[x]

gamble on me.hey boy,

i think you should know that you’re twisting my spine into knots and clogging up my arteries and the least you could do is give me a second of your time. i think you should give me a chance. you should know that you make my hands itch when you smile because i want to brush my thumb over your cheekbones. that my shoulders are trembling because i can imagine them resting against your chest, the idea of the warmth shotgunning straight to my nerves.

i think you should know you’re making a relatively sane girl misplace her mind.

and i know you’re so much more than you’ll ever imagine, that you are making me tangle w

this one's for you.because you are keeping my legs from folding.

because when i am tired, i am leaning on you, when i am sad, i am crawling into your comfort. because you are hooking my lips and pulling them into a smile, building a fire in the belly of my soul and warming me from the inside out.

because when i am lost, you are pointing in the right direction, when i am shaking, you’re holding my hand and whispering it will be alright.

and because when i’m incoherent you’re closing your eyes and saying my rambling sounds a little like a creek. because when i’m jumping from thought to thought without leaving a trail, you’re laughing a

it's not enough.i will never regret running into the freeway.

if i am gasping for air, pressing my palms against my chest, holding myself together, you will never find me wishing i hadn't done it. if i am sticking my fingers in my sides to staunch the bleeding, limping down gravel roads, barefoot and wild-eyed, you will only see me grimace and smile. tell you it was a hell of a ride. tell you when that car collided with my kneecaps, i tasted heaven in the wind yanked from my lungs.

and you won't ever find me lamenting jumping into the fire.

if i am smoldering and smoking, licking charcoal-lips and spitting out ash, you will never once hear me whispering i

sinning tongues still confess.[one] i just hope that you know that you are beautiful.
i hope when you’re looking into the mirror and are
bemoaning pale cheeks and angled eyes that you know
these are the things that make you the most breathtaking.
and when the ones you trust turn their backs, realize that
they are the ones lacking: not you. i hope you know that
you are intelligent and compassionate and all together
lovely. you are every single thing that every single person
should aspire to be.

[two] i wish you knew how i would fold at the knees like
faded denim if you weren’t there to hold me up. i wish
i had the words to tell you that you’re

this might be foolish.forty-nine hours ago: we were pressing fingers together through frosted windowpanes, laughing at our reflections and sticking out tongues through frost-bitten teeth. we were gently whispering through the snow to kiss the glass, the intimacy of our own breath steaming down our throats never able to take the place of what we imagine it’d be like to breathe each other’s carbon dioxide.

thirty-five hours ago: we were running down fields clutching dandelions between our fingers, throwing our heads back to expose our neck to the whipping wind and trusting it not cut the slender expanse of it. we were tumbling down the grassy knolls and l

i'm breathing without lungs.don't apologize. i can't breathe. i collapsed on the stairs at a quarter to two and i haven't found my feet yet. please help me up. please push me down. i think i'm letting my lungs collapse. i think i just spit up saltwater. is the carpet staining? i need you to grab my hand. i need you to hold my lungs together. i need you. i need you.

is it night yet? i can't see the stars. i can't feel the wind. my skin is numb and my eyes are on fire and i'm sitting in the middle of a room without windows and i can't breathe. why aren't you listening? can't you hear me? i'm choking on regrets. i'm choking on my spine. i'm coughing up alcohol from last n

i'm choking.i am sitting with smoking nerves and
frayed circuit wires, everything i don't
know knotting together for me to choke
on.

if there is a door, i can't find it.
if there is an answer, i'm unaware.

instead i am falling to my knees and
crawling under the smoke, eyes watering
and knuckles bleeding. no closer to the end
than when i had begun.

if i had the courage, i'd crack open your ribs
and get the answer for myself. if i was brave,
i'd simply reach over and pinch the truth from
your tongue.

or i'd just tie my heart to the railroad tracks
and wait for you to save it. wait for you
to cradle it and whisper that the time for

can't you hear me?xx.

you are beautiful even if you can’t see it. you are flesh pulled-tight over needles-and-thread ribs and eyes fogged over with your latest drug. you are a drunk tongue and a loose smile, butterfly fingers thrumming on your thigh because you’re too medicated for them to not be doing something. you are waterlogged from drowning in your insecurities for so long, moth-eaten from rotting in the back of the closet of your addictions.

