I've added more. It's supposed to be full of run-on thoughts. Just know that.
Politely pounding on the thick wall
That separates our two dissimilar rooms
Screaming something about being late and how it's
Always My Fault.
I picked a pile at random from my bedroom
Floor and began searching for my regular simple
Outfit that consists of a ripped pair of Levi's
And a too-large band tee that always smells like
Men And Cigarettes.
Converse is my way of life, and each morning
I grab one of the seven pairs I own, and lazily
Tie their mismatched laces while reading the
Years of graffiti I've scribbled into every crevice
With Black Sharpie.
Among dozens of posters that cover every
Damn inch of my white bedroom walls, sits
A vandalized mirror, in which I sneak a peek
at my reflection and glare at myself through the
Eye Pencil Markings.
I can't be bothered to find a comb and run
My un-polished fingers through two feet of
Purple-dyed hair, getting trapped in a tangle
Of damaged and split ends that I never give
A Shit About.
Today won't be a regular shitty sun-streaked morning,
Though, as the sun has not yet come out from behind
Thick musty clouds and I can taste salt from the nearby
Atlantic making my tongue crave sweetness that I know he
Will Satisfy Today.
His body is fragile and hopefully I'm the only person who holds
The possibility to exert pressure on it without hearing the
Glass of his eyes shatter while the threads of his skin delicately
Woven together rip loudly causing a sound that would force my
Heart To Deflate.
My disastrous morning leads to awkward lunch filled with
Brown paper bags and purple plastic trays strewn across
Dozens of rectangular tables that each seat twelve people
Who think of nothing but assignments, popularity, and
The Day's End.
The ninth period bell screams freedom
To all the anxious students who actually
Have somewhere to go after class like sports
Practice, but I simply shuffle to my locker,
Waiting For Him.
Pale, smooth skin of my back from shoulder
To shoulder leans against the cold metal of
My persimmon locker while my legs are casually
Folded upon the tiled floor that was stepped
On All Day.
Tracing my index finger along a blue tile's flat
Edge, but in my mind I'm tracing the curves of
His features, from a naked ear to his perfectly
Chiseled jaw bone, his chin down to the nape
Of His Neck.
Upon opening my eyes, I squint into sunlight beaming
Through the window across the hall from my position on
The dirty floor and hear his subtle footsteps as he fails
To sneak up on me, but I always lovingly allow him to
Think He Succeeded.
It's not the kind of love that you find every day in high school
Where the popular boys and girls fit their beautiful bodies
Together and everyone else just sits and 'oh's and 'ah's at their
Incredible attraction and everyone wants to appear just as
Happy As Them.
We are the outcasts who walk the halls silently; listening to bands
Who yell and scream their disappointment and heartbreak loudly
Above bass, guitar, and a shirtless guy head-banging along with the
Pounding of the drums in front of him; and we are
Always Considered Ugly.
But in our minds we only see us sitting, our slender hands
Wrapped together in a tangle of fingers and palms
That always hate being apart and only wish that
They could stay mixed together
Without Any Remarks.
He stands and I put my toes on his as he pulls
Me up even though he lacks muscle but that's okay
With me because even with dirty unwashed
Hair I think that he is my hero
Draped In Chains.
Once again we don't resemble the perfect couple
Because he is at least two inches shorter than me
So when I go in for a kiss, I have to awkwardly slouch
To the perfect height so that our
Lips Can Touch.
But I don't care how we look to the other people
Because we are perfect for each other even if no one
Else believes in our relationship because we are puzzle
Pieces from two different puzzles with various patterns
That Somehow Match.
I don't know how to explain it more than by saying
That it's hard to explain and it's inexplainable and I
Don't even know if that's a word but I don't care
Because right now it's perfect like
Our Insane Closeness.
I want to just sit here kissing him softly and I won't
Fall because I'm still holding his hands that are
Rough from doing yard work for cash so that he can
Pay for our lunch dates that we go on instead of
Staying On Campus.
He pulls away and looks at me and I can tell that he has
Something that he really wants to say but can't manage
To say it so I say "go on," and he does and his words break
My heart but fix it at the same time and, oh God I
Never Make Sense.
It would make sense for nothing in the world to make sense
If even what I say doesn't make sense in my mind and even
What I'm saying now doesn't make sense and I need to just shut
Up and think about what happened and how it
Makes Me Feel.
I need to write the words down in swirling cursive but I can't
Because I have horrible penmanship and not even the most
Professional calligraphy could depict the meaning of those words
And their effect on me and my life and
My Unconditional Love.
All I can manage to do is cry and it makes me look
Just as weak as I feel and I can't be doing this right
Now and right here and with him right in front of me
So I pull my hands out from his grasp and
Run Like Hell.
I listen to my heart pounding and clogging my throat
And my breathes are turning to uncontrollable wheezes
And I can't manage to stop running with my hands over
My face until I reach the Men's bathroom and run
In To Hide.
