the rain
splattered
on the front
windows
making patterns
on a
gloomy
day.
the windshield-wipers
demolished
an image of
beauty
held for
only
a second
that would
never
be the same.
its quite like still birth
i raised my beer bottle
towards the sky, watching
the sunlight obscure through
the amber bottle. slowly
it tilted and i listened
to the last few drops
sizzle on the pavement
between my feet
the crowd flew by as
my mute voice sang
out "support underage
alcoholics"
and no one turned
around. Blue walked up
and ruffled my hair as he sat
beside me. "hey help
me get this girl drunk
so i can have sex with her"
instantly a man gave him twenty
dollars and a blessing.
Blue walked of leaving me
with my scars glistening in the rare
San Francisco sunlight. a boy
with similar patterns
called me beautiful, gave
me a hug and walked a
i want to race past cities and violate my probation
feel the quick rush of cars flying by as i sit and wave
signs. maybe someone will laugh at my "i left my weed
in San Francisco" scrawled on moldy
cardboard as i throw my bic in frustration. maybe someone
will speed up as my fifth peaks from beneath my black
jacket and maybe someone will stop, see im fifteen
and say never mind.
but im sitting wedged between an old man and cigarette
smoke, trying to keep my eyes open. the fat guy in the drivers
seat tells me hes not a killer. to go to sleep
and i do.
i wake up wedged behind a trash can to a woman named George
screaming at my swol
Johnnie came to me from his home beneath the sink. I have nothing to give him but hotel shampoo, he tells me not to worry, takes his products and goes home to dish detergent.
Months went by and I waited for his preachings to come true, my hair is now greasy, my bagel is stale, my brother is in denial, my dad is Virginia tech in the planning stages.
And my mom lies.
Johnnie finally came back wide eyed and bushy haired. He had seen and applauded my neck snapping and my arms bleeding. He took my good wrist and sliced me open. But I wouldnt bleed for him. Johnnie has always been a friend and gave me a bandaid.
Now I hallucinate
What Ana Told Me Last Summer. by AJezzy, literature
Literature
What Ana Told Me Last Summer.
She drew bones into her skin, tracing already protruding hipbones and xylophone ribs.
"Once upon a time,"
She whispered as ink seeped hazy lines around her
"I was beautiful."
I tried to tell her she was gorgeous 20 pounds ago, before her hair fell out, before stomach acid rotted her teeth, before she cancelled our dinner dates.
"Once upon a time,"
She wheezed as her hands faltered and she began to shake
"I had friends"
I tried to tell her
I climbed up my bunk bed, stoned off of banana peals and Benadryl and chocolate holding a pillow for dear life in case I fell. Gravity is a bitch and I sprained both my wrists.
This never happened.
Every minute a red light flashes on the smoke detector. Every minute two people commit suicide. Apparently only one is worthy of recognition. Im becom
i smoke like burning embers
slowly dieing and waiting
for life
for love
(or maybe
just
cancer)
perhaps between my aching
breaths, between my clouds
of troubles
of heartache
(or maybe
just
smoke)
i whisper your name, knowing
i have to quit because i
'taste bad'
'smell funny'
(or maybe
just
get loose)
what you dont know often hurts
you but this time youre
only wrong
only selfish
(or maybe
just
concerned)
none of that matters now, all
i want to say to you is
im sorry
im burning
(or maybe
just
go away)
its been a long, yet easy
month, and im still waiting
for life
for love
(or maybe
just
cancer)
the rain
splattered
on the front
windows
making patterns
on a
gloomy
day.
the windshield-wipers
demolished
an image of
beauty
held for
only
a second
that would
never
be the same.
its quite like still birth
i raised my beer bottle
towards the sky, watching
the sunlight obscure through
the amber bottle. slowly
it tilted and i listened
to the last few drops
sizzle on the pavement
between my feet
the crowd flew by as
my mute voice sang
out "support underage
alcoholics"
and no one turned
around. Blue walked up
and ruffled my hair as he sat
beside me. "hey help
me get this girl drunk
so i can have sex with her"
instantly a man gave him twenty
dollars and a blessing.
Blue walked of leaving me
with my scars glistening in the rare
San Francisco sunlight. a boy
with similar patterns
called me beautiful, gave
me a hug and walked a
Johnnie came to me from his home beneath the sink. I have nothing to give him but hotel shampoo, he tells me not to worry, takes his products and goes home to dish detergent.
Months went by and I waited for his preachings to come true, my hair is now greasy, my bagel is stale, my brother is in denial, my dad is Virginia tech in the planning stages.
And my mom lies.
Johnnie finally came back wide eyed and bushy haired. He had seen and applauded my neck snapping and my arms bleeding. He took my good wrist and sliced me open. But I wouldnt bleed for him. Johnnie has always been a friend and gave me a bandaid.
Now I hallucinate
What Ana Told Me Last Summer. by AJezzy, literature
Literature
What Ana Told Me Last Summer.
She drew bones into her skin, tracing already protruding hipbones and xylophone ribs.
"Once upon a time,"
She whispered as ink seeped hazy lines around her
"I was beautiful."
I tried to tell her she was gorgeous 20 pounds ago, before her hair fell out, before stomach acid rotted her teeth, before she cancelled our dinner dates.
"Once upon a time,"
She wheezed as her hands faltered and she began to shake
"I had friends"
I tried to tell her
I climbed up my bunk bed, stoned off of banana peals and Benadryl and chocolate holding a pillow for dear life in case I fell. Gravity is a bitch and I sprained both my wrists.
This never happened.
Every minute a red light flashes on the smoke detector. Every minute two people commit suicide. Apparently only one is worthy of recognition. Im becom
i smoke like burning embers
slowly dieing and waiting
for life
for love
(or maybe
just
cancer)
perhaps between my aching
breaths, between my clouds
of troubles
of heartache
(or maybe
just
smoke)
i whisper your name, knowing
i have to quit because i
'taste bad'
'smell funny'
(or maybe
just
get loose)
what you dont know often hurts
you but this time youre
only wrong
only selfish
(or maybe
just
concerned)
none of that matters now, all
i want to say to you is
im sorry
im burning
(or maybe
just
go away)
its been a long, yet easy
month, and im still waiting
for life
for love
(or maybe
just
cancer)