but you are beautiful. because under the fog you are flickering like a single firefly. because you’re just trying to hide his acidic criticism under your translucent skin. and i know you can open ch

it's not what you think.this is just a bruise, don’t you understand? i drank too many diet cokes too quickly, i stood up when i should have been lying down, i stared at the sun for too long. i ran too long with my lungs begging to collapse, i fell down the stairs and swallowed my kidney. i just tripped. it was just a mistake. it’s not what you think it is.

and this, this is just heart burn, don’t worry yourself over it. i swallowed too many peppers without a glass of milk to coat my throat, i let the knife slip when i was cutting up the apple. i bit my tongue when i was running to catch the bus, i stayed under the bathwater too long until i was blue-

i'm sorry.i am sorry if i am not what you expected.

i am sorry if i am not slender or cunning or sticking to the schedule or falling into the precision of appointments and the rules of poetry. i am sorry if i am wringing my fingers dry and running out of paper and bleeding ink through my eyelids. i am sorry if i am butchering words and stitching their bleeding pieces into something i can lie and call beautiful. i am sorry that i can’t stick to your grammar, your syntax, your expectations, your rules. i am sorry, i tried.

i can’t help that i am running barefoot through the grocery store because i forgot my shoes or that i am driving through

can't wait forever.because, boy, you know i’m looking for you, but i’m not sure i’ll ever find you.

i’m spending my days watching the different eyes that go by but they all have the wrong angle or the wrong shape or they’re a little too gray instead of the blue that i know you’ll have. there are too many creases where they’ve frowned too many times and are a touch too red from too much alcohol when i know you’ll have at least some idea of moderation. they’re all wrong because they’re not yours.

and i’m spending my nights listening to the different laughs riding the airwaves but they’re all the wrong

look, she's crying over him.five years ago--
we were all elbows and sheltered self-esteems. we weren’t noticing each other except for bumping knees and walking into each other when walking around corners. we were nameless faces in the middle of the dance floor and hesitant hands touching. i was teaching you how to move gawky feet and a stiff spine, you were hitched-laughter fogging over my ear. we were wide eyes and gangly legs and fast music. we were bubble-gum-breath and coca-cola-fingers, breaking apart like nervous colts at the end of the song.

and all the parents said: ‘look, how sweet, she’s his first dance.’

two years ago--
we were all che

and when i live.i am sleeping in the middle of wheat fields.

i am curled into the soil with the sun filtering through my eyelids and the warmth of the earth pressed against my hip. i am holding my stomach with gentle hands, lips parted to breathe in the sweet air. i am dreaming of feathers running down my spine and of blowing bubbles while running down sloping hills. i am dreaming of kisses at dawn and hands cradling my cheek and laughing over coffee with my best friend.

and when i wake, i am tranquil and serene and peaceful.
and when i wake, i am alive.

+

i am swimming in the belly of the ocean.

i am twisting in the clever hands of her currents, my h

i can't see the sky.i hate the word lonely.

it dries out my mouth like i had tried to swallow tumbleweeds, it scratches the back of my throat like i'm trying to regurgitate memories from an empty stomach. it leaves me sitting in the middle of an empty room and wishing the ceiling would cave in because then at least i'd be able to watch the stars.

instead i'm just laying on top of the covers pretending to count them in the drywall and imagining what it would feel like to have your arm behind the curve in my neck. instead i'm closing my eyes and listening to the suction in my veins because i am hollow and caving in. i keep painting you with rich, lush adjectives

catch me if you can.i can’t help myself.

i can’t help that i live with the wind wound around my teeth and my lungs on fire. i can’t help that i don’t know the meaning of fractions and instead give only in wholes, never brushing cold water with a toe but closing my eyes and diving into the deep end. if i knew how, i would practice restraint. if i thought i could, i would exercise caution on a daily basis so that i might protect myself from the dangers i invite freely into my heart.

but i was born without that skill. i am instead throwing my foot to the ground and letting the car fishtail around the turns, breathing in whiskey-laced speed bec

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Gone.It is finding yourself in a single teardrop.
You’re completely hollow, each sob echoing like the cathedral bells. You’ve felt so much, oceans of emotion, smiles and nervous twists of hand and now you find that you are wrung dry. There is nothing left to give, nothing more but words and tears, coming together so that even your sorrow reads salty.
It’s a bitter feeling to look at the city with the lights turned out.
You wish and hope and dream and remember, but it’s empty, it’s futile, it’s nothing more than sand in the wind. And you remember a time when you had been the tide’s moon, the rope that caught