I pick the corner farthest from the entrance to the dirty
School lavatory and just bawl my eyes out slamming my fists
Against the walls and I trip over my own left foot and fall to
The ground, roll into a ball, pounding the
Gross Restroom Floor.
I hug my knees into my chest and try to slow my breathing
And make my heart calm down but I can't because I'm
Overwhelmed with emotion and I don't know what else but it
Hurts more than the keys in my pocket that are
Stabbing My Leg.
I sloppily grab them and throw them with all the energy I have
Left which doesn't amount to much because they just
Hit the surface of a smudged mirror without a single crack
Before they fall into one of the sinks probably
Clogged With Soap.
I sit and try to force my thoughts into a direction that
Has nothing to do with him but I can't manage it and
Even when I try to think about classes I think about my
AP Anatomy class and then about the curves
Of His Body.
And even thinking about the color blue reminds me
Of his shoelaces that are rarely ever tied and how
Somehow he never trips over the loose laces because
Even though he's dirty he's
So Magically Poised.
I'm still trying to think about anything but him and it doesn't
Work because he's always on my mind even when that's
The last place I want him besides in this bathroom next to
Me, and eventually I force myself to stand up and walk
To The Sink.
I curve my pinky and put it through the hole in my keychain
And lift out the keys and focus on the clinking sound they make
And my mind wanders to how the chains in his jeans always
Make that noise and it's so soothing it could lull
Me To Sleep.
I take the keys with me into one of the two stalls in the
Bathroom across from the four urinals with those weird
Pink soap-bar-looking things that look like they belong
In the girl's bathroom but ran away because they hate the
Smell Of Perfume.
I don't want to sit on the toilet because it looks too
Dirty for even me to handle so I settle with kneeling
On the ground like I'm about to propose to a black
Stall door with a broken lock and graffiti about all
The School Sluts.
I take my sharpest key and carve into the door like
It's an art project that I'm hoping to win an award for
And I'm trying to put my heart into what I'm carving
Permanently into this property but I seem to have
Lost My Heart.
After two minutes
I can clearly see
The message I etched
On this innocent door.
And even though
They aren't my words,
They feel like they
Belong to me
Since they are the words
That will cause my
Most recent
Heartbreak.
Outburst.
Suicide attempt.
"I'm sorry I love you."
I lean against the door and
Continue crying.
Poetry by kaytee
Read 822 times
Written on 2009-01-17 at 19:14
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Write a comment (requires login)
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Print text
Pacey - redone
I woke up to the sound of BrookePolitely pounding on the thick wall
That separates our two dissimilar rooms
Screaming something about being late and how it's
Always My Fault.
I picked a pile at random from my bedroom
Floor and began searching for my regular simple
Outfit that consists of a ripped pair of Levi's
And a too-large band tee that always smells like
Men And Cigarettes.
Converse is my way of life, and each morning
I grab one of the seven pairs I own, and lazily
Tie their mismatched laces while reading the
Years of graffiti I've scribbled into every crevice
With Black Sharpie.
Among dozens of posters that cover every
Damn inch of my white bedroom walls, sits
A vandalized mirror, in which I sneak a peek
at my reflection and glare at myself through the
Eye Pencil Markings.
I can't be bothered to find a comb and run
My un-polished fingers through two feet of
Purple-dyed hair, getting trapped in a tangle
Of damaged and split ends that I never give
A Shit About.
Today won't be a regular shitty sun-streaked morning,
Though, as the sun has not yet come out from behind
Thick musty clouds and I can taste salt from the nearby
Atlantic making my tongue crave sweetness that I know he
Will Satisfy Today.
His body is fragile and hopefully I'm the only person who holds
The possibility to exert pressure on it without hearing the
Glass of his eyes shatter while the threads of his skin delicately
Woven together rip loudly causing a sound that would force my
Heart To Deflate.
My disastrous morning leads to awkward lunch filled with
Brown paper bags and purple plastic trays strewn across
Dozens of rectangular tables that each seat twelve people
Who think of nothing but assignments, popularity, and
The Day's End.
The ninth period bell screams freedom
To all the anxious students who actually
Have somewhere to go after class like sports
Practice, but I simply shuffle to my locker,
Waiting For Him.
Pale, smooth skin of my back from shoulder
To shoulder leans against the cold metal of
My persimmon locker while my legs are casually
Folded upon the tiled floor that was stepped
On All Day.
Tracing my index finger along a blue tile's flat
Edge, but in my mind I'm tracing the curves of
His features, from a naked ear to his perfectly
Chiseled jaw bone, his chin down to the nape
Of His Neck.
Upon opening my eyes, I squint into sunlight beaming
Through the window across the hall from my position on
The dirty floor and hear his subtle footsteps as he fails
To sneak up on me, but I always lovingly allow him to
Think He Succeeded.
