There's a ringing in my right ear.
I hum to block it out.
The hum becomes annoying.
Neither side of the pillow is the cold side.
My lungs are the first casualty from the war in my head.
That jolt you get when you fall in your dreams and you wake up with your heart beating.
That hasn't gone away for awhile now.
It's like I'm just waiting to hit the ground.
Caught in this constant free fall of fear.
I can't seem to shake the shakes.
Found a picture from last night with a cigarette in my mouth.
I don't smoke though.
There's a rainbow somewhere and over that is where I'm looking to go.
I'm sick of sad songs.
I'm sick of happy songs.
I'm sick of silence and the low murmur of my 10 dollar box fan.
I hate everything that's on my walls.
I'd rather just pitch a tent and call it camp **** yourself.  Population me.
Scribble thoughts as they come.  I've been doing it for years.
I thought I would find purpose in it, but I still don't know why I write what I think.
No one else cares and I sure as hell don't.
I wish I wouldn't ask so much from the sky when I don't appreciate it as is.
Everything is wrong.
I could be as broad as the side of the barn or as specific as ice cubes in the Ramen.
Waiting for the day the Sun doesn't come up.

On top of that, there's something wrong with the lights.

Don't you dare
give me that stare
act like you care

You don't have the right to pretend
that in the end
You like me for my hands
As much as you just wanted to **** me.

So don't hold my hand and talk to me like this
don't try to make me believe in the magic that doesn't exist
that when we were together you felt genuine bliss

like in the vast moments when our hands intertwined
you ever wanted to be mine
or that you'd ever let me define
our time
as anything more than a static rhythm and rhyme

as anything more than a business exchange
or a game
i give you my feelings and you don't feel the same

it's not too late you haven't placed your bet
on how many months it'll take for you to get to my bed
get inside my head

all of the time i wasted for you is over
all of the feelings i hid away
all of the breath you took away
as i waited for you to text me hey
it's over

congrats.
you've made me numb
stand in the line of other guys who've given me some
taken me under angel wings and deceived me
but this time I see

I don't trust your magic arms anymore
your fantastical eyes don't take me hostage anymore

and the emptiness i felt after i was filled with you inside me
reminds me

never to trust

someone who tries to hold your hands
when they can't hold your words

you're a mastermind magician
you've helped me stop belieivng in the magic
i know magic behind love
and i don't believe in magic anymore

i packed up the city
into three boxes
and headed for
the suburbs
i'm trading street lamps
for christmas lights
and coffee for green tea,
lust for love and so on

Look at the thirty-three.
Nine years ago
in the junior school hall
and now how many miles
between you, and you
and me.

Pre-pubescent times,
bananas on our faces,
eleven, maybe twelve
with collars all tidy
and jumpers tucked in.
Say cheese.

We grew up too fast.
A few have kids
who'll study
where we once did.
But my friend is at Park
and I walk an Avenue.

This one inked their skin
and this one had drugs.
And you, third row,
well you moved abroad.
I'll bet ten bucks
you don't 'remember when?'

If I saw her, him
what would I say?
A hasty hello
or not one word.
They have far different leaves
on their trees now.

Near a decade later,
the photo back on my shelf.
Here's to you,
what we were
before nowadays
snatched our hands.

Where am I
What am I
Who am I
Nobody knows.

I am the icy finger.
That runs down your spine.
I am that fear.
And I'm giving you mine.
I am the tear that runs down your cheek.
I am the eyes that bleed and that cry.
I prevent you from moving as evil arthritis.
Causing such pain.

I'm making you share.
As frost lain on the ground.
I'm freezing you out.
With a full bloodied clout.
I am a vapour.
I ooze and I drift.
I cover your shape with my form, as I shift.
Fiddling eternally with my bleistift.

I make you shake.
Shiver and quake.
As love to you, I continue to make.
In ecstasy with excitement.
For I am the beautiful toxic witch.
Gets under your skin,
Hell I'll make you itch.
The princess of ebony black.
The princess of white.
The lady of darkness.
In which I delight.
I am the gentle pen.
I speak out loud with ***** might!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

He had his own scent
His own type of aura
It came off like clouds of dust
From within his skin, burnt sienna
He had something shiny there
Some kind of hazy dream
But if I ever asked about it
He'd say it's not what it seems
You see, my daddy was a smoking man
But I didn't know quite yet
The meaning of that phrase
Not to its full extent
I was intrigued with his eyes
And the way he spoke
I would watch forms shape
From thick, grey, and poisonous smoke
He had something earthy there
Wrapped in some tin foil
He would rub it in his hands
And trade cash for his spoils
You see, my daddy was a merchant man
I learned that on a cold night
Sitting alone in his rusty jeep
When the other men wanted to fight
My daddy looked to me
Telling me to look away
Maybe, I should have listened
It was took late anyway
An explosion sounded
It's echo ringing in my ear
My daddy on the ground
Convulsing in fear
Screaming, someone was screaming
I stop to listen
And realize it was me
My feet were moving
And I was there next to him
Trying to stop the blood
That was covering my skin
He had a look on his face
Like he was trying to explain
But every time he tried to speak
He didn't know what to say
He had some kind of waste there
The wind had scattered all around
He was too deep in this world
No way else to fall down
You see, my daddy was a smoking man
Right down to his core
Couldn't see past the nightmares
To get off of the floor
He got lost in his hazy dreams
Somehow the pain would ease
You see, my daddy was a merchant man
But he let himself get burned
He risked everything he had
And got nothing in return
He took chances with gunshot wounds
Had some silly notion he was immune