[x]

don't go if you've got more to sayand last night i saw you, the real you
the you that i had buried under layers and layers of
blues and greens
from trying to find something
that was almost you
but not quite.
and i didn't cry
i didn't shatter into a million stupid pieces
i froze
like you were a car with high beams
and i was a scared little deer.
cause i hadn't seen past this you i made up
for so fucking long.
but i remembered
that you didn't catch my attention at first.
but when you did.
my god
i couldn't look away.
and i wish i had have stayed
with my eyes closed.
cause i was so proud of myself
for tearing my heart
away from you
and out of underneath your skin
or between your fingers

32you were gone before it even sank in that you were really there.
habit is the worst thing, cause it made me so blind to the fact that you could
just as easily be snatched away from me.
i should have hugged you at least four more times
i've spent the better half of a year being your definition of evil and insane
at the same time. i've known better than everything i've done, but done it
anyway. god knows i've repeated the same tedious/dangerous/stupid
actions over and over wanting/expecting different results.
you wouldn't be proud of me for anything anymore.
but i'm still mad at you, i'm sure of it. if you waded through the
rising tides, or peeled away my blue like old house paint, you'd find something
that screams how you broke everything inside me. and how you were one single event
that taught me that just cause something ends, that doesn't mean its over.
and that i will waste every single change given to me.
the only thing you ever told me that i listened to, was to rest occasionally.

039i will write about you until i run out of
words in my blood
or breath in my lungs.
whichever comes first.

pressure.she was cracked in places only she could feel, and where the blood could only be tasted, and not seen.
her lips, fingertips and inside her chest. she learned that there are certain body parts prone to being cut or bruised, and her white laced knees could attest to that. but there comes a time when cutting your leg on the coffee table or pinching your stomach with your belt buckle, isn't an accident anymore. its something more, and you know it is. but you can go so long without ever admitting it to yourself, and even longer for anyone else.

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)

dissipation
sometimes she wanted to tear the skin off her arms and dip the bared bones under water
and see if they still swelled and grew into logs rather than the twigs she craved.
it was as if there were little sandbags under the surface and they were delicately lined
and the water would sink inside them and grow and bulge and drag her under
(sometimes she does, sometimes she considers herself the bird in the bush:
dewy feathers doing nothing but chilling her to the bone; and she floats, head hung,
waiting for the currents to make her less than the nothing she considers herself to be)
but the weight is invisible, and despite its insistence
and the grey she feels all over, her feet won’t reach the bottom;
her toes are the only thing losing feeling--
she painted them red. cherry red like summer’s lovechild even though winter
had already found its home beneath her bed; red and quiet and refined like
the paper women she’d seen in magazines. she wore spring blouses with flowe

by association.don't shoot the messenger
she told herself
but her aim was unsteady
and the wind blew her off target
they were all rotten anyway.

039i spent 3.50 on this coffee from some hole in the wall and its not really doing anything to ease me or wake me up from this shaken state i'm stuck in, but its helping my hands keep still or away from trouble.
you're avoiding. talk.
the barrister put two sugars instead of one, its too sweet, but i'll drink it anyway. look. i haven't gotten anything spilled on me yet.
god dammit, just stop it. you need to tell me what the fuck happened last night. there was blood on your shoes and you jumped out of your skin when i touch you even the smallest amount. where did you go?
just. out. with. some friends.
you are so full of shit you know that. your right fingers tapping. that's your tell.
well done. i'm still not telling you, cause its not your business.

waste.distance is the worst thing ever
and i think
'if these people were closer, everything would
just be so much better'
but then i stop
and remember all the people in my town
who i barely see
and the thought
s
i
n
k
s
to the same place
he sits
he's my bottom
my rock bottom

awake from my dream state.it was a leap of faith
but i wish someone had pushed me
so i had someone to blame

unlovenot all self harm comes
in the obvious form of lines up arms or down thighs
of throwing up insides and self worth
into toilet bowls with the sounds
that make you wonder how you're not dead.
she picked at her lips constantly
cracking and splitting
peeling and bleeding
it stung
more than expected
and it bled
more than ever anticipated
even after she's been doing it all day
she drank her tea that was still steaming
still made her hands flinch from the
far too hot porceline
but she parted lips
and felt it force it way down
burning and splitting
her lips and throat
before settling
like molten in her
ash filled stomach
tiny fingers
pinching, squeezing
pulling on skin
making underneath it
burst
and bloom
her blood like water colour
exploding and spreading
and mixing over
thighs and stomachs
no-one thinks to notice
the bruises
they're accidental
right?

