its Sunday night.four-o-six AM.
;;
Im sitting here,thees songs on repeat and the postcards scattered on the floor.
Just absorbing all of thees lies and thinking about what you must be starting to
look like,with your emaciated body and band aid wrists,pulling the tape measure around your small little waist and smiling to yourself cause your finally starting to be something your not.[and isn't everyone thees days?].All of the frantic back
seat romances to make you feel like someone actually cared,honey you make those
awful things I did look as holy and delicate as those promises that should have been kept.
The highs are getting as hollow as your stomach,and I shake a bit more each time you just shrug off this crisis,glitter mascara is sticking to your eyelashes &&
your still not nearly as pretty as you thought thees problems would make you.
Im digging through all of those second chances i gave you and those half assed excuses are building up underneath my fingernails,the closet holds envelopes with photo booth memories stained by all of those countless blackouts
[five days;;no eating,you know how it goes,right sweety?]
The rain is pounding on the window && I can remember those thunder thunderstorms,
the ones where we took our clothes off and ran around laughing like it could have somehow washed away fingerprints of boys who kiss for all the wrong reasons.we were always looking for love in all the wrong places,especially in each other.You just get up each morning and loose yourself in your reflection,whether its in that black coffee [and when the fuck did we get that old?] or in the mirror,your never gonna find what your looking for.
by the way;;when i was saying goodbye,your breath smelled like cigarettes and I started to realize just how fucking pathetic you are.
Author notes
yeah,my ex best friend is a huge fag.
btw i had another poem with this title and i realized it blowed so i deleted it.
so if you read that one please erase it from your memory.=]
A contest entry
- DirtyPretty - Prewrites or Fresh by xxRainbowDawnxx.
450 points, ended July 30, 2008, 52 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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I love the raw emotion that comes from this piece...yeah, sometimes those we are closest to end up being who we thought they were not...no matter how many memories we've shared with them. Love the way you ended this piece, very 'fuck you' ish.
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"the closet holds envelopes with photo booth memories stained by all of those countless blackouts"
I get it now...and the last verse is pretty much whats been running through my head you just put it into words.
"You just get up each morning and loose yourself in your reflection,whether its in that black coffee [and when the fuck did we get that old?] or in the mirror,your never gonna find what your looking for" -
straight up, and entirely true.
gorgeous... :\
but painful.
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hm.
I like it.
Better dirty pretty than normal.
A couple problems I had, one being that "thees" is spelled "these".
Sorry, it just bugged me.
Pretty goddamn beautiful and raw, if you ask me.
"you're still not nearly as pretty as you thought these problems would make you."
I love that line.
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