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truth flavoured lies_cthe lie about me:
i am beautiful like freshly-cut grass and popsicles in the middle of the day. i am summer-lips and winter-teeth, laughing my way through autumn-leaves. i am branding laughter against the back of my throat so i can feel it with every breath i draw in, soaking in your words as i stick them under my tongue and save them for a while. i am living for the moment and dancing without caring who’s watching. i am loving recklessly and throwing my heart into the wind with wild abandon. i am calling each scar a beauty mark and opening my arms wide to catch the wind. you are calling me ‘love’ and i am answering.

the trut
i know i'm reckless.i know it’s not easy loving a tumbleweed of a woman.
[but you’re still hot on my trail when the rebel stars shine.]
i know your fingers sting from snagging them on wild-rose-thorns.
[but you’re still holding my hand and ignoring the trickling blood.]
i know it bruises when you get tangled in barbed-wire-smiles.
[but you’re still kissing my lips and calling me beautiful.]
i know you get tired chasing my vagabond-heart.
[but you aren’t trying to hobble my nomad-feet.]
i know you blame yourself when i crackle and explode.
[but you aren’t letting me see you cry when you piece me back together.]
and i know
confessions of lostwithoutyou.i'm not a liar. but i never told you that you always looked best in black. i liked how your skin would fade to a paler shade of perfection and your perfect teeth would glint a little brighter. and i could pretend for an evening that you were my black and white dream come true. and with you there would be no shades of inbetweens and no grays for us to get lost. i never told you but it's true.



+

i was never able to tell you, but i hate the way you cook your 'specialty' eggs. you always laughed over your shoulder and told me that they are the best food i’ll ever eat, that i was blessed to get the chance to taste them melting
if i'm not living with youmy eyelashes are tied into knots and my lips are stapled together. i’m laying in the middle of the floor and i’m realizing that my hips are disintegrating from lack of use. my knees are knocking together and melting, my shoulder blades are flying towards one another but never touching. and my throat is simply rusting over from all the sea air i’ve been gulping trying to keep my lungs from suicide jumping.

{i cannot live without you, my body can’t stand the abuse of neglect}

my eyes are turning to salt and dissolving down my cheeks, burning the cracks in my chapped lips, leaving white traces along my jaw. my hair is snarl
if you keep getting under.i saw you today and said ‘hey’
but what i meant was:

‘holyhell, you’re beautiful. you look like sunshine trapped in mason jars and fireflies stuck in moonbeams. you have a smile that punches straight to the spinal cord, did you know that? i just spent the last five seconds rebooting my heart, training my lungs how to breathe again. exhale, inhale. it should be simple but you’ve snarled it all in a giant mess. i’m unwinding the ball of yarn into a straight jacket and you’re as unaffected as the sea. i’d say i’m a boat but i’m hardly as sturdy. i’m a feather. it’s almost funny how li
pretty words, dead flowers_ci want a boy that makes me weak in the elbows.

i want him to drive a red camaro and put pens behind his ear because he’s scared he’ll think of something he needs to say when there’s no one around. i want him to never hesitate to hug me from behind or throw me over his shoulder and spin me until i swallow my spine. i want him to mess up my hair and pinch my cheek and then kiss me until my teeth are shaking and my nerves are smoking. i don’t know where he is yet, but i know i’ll find him.

-

well, i won't make you weak in the elbows, but i can make you weak in your ribcage; i can tame the struggling butterflies and te
hearts are for rebuilding_ci.
when i remember you, i remember the way you laughed when i mixed up teaspoons and tablespoons.

i remember the way you refused to eat the cake because you said it was too salty and the way i stood crying over the sink when i shoved it down the disposal. i remember how you left me standing in the middle of the floured, sugared, baked-on-mess kitchen to finish the tivo-game, patting me on the back and saying ‘nice try.’

it was when i was wiping my tears with the back of my hand that i best remember holding my heart close, telling it ‘nice try.’ maybe next time we’d fall in love with someone who saw us when they loo
we're chasing sounds_cdear derek,

you are beautiful in the way of parked cars with frosted windows and statues with moss trailing up the leg. you are fascinating but unattainable, with blank-shot eyes and lips that are made to smile but never do. like having a monet turned towards the wall. i think if you’d let me i could tug those lips up in the corner, i could warm you from the inside out, i could chip away the ice and turn you belly-side up in the sunlight. i think about it when you’re rubbing your hard-angled cheeks or staring at the clock like it means something more than the warm-flesh bodies around you. i don’t expect you to let me, but i
let's run away.let’s get out of town. let’s steal the neighbors truck and drive it into the ocean. let’s melt along desert highways and freeze on mountain ranges. let’s fill our lungs with saltwater and wring out our hearts in sundried wind.

trust me, my bags are already packed. i need to sit in the passenger seat with my feet hanging out the window. i need to hold your hand and let the distance fade our problems like a school-yard-eraser. because in that truck cab, there can’t be anything but us. there won’t be room for our insecurities or mistakes or flaws or regrets. there will just be us.

and that’ll be enough. we
we're a high-stakes gamble.you’ve taken my heart out of my chest and are rolling it like dice. i’m white-knuckled and brazen-smiled
when you look over and tell me that i’m a wild card, a risk only a fool would take.

