Here are some of my writings! Right now it's just poems, but I plan on putting some of my other work here eventually.
My head hurts
From scrunching my face so much
I don’t mean to do it
I used to never
But now I can’t seem to help it
The wrinkles on my face
From when I used to smile all the time
Are going away
Don’t look at me like that
I’ll only fall in love with you again
And I know where that leads
Endless nights spiraling, hoping you’ll see
But you’re busy, I understand
I wouldn’t ever leave you hung up on me
Even if I’m hung up on you
I don’t think it’s ‘hung up’ in a bad way
All I mean is you’re all I ever think about
Maybe that is the ‘bad way’ but
I like it
The way you fill my head with excitement and passion
Even though it’ll never be nothing more than
Passionate passing kisses and the occasional ‘I love you’s”
I like it
And please don’t feel bad
But I just can’t imagine my life without you
And forever I’ll always be glad
That I feel this connection between us two
I know your tired
But I just can’t help but feel upset when you never text me
That doesn’t matter though
I’ll still reply to your texts the second you send them
God damn it you make me upset
But it isn’t your fault
I’ll never hold you to a burden like myself
Because at the end of the day
You’ve loved me more than anyone else
Im sick
And can't do anything
I'm tired
But nothing will change
I know
I know
The promise of tomorrow is never guaranteed
“I swear, trust me, just take my word please”
I wash my face with dirty water and pretend my love is carving her name in my back with little hearts
The club next to the graveyard, across the road from the graveyard
The vibrations rattle the coffins
A little boy’s mother shakes to the sound of an 808 blasting harder than the bomb that killed her
That faithful day
Blood drips onto the ground as people sing of love, peace, and Jesus Christ.
"Noah, stop picking your scabs."
A coin falls into the well
Filled with a wish
Gentle hands
Embrace the coin
Long, white hair Flows with the Small body of water Beautiful eyes
Crawling
Crawling
I am crawling
I am crawling to your room
I'm at the door
Open the door please
Please open the door
I never liked scabs.
They just always felt so weird.
The thought of "new skin" growing over wounds just made me feel so yucky,
and I'm not even sure why.It's like I don't trust my own skin, but then what is there to trust?
The thoughts of a shattered man,
smear all across the floor.
Everything feels warm, yet so cold,
and for a slight second, time stood still.
Fleeting memories fade away
as they flow from his head onto the
faux wooden floorboards.
Forever lost,
the memories of what made him human,
but not the sharp, piercing pain that made him man.
I don't think nothing matters anymore
What do they do that makes them more important
Nothing
Nothing at all
A second brain, filling a room with drawers after drawers of index cards.
A man sits at his desk riddled with page after page of scribbles,
writing another thought on an index card,
before getting up and placing it in a box.
His life's work sits idle in archive boxes.
Blood flying through the air,
the body of a man lays still on the ground.
A crowd roars with delightment and sorrow,
the new middleweight champion has been decided.
Juicy, fleshy
One single hair stands solicely
In the sea of blood
A buring sensation on my arm