It’s raining you say,
but the sky is blue.
It never dripped down on anyone but you.
Because there’s this cloud
that follows when you’re happy
and it tricks you
into thinking the day
is fading gray.
But it’s only you,
and I just have to stay
watching the storm follow you
to the long awaited grave
that you dream of every day.
We used to sing on drunken nights to shed the weight of life.
Growing old beneath
shaky skies, never thinking of
what would come.
I’m trying to think of a way to say this without sounding like an asshole, but I don’t think that there’s any way to sugar coat it. Truth is, I am incredibly picky when it comes to girls. If I led you to believe that there was some sort of “thing” between us, I’m sorry, but chances are that somewhere along the line I had a change of heart. I don’t know the extent of my “teasing” you, because you’re anonymous. I’d say that if I haven’t solidified anything with you yet, it’s because I am either not interested, not in a good state of mind to make such heavy decisions, or you haven’t made your advances clear enough. It’s most likely not the latter, because I’m very good at knowing when a girl is into me. Anyway, I’d be willing to bet that it’s because I don’t want to be romantically involved with you. I’m very particular when it comes to those things.
is to get an extra cup and lid from the tea house so I can fill it up with beer and walk around town getting drunk. Today I’ll do just that, and I’ll write down all the things I do and see. Maybe I’ll post some of those things for you. I doubt it though.
You know you’re lazy when you’re laying down on your side and typing/scrolling with one hand at a rate of about ten words per minute. How else am I supposed go from the internet straight into a nap?
I may never live as a writer,
but I will die as one.
You wear my memory on your sleeve,
and it bleeds desperate moans
into white lines of the black journal
you keep under your tongue.
Where you hold each wasted thought
spent on the love that never was.
So you paint your heavy eyes
to match the color of emptiness
that keeps you awake at night.
Drinking the stars into disarray
is just another way of saying goodbye,
but leaving can take an entire life.
And, I’m sorry.
But I know it means nothing.
The rain came all at once that year
and our summer sun slept for a week
beneath blankets of darkened sky.
Exploding with each burst of electric light,
the heavens cracked like sun worn pavement
and we watched as fire fell from faded blue.
Nothing is more perfect than warm lips meeting
as puddles grow into oceans beneath our feet.
Drowned is the fear of the lonesome and cold
as the world fills up with the weight of the sky.
Our love rising with our bodies confused heat
From steam, to fog, and everything beyond.
Yeah, unfollow me for posting a shitty poem, but don’t unfollow me for not posting anything for months. Apparently I’m more popular in silence. This wasn’t very good reassurance that I should come back to tumblr.
I keep thinking
about the hours spent
in my tired head,
just spinning webs
of poisoned thoughts.
And I’m missing
the rhythm of your
fingers against my skin,
like the moon misses
the company of
a distant sun.
I’m in pieces,
but the other half
is with you,
in dying days.
How can I let you love me if I don’t know who you are?
Shit, I don’t know. I’m a lonely fuck. You can message me off anon. I’d like that more.