a interracial relationship (puerto rican girl and black man) both work at a jazz house. They meet eachother behind a library and soon enter a relationship. They soon start working together with the lady as a bartender in a jazz club and the man playing the trombone in said jazz club. They encounter many different many oops while trying to run their business including gang rivalries, drama between eachother's family and a overall uncaring world.
i see her in polaroid pictures
a fleeting smile attached to a messy bun and the smell of cigarettes
the girl in the corner of a jazz house
when the tables are being cleaned and the chairs put away
she is still there, writing away her worries and waiting for better days
She is the one i love
she is the one who loves me
she is not one to be tied down
She promises to marry me if i can find a ring with as many diamonds in the band as i see galaxies in her eyes
i fear i will never marry the artist
for she is the one whos spontaneity could rupture worlds
and no mere mortal should be able to hold my artist down
you are a weeping willow in a garden that the universe has forgotten about
my tears water the ground like the rain
breeding and festering small bulbs of my guilt and hate for myself and the world
My plants grow from my love, but my humans grow from my disgust
I feel nothing besides the numbing feeling of fertilizer when it covers my body or the hard head rushing feeling of a little girl picking me as her next victim.
Plants are my only friends, and that can be written in the trees
When a woman looks at you, you feel galaxies explode and begin their creation, all at the same time, but only in the small fist of a muscle that is your heart.
My lips are broken from the rough kisses and the lip bites that are screamed between us.
I cannot tell anyone for fear of being chastised for my love
Loving a woman is the hardest thing to do though
The love that makes me trips on my own feet and run into random walls
When you saw me
When you smiled
I fell for you and over your feet
You smiled and laughed at the train wreck that you made me
They are such wonderful creatures that were created for humanity.
I cannot wait to be one myself one day
maybe make someone trip over themselves over me
I see the soldiers and yet, freedom is not a lover I have held in many nights.
He is an alluring archetype of all my desires
He is the peace of mind I wish to have at night.
When my skin turns to ragged pieces of cloth that used to ring peace
She is the one who carries me to a bed filled with corruption but to only whisper "This is the land of opportunity"
My body is a temple, but one long forgotten by the immigrants that built me
He holds my trembling body to see the scars of the tags that were placed upon me as a child.
Peeling back my skin, but to no avail
To his family, I am still only a colored person who is not one of them.
Although I am what he says he wants, those who prosper in his love are always those of fair skin.
I am not the one...
The moons of Asing gleamed in the dark night, the woods of my village seemed scary and evil….to some. I found the forest relaxing and beautiful, the moon lit up the whole forest and it was the only place you could go where there were no social classes and there was no war. Nobody found the forest charming, I guess that might’ve been why no one found me charming or even friendly.
I ran away when I was about 18, I was young and a bit naive but I can’t say I'm sorry for running away. I grew up in the poor part of Asing with my mother and my three brothers. My mother was a seamstress and my brothers were warriors in a war my village could never win. My brothers were the ones who taught me how to fight and how to hunt so if they died in combat I could help my mother. I guess they knew...
The feeling is mutual
something said when usually in disgust
but we said it the most in love and then we ended
We both lived over hours away
we both need the warm embrace of another
and we could not find that through the hardness of the video camera
I smiled knowing you were happy
but we were both lonely
Now it's over, and I'm happy and so are you
I still love you
as a friend
but no matter
You were a song that I cannot sing to anymore
Our song has ended,
another is about to begin, and one day, our songs will become an album
A song of ice can be just as warm as fire if sung by the right person
may your trees touch the skies and take you to a better place
I find myself
Thinking of your touch
Never knowing if you are what I truly deserve, however being what I want
not even just want
no homo though
I find those words after every sentence
I love you
You're so beautiful
You are the one I want
You make me happy
No homo though
We are at a crossroads
You accepted for who you love
but not religion
I accepted for my religion
yet not the gender of the person I lay with at night
We are both from different places
You a Romanian Jewish Princess with her Whole Acting Career
A Puerto Rican Witch with a Tendency to Debate the Air
I love you no matter the color of your skin, no matter how many Mama Mia references you make, and no matter how long I have to wait for you, I will
because you are my melody
and my life is pretty boring without...
I can fuck up both of our lives so don't try too hard sweetheart
I am the one that your daddy tells you to stay away from
Yet I'm at the top of your recents
Depressing Childhood Sheets Blue
If you really loved me, maybe I could call this normal
Save me from the rainy day in my brain
I still don't know how we ended up in this shit hole
Our parents may have been dumb but that doesn't mean we are
I grow as slowly as a bonsai
yet you're still all over me like ivy
Light Pink Smoothies
You say that this is the end of us
But if we were the start
Why do we have to end our map here?
