wrists w
DeathbedPanicked.

"You won't

forget

me, right?"

Featured in Groups

:iconpoetry-book: :iconthe-poetry-cafe: :iconthewritingobsession: :iconteenage-writers: :iconcreative-writers: :iconfreepoetsociety: :iconpoeticalcondition: :iconwritten-emotion:
×

fast-forward through the goodbyes

:iconmisfitablegrae:


this is the beginning of the end
“i know you,” he says.
and he looks defeated, he looks sad, he looks like
he's a boy who may one day realize how much
he cares for you, so you cut him off and say,
“minus all the secrets i don’t tell anyone.”
“well, yeah, minus those.”
“then you don’t know me at all.”

and then you tell him,
i love you. but you don’t use those words
because those are taboo. are jinxed.
are knock on wood three times fast.
instead you press him in a hug and say,
i’m sorry, knowing he won’t understand
that this is the first time you ever cared for something
enough to try and fix it after you hurt it.

you hope he doesn’t ever realize what you’re saying
and his response will always be ‘what for?’ because
if he figures out he loves you nothing changes.
he’s just going to be in love with a corpse, a memory,
a pair of trigger happy hands, a pile of bones,
a million ways to stop a suicide victim.
so you say i’m sorry because you know
he’s smart,
and you know it’s inevitable.

this is the middle of the end.
you wake up in the morning alone.
that’s not unusual, you went to sleep that way,
because you’re always leaving even after
you promise to stay.
what is unusual is the metal gun you slept with in your hand
when you used to sleep with the stuffed animal
your friend made you in fifth grade.

you put the muzzle in your mouth and think
of all the reasons you should and all the reasons
you shouldn’t.

this is the end of the end
you pull the trigger.

509

45 17 10
:iconmisfitablegrae:

fast-forward through the goodbyesby ~MisfitableGrae

DescriptionDetailsShare
Download TXT download, 2.0 KB
"happy birthday to me,
happy birthday to me,
it's weird cause it's my birthday,
and i've never felt more lonely."

have some second-person poetry. i wanted to make it short, so sorry if not a lot of things make sense.

no, but really there has to be some poetic irony in the fact that on the day i was born, i really wish i hadn't been.

dear you,
don't concern yourself with my mental stability, that's not your job anymore.
©2013 ~MisfitableGrae
Category: Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

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January 26
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:iconsammur-amat:
=Sammur-amat May 29, 2013   General Artist
i have birthday-related anxiety myself and yeah, [link] my heart goes out to you and
congratulations on the DLD :tighthug:
Reply
:iconcolorblindsushi:
~ColorBlindSushi May 24, 2013
Lovely piece. Congrats on the DLD.
Reply
:icondailylitdeviations:
=DailyLitDeviations May 23, 2013
Your wonderful literary work has been chosen to be featured by DLD (Daily Literature Deviations) in a news article that can be found here [link]. Be sure to check out the other artists featured and show your support by :+fav:ing the News Article.

Keep writing and keep creating.
Reply
:iconflummoxative:
~Flummoxative Apr 30, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
I'm not suicidal but so many parts of this... you got me.
Reply
:iconvioletense:
~violetense Feb 19, 2013  Student Writer
“minus all the secrets i don’t tell anyone.”
“well, yeah, minus those.”
“then you don’t know me at all.”

No words for this. None at all.

Please talk to me anytime; you don't have to go through this alone.
Reply
:iconhfeather53:
*Hfeather53 Jan 30, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
"he’s just going to be in love with a corpse, a memory,
a pair of trigger happy hands, a pile of bones,
a million ways to stop a suicide victim."

those are horrible but relatable feels. nicely put.
Reply
:iconhetaliatardis:
~hetaliatardis Jan 29, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
This is beautiful. I hope you feel better. :iconsadhugplz:
Reply
:iconchococoatedlemons:
~ChocoCoatedLemons Jan 29, 2013
You're here and that's what matters now. This was beautiful and so are you. <3
Reply
:icontiajones:
~tiajones Jan 27, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
): this is incredibly lovely-
but my heart just plunged at the end.
<3
Reply
:iconrayoflight20:
~rayoflight20 Jan 27, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Omg. I wish I'd read this before leaving you a gushy birthday wish :/ But its still a beautiful poem. I hope you feel better soon. I know this is a terrible, terrible cliche, but I'm still going to say that there's light at the end of every tunnel, and I hope you reach the end of yours soon.
Reply
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