[x]

lemon cakethis house isn't made out of
a mess. this house is
made out of:

a sinking bathroom floor
because she sighs and i

lose count. shower curtains
you need to water and rust
that doesn't wash out

of the tiles.

it is made out of:

a telephone made for hanging
up because she doesn't
want to talk to her sister.

and mirrors to remind you
that

you are a beautiful

broken

thing.

it is made out of:

sorry notes and scribbles and
a windy day. it sits next to
the other houses made of

secrets and sorrow and stories
and rooftops and bathroom
tiles.

it is made out of:

kitchen tiles, too. they are
black and white and white and
black.

i was thinking maybe..October 10:
I tried calling her today, but
the phone was left for seven
rings too long. She
doesn't like, she is afraid of

dialing numbers and jewellery and
the sound of bugs flying too
close to her ear.

She probably would have laughed
at the thought of dreaming the
day away. Because she can't stop.

She can't stop to meet me at
the rooftops. To meet me and
hold my hand. To meet me and
watch the sky move sideways.

October 16:
Today I called him, to say, to
say that I wanted to drown,
not in sorrows or swimming pools, but in
the ocean, because it's so peaceful

down there. Only I didn't. I
didn't breathe. Or speak. I
didn't

look at the clouds todaywhen i met you, i stopped writing. i also stopped waking up to a face full of post it notes saying things like its bad luck to see the woman before the driving test, or my house smells like apple cider and bluebottles have eyes, or i've got static in my arms. i stopped feeling sorry and i stopped falling down the stairs. i noticed the stars at night could have a story and you could have taken the ocean and put it in your eyes. i also stopped writing.

when i met you, i stopped trying to be a nice person and just was. when i met you, i discovered post it notes and then i couldn't use them. i realised my house was not just a picture of a house

secrets1.
dear mum,

you secretly want her faults so
you can have something to say
you were like her, you have

something of hers. only
you don't.

2.
dear mum,

i think her faults skipped you
and went straight to me. i
like to collect things i'll

never touch again, collect thoughts
and collect pasts only to
stash them in the cupboard

so i dont open the doors.

3.
dear mum,

its the silences in between
that makes me think of her. and
i think of her everyday

i do i do. i even started
wearing her pocket watch
again because it makes me

feel like im doing something
good.

4.
dear mum,

i know you deserved
the better

half of me

lon

not what you wantedi wanted to tell you about
yesterday. and how i saw
a shooting star and a face
on the moon that reminds
me of my grandfather.

i wanted to tell you how
i fell on the grass at
sunset and it was poetically
beautiful. but you'd
only tell me that i was
beautiful and then let the wind
blow away what my eyes see.

i wish you loved looking
up at the fragments of
rocks scattered across
the sky. or loved to watch the
clouds go past for twelve hours
straight, but you'd get
bored after two.

i wish i had asked you
what your favourite number
is and what colour your
toothbrush was. my number
is 52. and now you can think
of me every ti

finding the bottomYou can't look in your own eyes. You wake up at night and wonder why not, and then come to a decision - you wouldn't be able to bear the sight of all the emptiness inside.

(But that's okay, because no one else can either.)

---

You try to drown out your emotions with music. You put on your headphones and try to forget about everything. It never works, so you give up and sing to someone else's song.

(but the words are all wrong)

---

You buy all the dead roses and place them into a broken vase, so you can feel more at home.

(You're tired of feeling like the only rotting and broken thing.)

---

You're the one whos love letters are folded

closer1.
she kept the christmas tree
up well past march and its a
strange thing,

your voice
broken and sad
and

the words, no one understood.
but the silence.

oh, the

silence.

2.
and i hum in this
empty house and

your call

echoes and
echoes. the phone
keeps ringing and i
say. i say:

sorry.

and you say:

don't. just --

don't.

3.
but here i am and
there. there you are.

your face as delicate
as your tears today. and
i touch you as if

you're a paper boat,
about to float away. and i

tiptoe

around your thoughts,
afraid i'll wake

you up.