Bittersweet Promise.It’s dusk, it’s beautiful.
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I Want A Love Like That.I want a love like that.
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One so beautiful that summer bouquets steal to glow as vibrantly.
I want to find myself in another’s heart; I want to feel the spark of stars when we kiss.
I want a love that spears deeper than the oceans, beyond the coral and seaweed.
A love so hot that even magma chills.
I want a love that is sung about, painted about; one that inspires the most beautiful of dances.
I want a love that molds the very shape of the constellations so that the universe might capture the magic.
I want to fall without fearing, jump without trembling, fly without failin

Black-Magick Woman.She’s your black-magick woman.
(You’ve watched her collar the night, ride out the tide of each star-soaked evening. You’ve yearned.)
Hooded-eyes and arrogant curves, she is more potent than any whiskey you could ever pour. But you are addicted all the same, hooked by her relentless sorcery, drawn in to the curses painted on crimson lips, glossed with sin, tilted with a fearless lack of inhibition.
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(She is the mistress, your Circe, and you crawl to her feet, steeping in her rich reckless nature.)
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I'm Not Dying.I’ve got a heart that refuses to stop the beat, a stubborn tenacity that pushes on through tears. Strength, perhaps, but I know it’s really just my inability to change. My heart doesn’t know any other way to go on rather than just living, and I simply have to be dragged behind.
Through change, through pain, through aching moments. I’ve got a heart that keeps pulling me on, pulling me up, pushing me forward.
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Wild Horses.She’s standing by the dance floor. All alone: the kiss of death.
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---

The room is quiet.
Nothing but the rain on the windows and the sound of her heartbeat as she types.
Pouring it out. Forgetting everything about sunset-smiles and drawn out kisses.
He was gone anyways.
Then again, so was she.

---

A beep.
A message, a notice, his name. She

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[x]

when i say it isn't personal.

by =corina90, Oct 2, 2009, 11:08:11 PM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / Philosophy & Perspectives

and if it’s cold in the middle of the night, you can trust me to burn the building down.

if the walls are too tall and the secrets too thick. if you can’t breathe past the black souls twisted around ash-lungs then follow me. trust me to start a riot. because we are more than they can handle, because we are smoldering indecently, we are young and heroic and flawed and angry. because we are bleeding hands tearing down doors, we are throwing fists against impassive chests.

we are feeling too much while they aren’t feeling enough.
and you better believe me: we’re going to revolt.

and if they try to stop us, we will hurdle their pathetic attempts at blockades. if they try to put us in a box, we’ll stick dynamite in their teeth and blow off the fucking roof. because we are unstoppable, untameable, uncontrollable. we are wildfires and tsunamis and twisters ripping through small town america.

we are clawing down cliff walls and demolishing forests. we are the revolution, we are the uprising. we are punching fists in the air and throwing rebel yells over the airwaves. we are everything, we are hate and love and pride and we know at the end of the day that we are right.

and we know when they close their eyes at night that they fear us for our hearts.
they fear us because they cannot understand us. they fear us because they cannot predict us.
they hate us because they cannot be us.

when i say it isn't personal.by =corina90

Literature / Prose / Fiction / Philosophy & Perspectives

©2009-2013 =corina90

_{{"what you wanted couldn't hold us down
what we needed turned it's back so
outloud, we're telling your secrets
outloud, to the lovers and fees
outloud, cause you never experienced
this is the side of us nobody sees"
--sugarcult

full title: when i say it isn't personal, i'm lying

i'm in a slightly rebellious mood :]
[and for the record: i didn't write this with the theft in mind.
but i won't let the theft keep me from posting.]}

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~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~Nitsuj-Poy Feb 22, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

wow! I love this. Rise up, rebel spirits.
Free Slenderman! (X)
We are the faceless, seeking identity.

Reply

~Serafinathejackash Jan 13, 2011

your pieces are inspiring. You could say you are my poetry idol. All of your pieces hit home, and strike deeply. Truly, you are gifted.

Reply

!MidnightsMoon1126 Aug 16, 2010

Epic, I love this!

Reply

!De-Bu-Angel May 14, 2010

Brilliant.

Reply

=corina90 May 14, 2010

Reply

~peridot-magelette Apr 23, 2010

I LOVE THE FIRST LINE. really.

Reply

=corina90 Apr 23, 2010

Reply

~peridot-magelette Apr 24, 2010

Reply

Mood: Wow!

~alira23 Apr 1, 2010

I have to go look up more Sugarcult now. Your writing is always so amazing, y'know?

Reply

=corina90 Apr 4, 2010

you have to, they're fantastic

[and thank you]

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