Things to Say

A writing project

Sometimes, I go and hit the random button on my blog, and it takes me back to like 2 years ago and I just think “wow, these are awful” and then I remember that it took me a long time to get here and I’m still very proud of some of the work I have produced.

Dear followers

New and old, I would just like to say a quick thank you for all the support you have given me. Not everything I write is great, most things, but I feel like I have become a better writer over all and that wouldn’t have happened without the immense care and love you have shown me. So thank you, thank you. Have a wonderful day.

I am made of terrible poetry and I am still proud of me

quietactions:

Tonight,
I found a park 
2 blocks away from my apartment.
There were four swings
without memories hanging from their chains
and when I sat,
swinging my legs,
they pushed me into the air
with the same strength
that they had before.

I laid my warm skin
on cool grass
in an open field
looking up at the stars for answers
and the stars said
"fuck you,
we are so much bigger than that”
so I stayed and watched
until I could no longer stand 
the bugs on my skin.

I walked home,
past the abandoned tortilla chips
on the picnic table,
and the bright 
red, yellow, blue
of the play-set
and thought
"okay,
that’s just fine”
about me,
about everything.

I am made of terrible poetry and I am still proud of me

Tonight,
I found a park 
2 blocks away from my apartment.
There were four swings
without memories hanging from their chains
and when I sat,
swinging my legs,
they pushed me into the air
with the same strength
that they had before.

I laid my warm skin
on cool grass
in an open field
looking up at the stars for answers
and the stars said
"fuck you,
we are so much bigger than that”
so I stayed and watched
until I could no longer stand 
the bugs on my skin.

I walked home,
past the abandoned tortilla chips
on the picnic table,
and the bright 
red, yellow, blue
of the play-set
and thought
"okay,
that’s just fine”
about me,
about everything.

quietactions:

I can hear my neighbors laughing next door
the walls here a thin
I’m thinking about you
and I wish I wasn’t
I should have learned by now
heartbreak looks different on you
than it does on me
I write sad poems in cold apartments
and you
I don’t want to write about what you do
it hurts too much
and I wish it didn’t.

quietactions:

The same part of your brain wakes up when you
eat a scoop of ice cream
take cocaine
fall in love
or cut yourself.

I guess I’m just trying to feel
your love again.
Even if it isn’t real.

(via angels-can-die)

quietactions:

The sign marking Lewisburg
hung upside down
on our way out of the city.
I didn’t have my seatbelt on
as we drove up
the winding dead end road.
You told me the houses up there
wouldn’t be filled until summertime
but when we arrived
a woman sat on the porch.
I wondered why she was alone.

It was quiet as we looked out over the hills
at the wrong side of the sunset.
The sky was pink, yellow, and blue
and my camera couldn’t capture it.
We rolled down the windows
to smell the pines on the wind.
You didn’t put your arm around me
or kiss me as we sat
but I told you the rain would come again.

On the way home
the smoke from your cigarette
drifted to my tongue.
It tasted bitter.

quietactions:

When the leaves have abandoned the trees come winter,
the branches splay out like the veins on a heart,
and I can’t help but wonder if I ripped you apart,
your capillaries might tell me more about you than your words ever did,
and I might feel better with your blood on my hands,
because at least then I’d have evidence that I had touched you.

quietactions:

It’s been months
and I still don’t know
how to sleep without you.

quietactions:

I started having sex too young
I was a child
who didn’t understand what it meant
to be touched like that.
But I thought I would be safe
if I promised myself
to only give my body to someone
that I love.
I forgot to tell myself it matters
if they love me back.

(via rippednylons)