52.i. you make me feel like i'm stuck in perpetual limbo.
you're not all here, but not all gone and i never
ever know how to feel about it all.
but i am sick to fucking death of goodbyes
and you are one less i have to actually say.
2. i realised on the car ride home tonight
that i haven't been to the coastal beach this summer
and the very first connecting thought was
i haven't tried to drown myself in the ocean
one these three months.
3. i am tearing myself apart with external optimism
and internal pessimism.
and running in circles after blurs that might be ghosts
or maybe its just a car
either way it might kill me
and thats all i can really hope for.

031.Things to do;
1) admire the entire city from the rooftop
2) smoke a whole packet of dunhill reds.
3) Jump.

072i ached enough that day
to salt the atlantic ocean
three time over

stuck to the back of my throat.yesterday i saw you in cracks of my staircase
and inbetween the pages of my class novel.
you look like hell, and i thought the
darkened circles under your eyes
resembled the colour i think my
love for you would probably be.
its saddening that the thick oxygenated
purple and red mix is kind of like
what i saw once one one
of those anti smoking commercials
spilling forth from a dissected lung.
thats what you are.
you're my personal cancer.

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i cant stand the shaking.If it's you and me against the world, im okay.

If it's me on my own, I'll bend and bruise but I'll not break

By me against you.

I will not -

Cannot do it.

circling round then finally breaking.i exploded.

let twelve years of unspoken, and bottled up bullshit out
in the space of about thirty seconds.

and i’m sure in my mind it looked like i’d finally sprouted
flowers from all my deep rooted
deep seeded neurosis

but to you i probably looked
sad
and lonely

it was tiny pieces, leading to bigger picture.i. you refused to take your coat off
even indoors
even with the heater on.
ii. you shook constantly
and never noticed.
you had adjusted
to wonky vision.
iii. you haven't really heard anything
i've said in at least a couple hundred days.
iv. your face was red
and you argued invisible points
i think it was so you knew
you could still talk
still think
somewhat straight.
v. i knew it was a lie.
i knew you weren't really okay.
but i didn't want to face anything.
i couldnt face you.
i couldn't face it.

336.does it count as a sign
some grand
NOTICE THIS AND PAY ATTENTION
THE UNIVERSE IS TRYING TO HELP YOU
if its something you put there intentionally
and for this exact reason.
and when does divine intervention
become a fucking coincidence?

the city is my witness.there was a fire, in the pits of her stomach, filling her with warmth that wrapped around bones and flourished on her skin like war paint. it made her fight even when the rain was pouring down on her, like a shower of bullets. it was in there when she was sleeping, making sure that she continued to breath and not let anything take her away from the mission, the war that she was going to win.
she had baggage that was heavy, and she was starting to notice it more and more as the years started to change from a trickle to a hurricane force that was threatening to completely destroy her. oceans rising, the flames licking her ribcage, and bones creaking under weights that just kept growing as each month passed.
the flourishes on her skin were becoming darker and less like trophies and more like tiny deaths that she couldn't shake. there were places that were permanently discoloured, angry and sore. the fire gave way to tangled thoughts and a twisted stomach with a constant sinking feeling, a

10.april 10th.
i have lost this battle.
but oh
i am not losing this
mother fucking war.

this is not the time
or the fucking place
to die.

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Submitted: February 2
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003

by ~ohsparrowsong, Feb 2, 2013, 9:26:45 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

_{its easier to say
"i'm fine, just tired"
than explain the water rising
when really they just asked out of politeness
and don't -actually- care.}

003by ~ohsparrowsong

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

©2013 ~ohsparrowsong

_{just fuck off.
the lot of you.}

=AzizrianDaoXrak Apr 12, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

This is just a friendly little note to let you know this lovely piece has been featured!: [link]

Please consider taking a peek at the other featured pieces and faving the article to support the other artists

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~ohsparrowsong Apr 12, 2013

_{oh thank you!}

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=AzizrianDaoXrak Apr 12, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

You're welcome!

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!hazeltown Feb 27, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

but we can't we love you too much <3

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~ohsparrowsong Feb 27, 2013

_<3

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~violetense Feb 19, 2013 Student Writer

At this point, 'tired' is pretty much part of my personality description.

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~ohsparrowsong Feb 19, 2013

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~azazelin Feb 11, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

^{i use that line.
much easier.}

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~ohsparrowsong Feb 11, 2013

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~stitchpunkz Feb 3, 2013

You'd be surprised how many people actually do care, sometimes even once you wouldn't expect to

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