

never know I.never know by ~Kirsten-18
the words, they overtake me
grief is never all-consuming; i've yet to lose
this habit of boxing and wrapping my sorrows,
packaging them into tiny little poems -
the rest of me goes crazy though.
II.
i am
acutely aware
of how blotchy
my face becomes.
III.
i want to let go.
it never happens, or at least,
never lasts.
i want to let go
and i want you to hold me.
i am too composed for this.
IV.
easy.
oh no.
i never could.
easy
has never been an option i've taken,
most likel


seventeen ageseventeen by ~Kirsten-18
is what allows me
to pay only a dollar fifty
for the bus;
what keeps me
from going out and dancing;
creates an excuse
for me to dance all night long
in the bedroom next to mine
with a boy who isn't the one i'm with
dance, dance, my body next to his
against it, feeling the effects
of the drink i had earlier and
the pushing and pulling
and always the spinning of the room.
the spinning of my head as he touches my skin
and god it's nice to have someone
else to lead, instead of me:
the hands on my hips explaining
where to go and when to move
and telling me how good it is.
something about dancing in a dark room
to this mus


breathe. oh, someone sedate me.breathe. by ~sydneysays
this is all too much when i
half want to call and apologize and
half want to avoid you for tonight and
entirely want to throw myself into your arms and
not come out from the safety of your chest
[that cavity, where i can smell your skin
and hear your heartbeat when i
breathe you in-]
until all this has passed.
but i'm pretty sure you wouldn't want
any of those
from a messed-up, worn-out
ball of stress
like me.


tell me. so give me a way to describe this, my love.tell me. by ~sydneysays
the way our bodies fit in matching curves,
the way my fingers clutch and scrape your back,
the way your touch, your smile
steals all reason.
give me a way to describe the feeling i get-
the frustration of suddenly having so much emotion,
with the words i depend so heavily upon
stolen,
like my breath,
when our souls touch on the tips of tounges.
it's unfair,
and yet so beautiful.
to have everything i need before me
and no way to define it
in the longing, carefully-crafted language
i've always written my heart in.