4.
my clothes smell like
you. my skin

smells like you. and
there is a dead tiger

5 postcards from nowhere:postcard 1:

somewhere between here and
there i realised: good things don't
happen because of 52. they happen
because we let them.

postcard 2:

and baby i'm afraid of a lot of things.

like the way your fingers read my skin like
braille in the dark. and i may not have any more
secrets left that way.

postcard 3:

but you still like to explore every corner of
my spine.

postcard 4:

i have a drawer full of foxgloves and a
sandpit of forget-me-nots. i

love your stretching tree-branch arms.

postcard 5:

you are magic, you are magic, i say. and i am
lost in the ocean of your eyes.

pieces of glass.i've watched the angels
in your heart burn
their halos and rip out
their wings;

shards of glass lodge
themselves in skin until
there's no hope of ever
pulling them out, until
they're a part of you;

the cold in the air
sink into me, until
sorrow is the only feeling
left in my bones;

people tear themselves apart,
and all that's left is
a pile of suffocating tears
and bloody fingernails
and broken hopes and dreams;

fairytale books erase their endings,
rewrite a tragedy
worthy of
shakespeare;

artificial lights in human minds
flicker and dim out,
and nothing is left
to chase away the shadows
lingering in corners;

i've w

stopsigns.we are in the front of your car
and you tell me all these stupid
things about how i am one of two
people you care about. you drove
all this way to apologize. you think my
hands are beautiful and i am saying
bullshit bullshit bullshit and you are looking
at me like you used to.

-

i picked up the phone
and all i wanted was you
all i want is you.

-

i am caught in pine needles and thumbtacks,
and i am going nowhere.

-

reminders i carry in my hand:dear me,

you do not have a terrible heart. you do not
have sad eyes and love is not a war you need
to win. sometimes i feel like disappearing, but
remember:

we are never really alone.

dear me,

every now and then, you can close your eyes
and still find your way. remember to breathe
because you did not sink a paper boat and you
are not floating underwater. you already know
the answer to the question you are looking for.

dear me,

remember the small things, like the writing in
the borders of pages. see the things that
everyone else misses. listen to your thoughts
and then lose yourself.

dear me,

laugh until it makes you cry. see

wishes on stars.i. sometimes, i wish i could forget you.

sometimes, i wish i could forget the smell of your skin and the shade of your eyes and the sound of your breathing and the sound of your voice, whispering in the dark.

sometimes, i wish the guy in my memories - counting the clouds with me, climbing out my window under the stars, trying to throw rocks past the horizon, holding me, saying iloveyou- was just a faceless black shadow.

because maybe then remembering wouldn't hurt so much.

ii. i watched a t.v. show today.

in it, this beautiful girl won the lead part in some ballet performance. the dance hall was full of mirrors. she was dancing and laugh

somewhere, someday.one.

you always said we'd make it somewhere, someday.

three.

you also said, 'that day never should have happened.'

'that day' was when you led me into the forest, eyes closed, my hand in yours. it was the day you smiled at me like i was something beautiful.

it was when we counted the clouds in each other's eyes, and we prayed for the moment to never end. it was the day the sun couldn't stop shining and it was the day i found hope just to lose it again.

it was the day you said, 'i love you'.

'but that day,' you remind me, 'never should have happened.'

i try not to take this personally.

four.

you always said we'd make it somewhere, ma

capturing memories.if life is like a cake
and the smiles are the pieces,
i'd save the biggest one
for you.

.

whenever you feel like you've
fallen, and you can't get up,
and you don't believe in yourself -
well, i'd offer you my wings,
but they're broken, too,
and you deserve better.

[i'll just offer you my hand,
instead, and i hope it'll be
enough.]

.

sometimes, i wish i could capture memories
and put them in unbreakable glass jars.
that way, i'd never forget anything
about you, and i'd never forget
all the times you've made me smile.