[this is when you tell me that you’ll see my pride and raise me your independence]

.

and when i find my breath buried under your whiskey-and-coke, i take your lies and fan out the
deck, tell you to ante up because i’m sick and tired of waiting on you to make your decisions.

[this is when i tell you that i’ll see your selfishness and raise you my ego.]

.

we break hearts on the first hand. you drown my smoke-eyes in a v
losing myself.it’s the morning and i’m lying on my bed.

i’m listening to the sun raining through my window, the birds chirping, the sound of me losing my feet and finding my dreamer’s bone.

my pillow smells like you, like lust, like finding something worth dreaming about.

in a few minutes i’ll get up, pour myself a cup of coffee, dance in socks around the kitchen, take this new feeling blossoming in my chest and hold it tight.

but for now, i’ll smile, kiss you awake, trace the angles of your chest. but for now, i’ll bask in you.

+

it’s the afternoon and i’m sitting at my desk.

i’m staring at a blank
try to understand.“so, i guess that’s that.”

“i guess it is.”

“i want you to know that i’m going to think about you. every night.”

“i imagine i’ll think about you too.”

“i’ll probably cry in my pillow when our song comes on my shuffle and i’ll dig up that picture i buried in the back of my closet when i threw away the rest.”

“why will you keep it?”

“because we look happy and somewhere down the road i’ll be happier for having kept it. not at first, because at first it’s going to sting like hell. which is why i’ll bury it. but in the middle of the night
you eBayed your soul.you’re looking to me to find all your answers and i’m running out of words to feed you.

you’re starving and clawing at your throat and damn it, can’t you see that i’m already picking apart regurgitated advice to try and meet your needy demands? you don’t seem to care. you don’t seem to care that i’m needling together your next excuse in your self-abuse-sweatshop while you faint in air-conditioned-patios. you don’t seem to care that you’re wrapping yourself in my afghan-rug-warmth and leaving me rubbing moth-eaten-hands together to try and spark a flame.

and to be honest, i am selfish and gre
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-
paper bridges_cdear jamie,


i’m looking out my window and watching the world come down in icy slivers and it’s making me think of that time when we ran down the road with nothing on but our swimsuits and laughter. we used to share everything. our clothes, our make-up, our books, our stories, our weaknesses, our time. now we just share memories and folded paper. but don’t worry, four years and we’ll be back on the same street and these letters will bridge the gap that distance tried to carve. we’re stronger than that. 



oh, i almost forgot to tell you! this morning i saw a guy that looked just like that ac
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More from =corina90

secondhand inspiration.i am more than a girl with dirty hair and burned fingertips.

i am more than the insecurities that pile up and fog my mirror, and more than the cowardice i write about so lovingly on my fractured clavicle. i am not just this freckled skin and i am not these cramping feet that twitch under mahogany desks. i am not the girl that sits in the corner and allows the world to draw a box around me, and i am not the girl to sit and allow the world to thieve my words and plant them in their own private gardens.

i have my poems in a headlock and i am holding them under water until they breathe inspiration again. i am chasing down shadows and demanding
loosely applied.it is finding yourself in the miles that stretch between yourself and the end of time. it is in the spitting up of blood at three in the morning, spelling out their name and passing out in the gore. it is  in trying to find beauty in the uglies that follow you from shadow to shadow, their claws reaching out to swipe against the curve of your back, the width of your shoulders, the dip near your waist. you are breathing, but the term is loosely applied and it would be more proper to calling it gasping.

you are gasping. you are waking up without air and desperately wishing that you had it. you are waking up and touching the cold bed sheets and
pesticide dreams.i have a disease spreading like tar through my veins until i'm running in slow motion and my heart is overexerted and my lungs are swelling like a child's balloons at a summer fair. i am screaming with my nails biting into the bloodied roots of my hair, and i am dancing in the middle of the ballroom floor, and i am swimming up to the end of the ozone, searching for the rips in the fabric of reality holding this insanity together.