It's not the kind of love that you find every day in high school
Where the popular boys and girls fit their beautiful bodies
Together and everyone else just sits and 'oh's and 'ah's at their
Incredible attraction and everyone wants to appear just as
Happy As Them.
We are the outcasts who walk the halls silently; listening to bands
Who yell and scream their disappointment and heartbreak loudly
Above bass, guitar, and a shirtless guy head-banging along with the
Pounding of the drums in front of him; and we are
Always Considered Ugly.
But in our minds we only see us sitting, our slender hands
Wrapped together in a tangle of fingers and palms
That always hate being apart and only wish that
They could stay mixed together
Without Any Remarks.
He stands and I put my toes on his as he pulls
Me up even though he lacks muscle but that's okay
With me because even with dirty unwashed
Hair I think that he is my hero
Draped In Chains.
Once again we don't resemble the perfect couple
Because he is at least two inches shorter than me
So when I go in for a kiss, I have to awkwardly slouch
To the perfect height so that our
Lips Can Touch.
But I don't care how we look to the other people
Because we are perfect for each other even if no one
Else believes in our relationship because we are puzzle
Pieces from two different puzzles with various patterns
That Somehow Match.
I don't know how to explain it more than by saying
That it's hard to explain and it's inexplainable and I
Don't even know if that's a word but I don't care
Because right now it's perfect like
Our Insane Closeness.
I want to just sit here kissing him softly and I won't
Fall because I'm still holding his hands that are
Rough from doing yard work for cash so that he can
Pay for our lunch dates that we go on instead of
Staying On Campus.
He pulls away and looks at me and I can tell that he has
Something that he really wants to say but can't manage
To say it so I say "go on," and he does and his words break
My heart but fix it at the same time and, oh God I
Never Make Sense.
It would make sense for nothing in the world to make sense
If even what I say doesn't make sense in my mind and even
What I'm saying now doesn't make sense and I need to just shut
Up and think about what happened and how it
Makes Me Feel.
I need to write the words down in swirling cursive but I can't
Because I have horrible penmanship and not even the most
Professional calligraphy could depict the meaning of those words
And their effect on me and my life and
My Unconditional Love.
All I can manage to do is cry and it makes me look
Just as weak as I feel and I can't be doing this right
Now and right here and with him right in front of me
So I pull my hands out from his grasp and
Run Like Hell.
I listen to my heart pounding and clogging my throat
And my breathes are turning to uncontrollable wheezes
And I can't manage to stop running with my hands over
My face until I reach the Men's bathroom and run
In To Hide.
I pick the corner farthest from the entrance to the dirty
School lavatory and just bawl my eyes out slamming my fists
Against the walls and I trip over my own left foot and fall to
The ground, roll into a ball, pounding the
Gross Restroom Floor.
I hug my knees into my chest and try to slow my breathing
And make my heart calm down but I can't because I'm
Overwhelmed with emotion and I don't know what else but it
Hurts more than the keys in my pocket that are
Stabbing My Leg.
I sloppily grab them and throw them with all the energy I have
Left which doesn't amount to much because they just
Hit the surface of a smudged mirror without a single crack
Before they fall into one of the sinks probably
Clogged With Soap.
I sit and try to force my thoughts into a direction that
Has nothing to do with him but I can't manage it and
Even when I try to think about classes I think about my
AP Anatomy class and then about the curves
Of His Body.
And even thinking about the color blue reminds me
Of his shoelaces that are rarely ever tied and how
Somehow he never trips over the loose laces because
Even though he's dirty he's
So Magically Poised.
I'm still trying to think about anything but him and it doesn't
Work because he's always on my mind even when that's
The last place I want him besides in this bathroom next to
Me, and eventually I force myself to stand up and walk
To The Sink.
I curve my pinky and put it through the hole in my keychain
And lift out the keys and focus on the clinking sound they make
And my mind wanders to how the chains in his jeans always
Make that noise and it's so soothing it could lull
Me To Sleep.
I take the keys with me into one of the two stalls in the
Bathroom across from the four urinals with those weird
Pink soap-bar-looking things that look like they belong
In the girl's bathroom but ran away because they hate the
Smell Of Perfume.
I don't want to sit on the toilet because it looks too
Dirty for even me to handle so I settle with kneeling
On the ground like I'm about to propose to a black
Stall door with a broken lock and graffiti about all
The School Sluts.
I take my sharpest key and carve into the door like
It's an art project that I'm hoping to win an award for
And I'm trying to put my heart into what I'm carving
Permanently into this property but I seem to have
Lost My Heart.
After two minutes
I can clearly see
The message I etched
On this innocent door.
And even though
They aren't my words,
They feel like they
Belong to me
Since they are the words
That will cause my
Most recent
Heartbreak.
Outburst.
Suicide attempt.
"I'm sorry I love you."
I lean against the door and
Continue crying.
Poetry by kaytee
Read 822 times
Written on 2009-01-17 at 19:14
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