.

you'll never be alone.
i promise.

even if the world abandons you,
i'll always be here. always.

[all y

things worth remembering.we could sing soft lullabies under the stars,
songs about happiness and dreams
and a perfection that's flawed, a perfection
that's reachable.

a perfection that's you.

.

we'd go to the park, maybe,
just to watch the wind kiss the flowers,
and you'd name all of them.

'just because they're lonely',
you'd say. 'just because

they need love too.'

you need love, too.

.

if your heart was a color,
it'd be bright, beautiful, and

crayola would be jealous.

.

you deserve dreams and hope,
a happy ending and a fairytale
worth believing in. you deserve
happy days, smiles. you deserve
a penguin named stuart and chocolate,
a comet and an

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the places we go

by ~vampire-zombie, Nov 24, 2008, 1:18:52 AM
Literature / Poetry / Romantic / General / Free Verse

he wrote to me:

that he sits in the gutter and he
looks up at my window and he is
there and he is not and we're
okay and we are

not.

he wrote to me:

your silence is not enough. and i
think your feet caught the dust as
you walked away. and i think my
mouth was filled with dust
as you walked away. and i couldn't
say wait and i

let you down again and. you just
walked away.

he wrote to me:

learn the meaning of wait. and tell
it to me. sometimes the flies belong
in the kitchen and sometimes i forget to feed
the cats and sometimes i

forget to lock the
front door and close the windows

when it starts to rain.

he wrote to me:

will your eyes ever stop wandering? will
you ever see your elbows, will you ever
see your face in the light i see it? will
your watch start working again and will you
open your damn eyes and start seeing

what's right in front of you? but my
lack of direction is like a broken

steering wheel. my lack of direction is
a map torn to shreds and sorry means

nothing to you. or to anyone, most of
the time.

he wrote to me:

words and letters. they formed sentences
and they linked arms and they spray painted
my walls red and they looked like

goldfish swimming in your eyes. i think
i lost the ribbon and i think i untied my
shoe laces and now im running. because

that's what i do best.

i wrote to him:

if i am nowhere, am i everywhere
at once?

the places we goby ~vampire-zombie

Literature / Poetry / Romantic / General / Free Verse

if you love it, let

it go. or is it, if you let it go, it will
find love with someone else?

sometimes if you want to
find it you just have to stop looking.

love 1 1

~~joy 0 0~~

wow 1 1

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~RebbleDiamonds Sep 22, 2010

this is so strong and i love the structure of the poetry.

~marikob-k Jun 21, 2010 Hobbyist General Artist

*sighs*

I think this made my heart beat to the rhythm of the words, or something.
I really felt this poem, and I thank you for sharing.

*things-i-have-loved Jan 17, 2010 Student General Artist

i really loved this. honesty takes place in such a beautiful form. c:

~TanithLipsky Jul 28, 2009

cool

!xLetItBleed Mar 16, 2009

This made me choke up. You're writing is beautiful

!poppydrop Jan 8, 2009

wow wow and wow again.. <3

~Dinowsaur Dec 31, 2008

Agreed, very well written.
Your writing always seems to sum my thoughts up all in one.
But in a much better way.

~carrotsyoucansee Dec 30, 2008

wow this is very pleasing to read. I really like your writing so far. this style is so cool. I havn't really read anything like it. your stuff really hooks me and pulls me in, i enjoy reading it a lot. keep up the good work.

~tatkins07cj Dec 22, 2008

this is one of those poems that will keep me thinking for hours. Love is a blessing. We all crave it and yet when we are near it we are so unsure what to do with it.

This was well written. Good work!

~vampire-zombie Dec 23, 2008 Professional Photographer

thank you so much, and what you said sums it up so perfectly: "Love is a blessing. We all crave it and yet when we are near it we are so unsure what to do with it." thank you for that.

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the places we go

the places we goby ~vampire-zombie

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