my palms are quaking like fault lines, and when he holds them they quell for a moment, but only a breath's time. i am an aged alcohol and i am trembling in the corner with abandoned violins growing dust in its case.
the rationality of love.what keeps us together is what really
should drive us apart
like graphing the incline of
the aches of your heart; like hammerhead sharks
chewing on a pale,
freckled limb; like cutting your
boyfriend's brake lines, then watching him drive off
on naught but a whim;
like slicing up an orange
with the side of a dull, shattered fork; like
rationalizing
an argument in latin
with a stork; like diving in an ocean
just to test your lungs;
like spitting out your teeth and
swallowing tongues; like breaking off your bones
and clenching your jaw;
like freezing off your eyes, and
waiting for the thaw; like bending your thumb
just
find me in the hidden life.i have this feeling in my bones that some call weakness and other call fire.

it's a driving need and a crippling desire, and it wakes me in the middle of the night with cramping calves and feet running among cotton though they reach nothing but the great beyond of the side of the bed. it's a burning that pushes me into the middle of rainstorms to dance among the cracking weather kissing the earth, and it's a spark lit under the gasoline pooled under my heart. some call me crazy and others call me sane, but if you look for me in the heart of winter, you will often find me curled under the dead oak touching the bark because i like the way life

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you've stolen my health.

:iconcorina90:

you’ve spent the last few months winding yourself in neat bows around my tongue. so that when you smile i find it snarled and tangled behind my teeth, twisting inexplicitly against the roof of my mouth. i find it hobbled and tripping, the words coming out in odd jerks and stumbling phrases.

i have always been articulate but when your mouth twitches into that crooked grin, i find that you have stolen my tongue and left me mute and wide-eyed in your wake.

+

and you’ve done an excellent job of lodging yourself in the air bubbles of my joints. so that when you touch the small of my back, i find my knees giving out and my arms going limp, trembling as the nerves smoke and overheat to leave my circuits fried and sparking. i find my limbs turning to sand so that i have to lean against a wall to keep from dissolving and running through your hands to pile at your feet.

i have always been athletic but when your skin becomes a livewire against mine, i find that you have stolen my muscles and left me paralyzed and greedy in your wake.

+

and you’ve managed quite well to worm yourself into the not-so-empty crannies of my heart. so that when you show up with a bouquet of sunbeams haloing your face, i find it constricting and exploding, reconstructing to your pulse’s rhythmic pattern. i find it swelling and blistering, growing stronger as it swims against the heat of your tides, slowly able to handle the marathon of catching and running with you.  

because you see, i have always been independent but when you breathe the same air, i find that you have stolen my heart and left me dry-veined and hungry in your wake.
:iconcorina90:
{"once i thought that love was something i could never do
never knew that i could feel this much
but this yearning in the deep part of my heart for you
is more than a reaction to your touch
it's a perfect passion and i can't get enough"
--brooks and dunn

full title: you've stolen my health but i can't say i mind

because i'd, i'd, i'd give you my heart if it meant i could keep yours.
to be honest, it's not doing that much for me right now anyways.
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:iconmekamouse:
~MekaMouse Apr 12, 2010  Student Writer
I love who you show him as inside you.
Taking things that really shouldn't leave you...
Reply
:iconcorina90:
=corina90 Apr 12, 2010
:heart:!
Reply
:iconmekamouse:
~MekaMouse Apr 13, 2010  Student Writer
oops I meant *how* in that first sentence...
:hug:
Reply
:iconiheldyoucloser:
~iheldyoucloser Oct 13, 2009
"and you’ve done an excellent job of lodging yourself in the air bubbles of my joints. so that when you touch the small of my back, i find my knees giving out and my arms going limp, trembling as the nerves smoke and overheat to leave my circuits fried and sparking. i find my limbs turning to sand so that i have to lean against a wall to keep from dissolving and running through your hands to pile at your feet."

i love your words.
so much.
Reply
:iconcorina90:
=corina90 Oct 13, 2009
thank you soso much.
Reply
:iconannatubby:
~annatubby Sep 11, 2009  Hobbyist Writer
Wow...this is as amazing as always!
Reply
:iconcorina90:
=corina90 Sep 12, 2009
:heart::heart: thank you so much!
Reply
:iconflawedfairytale:
~flawedfairytale Sep 11, 2009  Student Writer
Bittersweet loveliness.
I adore the time I have to spend reading over my watched deviations. :heart:
Reply
:iconcorina90:
=corina90 Sep 11, 2009
:heart: thank you, love. so much.
Reply
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