0 chances of survival.
1 reason left to live.
2 people have died in the past year because of ignorance.
3 opportunities for you to show me that you're better
4 hours is all the sleep I get when I think about you
5 people who can change that first sentence.
6 years ago is when we all met
7 days that I despise in a week
8 classes, you aren't in
9 more years till freedom from all my baggage
The thing that nourishes me
The one thing I still have
Is the ability to choose who I will become
Even though I came from squalor
A mixed family of Americans and Immigrants
I am able to choose what I will become
I may be constrained by expectations
but those can be broken with blood sweat and words
My own choices are what gives me life
Will I be average today?
Will I be better than I was yesterday?
Will I let the color of my skin define me
Will I defy the color of my skin
I am not a storm to be ignored
My choices are what makes the world go round
And I'm about to choose to go off with a bang
I remember when I was younger
I was happy then
I believed that I had a XY chromosome
instead of the XX I really had
Many will never know the pain of looking yourself in the mirror
hating everything you ever stood for
hating everything from how frizzy and curly your hair was and how your legs were always too lanky
Then I started going to counseling
Not for body dysmorphia
For a father who was never there
The person I needed
maybe to show me that men could be trusted
but no, he stole and showed me what the fire of a burning cross feels when on your forehead
The local love I received
like a flickering flame in the middle of a storm
I burned out
Make up your mind
Can't you just choose?
Can't you just be straight?
Can't you just be normal?
This year I found out it was due to the loved I received from...
Would you still be so kind to me if you knew what I really thought?
Would you still be so kind to me if I was uglier?
Would you still be so kind to me if I was prettier?
Would you still be so kind to me if I completely agree with you?
Would you still be so kind to me if my depression got worse?
Would you still be so kind to me if my food problems got worse?
Would you still be so kind to me if I feel nothing?
Would you still be so kind to me if I hated myself even more?
Would you still be so kind to me if I was dumber?
Would you still be so kind to me if you never really cared?
Would you still want to be my friend if you knew who I really was?
because I know for a fact
that if I was as amazing as you
Words can no longer fall from my lips
my mouth is stitched shut
I am scared shitless to open my mouth or my heart
Speaking is an art
To convey words to someone, means you are human
To be able to move someone to tears means you are powerful
To make others join you is a beauty of its own
I find myself awake at night, unable to put my thoughts into words
I try to scream
anyone to hear
Yet their ears seemed to be stuffed with the same thing my throat is
I cannot bear to be unheard anymore
for my own soul is the thing that is truly unheard
and with that, I fall silent, just as I have before so many times
*DONT READ IF FOOD DISORDERS TRIGGER YOU*
I remember the first time I was told to diet
I was at my doctor's office and I was considered overweight
I cried a lot after that
My mom told me I was beautiful no matter what
I naturally accepted the compliment for fear of her feeling as though my broken pieces were her problem
I cried less after that
I started dieting when I was 7
Not the best thing
I always saw myself as huge and ugly
But my family always said I was fine
My friends say they're worried
I eat less than 450 calories
"You'll die," they say "It's bad"
I ignore them as intensely as I diet
I am now a vegetarian who plays volleyball, hikes on a weekly basis, and I do color guard.
I do juice cleanses and I go days with no want to eat
I hate food now
but I'm trying to get better ...
When I find myself alone at night
The skies have dimmed to a cold and lonesome nightshade
The souls of those damned to be seated by God light the sky with radiance and beauty
I feel the cold of the outside seeping beneath my covers
Zephyrus sneaking into my bed after he killed his lover
Seeping the little warmth from my lonely world
I sit up and move to the mirror to see only weeds covering my body in a swath of iced leaves
I pull at the Pothos as it chokes me the few words I still have left are not even my own
The Roses climb around my thighs and stomach, thorns as piercing as her words
The Woods that were my legs were cut to fit others
Lined up to be put into our proper place
Never to reach over my own peers
I was lost
I was stolen
They say that I was supposed...
I find myself wondering if I'm the only one who has a crazy crush on certain things girls do
Top Ten things I'm crazy attracted to on girls (And 5 things for boys)
I don't want the truth when I'm facing myself in the mirror, because I'm scared the person who's looking back at me will pull me into my own head;
and nobody wants that
I remember when I was a small child
I grew up in a nonreligious household, but that was only because everyone close to me was heavily reliant on powder
So naturally, God never decided to shine his light on any of us
I was confused
or so I thought
I wondered why I always preferred the boy clothes
I felt more comfortable in t-shirts and shorts instead of the pretty pink dresses
I wanted to be a welder, just like my strong grandpa
My dad did not want me
Much less a girl
To him, I was weaker than his real son, Joseph,
The new godsent that was placed into his real wife's body
I then found out what a lesbian was
but I ignored that
I remember my first 'kiss'
I was in 6th grade
It was not forced, but it was a dare
I kissed his cheek instead
I gave him my number
He never called me back
Describing one's self is like trying to describe a book
You don't want it to seem so good, at the same time you want it to seem good enough to read
None believe their book is good enough
Anybody wanting one is crazy
People are crazy I guess
Everyone just wants their book to fit into the library of Alexandria
Waisting away eventually
never to be seen again
I'm now okay with that
I am a doll
Those who do not know me now will never truly know me
This is not to be emo
or fucking that shit
I hate being compared to being fake
I already am fake enough
Fake to my friends
Fake to my family
Fake to myself
I don't know who I am anymore
I feel like a faded picture of myself
Never seeing my real self again
I cannot even remember why I am here
I cannot even remember why I even write
I cannot even remember why I wanted to be here
I used to mean something
The shimmering galaxies of people are what reminded me of that
The little girl inside me wants to burst out
Smiling and bouncing around
I need to be convicted because I killed that little girl
She made me happy
and now she lies on the floor
Like the shiny doll, she was
always meant to be broken
Learning who you really are is the hardest thing I've ever done
I do not remember myself except in phases
Each a new version of myself that was never good enough
First, a shimmering and bouncy child
Secondly, a slightly depressed boy
Thirdly, a small child realizing they are a girl and loved girls
Fourth, a pre-teen who despised their body and everything about themselves
Fith, a teenager with greasy hair and no love life
Sixth, a person trying to get better
Seventh, a full witch
Eighth, a real girl trying to find love
Ninth, a relapse
Tenth, A woman who realizes that I am not perfect in any way, but I still have to try to be the best I can be
But only for myself.
Oh my God she's at it again
Pulling at my hair and my soul
I've never wanted anything more
It's late and I'm falling into the whimsical rabbit holes that are her eyes
I wish to be left behind if it means I can hear your melancholy voice tonight
I apologize for being a nobody to myself and to you
I, a peasant, gained the courage to talk to my own goddess
and you have smitten me
Although I know not if I truly care for your choking embrace
I know I wish to know your words and soul
I only wish for more of you
Maybe if we're lucky,
you may bless me with the ability to see beauty once again in this ravaged world
My past and present blurred together to where
I saw only black and white
until I saw you
bursts of color echoed through my days
as I waited to see you again the next class switch
Does anybody remember those skittle commercials where this guy would be standing somewhere and this girl would walk over then she'd pull one of the skittles off his face? then she'd eat one and they'd both get skittle pox?
I can confirm that's how people become gay out of personal experience
Has anybody ever really thought of immortality
The ability to change everything while you yourself are constantly in a metamorphosis of change
You lose everything
You see the times change from bad to good to worse
An endless cycle of gain and loss
Knowledge of the abyss
and loss of the reason you even wanted that knowledge
I would take immortality though
I value knowledge more than anything
And the more you know the more likely it would be for you to do time travel
By my own pain, I could stop others
I care for those who I don't even know more than myself
Immortality does not make you a god
The ability to be a god starts with what you do with your immortality
YouWhy are we given these gifts from God if nobody else cares?
I have tried my damnedest to get my name out there
but I end up never getting anything
This sounds awful, but when you have a 4.0 while your friend has a 2.5 yet she still does better than you in recognition
I'm so pissed
I've worked my ass off and all you have ever done was live in a life of luxury and relaxation
You had a dad, a healthy mother, a family who doesn't constantly try to make you be perfect.
You have a family who doesn't care that you're gay
IM SO SORRY THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND BROKE UP WITH YOU BECAUSE YOU COULDN"T "OPEN UP"
My girlfriend tried to kill herself after breaking up with me!
I can never see the person I love ever again!
and you get to see yours every day
I will never have peace to think I didn't cause her to try...
What if we are all really dead and our brains are just on constant loops of our memories
It would explain Deja Vu
And every time we get done with a loop, "God" just puts another loop in!
and your soulmates could just be someone sitting close to you who gets the same loop but from opposite perspective
I killed them myself. All of them...I didn’t even know some of them. I just followed instruction. I may have been a leader, but the Twins were the ones I followed. They controlled everything. They started all this and I am the one who helps pay with the blood of other creatures and people. If I had known my best friends were going to be the best and worst people in the world...I might’ve distanced myself a bit. That never happens though...it happens to the people who really can’t fight. Those who can’t fight have common sense...the Twins never had common sense though.
It all started with a cold day, I knelt down on the tall building I was perched atop and laid my arm across my knee to steady my pistol as I took aim at a woman’s head. I checked the picture in my pocket and studied the feathery top hat. The man who ordered her to be...
For the few people I follow, I really need some help. Right Now, I'm working on my first book and I''m trying to get it circulated so I will be publishing it. Please read it and leave me some comments!! it will help so much
It was a darkened night, we sat together and she held me closely: "Are you alright on your own?" I looked up to her as the moon aligned with her head, it created a glowing halo around my angels head.
"I don't know"
We sat there the whole night, If it was out of love of loneliness I'll never know: It's not a night I will forget either way.
I remember when we shared the fourth of July
Fireworks flew when I kissed you
I remember jumping up and down on your bed until we were panting and out of breath
We fell together onto the floor and laughed
The moon filled your room and illuminated your pale skin
Tonight, our sparks burned out when you said you didn't want that life
I hate seeing you like this
But it's better than torturing me, myself, and I
I miss her so much
Maybe If I was a better girlfriend, She wouldn't have done it
I miss her lips that immigrated from the American Dream and into my Puerto Rican beach
Her smile reminds me of stars that perfectly aligned to create her smile\
Her touch mimics that of a goddess who finally came to see hern people
God I love her
She was my life
And yet I still couldn't protect her
Can we get back together is what my heart screams,
hoping and praying that you could hear me
But my head says no
But my body shrivels away
But I cannot say that I don't love you
The this is
We can never be the same
We can never be aligned again
I cannot even sleep in the shirt you gave me because I know that I will just fall for you again
And I know that I cannot support us
And you need someone better than...
We were made for each other
Like the Heavens meeting the Earth
I would give up everything
You are what makes my world beauty and joy
Yet Zephyrus still loves you
He is the reason you died
The reason I find no beauty in anything besides the Earth in which you laid
He is the reason we are apart now
He is the reason you are dead
He is the reason I am alone
Hyacinthus my love, when you see me chase others, know I only think of you.
When I lay with Akakallis, Korykia, and Ourea, I think only of you
When I lay my head upon their laps to rest, I dream only of you
When I lay down from my last time, never to rise again, I will come only to you
We were meant to be gods
We were meant to be alive
We were meant to be together forever
Our nights are filled with smoke
It drips off the incense tray and fills my whole room with the essence of patchouli and rose
We both lie on the floor, high off our own joy and possibly the overflowing amount of smoke engulfing the whole room
Your legs lay over my own and our bodies gently caress the grass rugs that lay below my bed
The ring I gave you on Lief Erickson's day
It mimics the silver stars that shine brightly above in the heavens in which we rest our heads
We wake up to the Bright Days
The sun shining in our unclosed windows as my plants yearn to be let back into the sunny days
We pile in the car and drive to the nearest donation store
Laughing and playing in the back of my mom's huge truck as our favorite songs play
Holding on-Matthew Mole
Every day's the Weekend- Alex Lahey
Alone Together-Fall Out Boy
People say that I'm really tall for my age.
I was supposed to be great
I was the one who was supposed to relinquish my family form hatred and poverty that gripped my home
Now the only thing I really am is a tower of mistakes.
My foundations were built off the Catholic church, with bolts of self righteous people that made others seem dirty in the eyes of God.
The bricks made to build me up were snide remarks.
Finally I was topped with a banner of insecurities and illness, with a small hint of something that either resembled hope or
or maybe that was just another one of my mistakes.
Why does it take me breaking down infront of everyone just for you to see that I am in pain?
Seeing for the first time and my world is still ugly
Thank you for my 10 followers. I know that seems silly, but knowing people like my writing makes me want to become better.
Thank you all!
If I'm being honest.
I must debate my own self-worth.
I find myself lost between two people screaming at my brain.
Golly, it sucks to be a debate kid
Screaming at walls, hoping the speech may bounce off the wall and into my brain
Somehow re-enforcing the idea that I am enough
I need steel beams inserted into my head just to keep my eyes open during class
I saw a small white bird flying overhead my school. My school's walls are stone that reaches to the sky. Here you only catch glimpses of the sun and sky, you trade blurred pictures for test answers and extra credit. Nobody knows how the grass feels anymore. The only reason we touch trees is so we can learn more information to only regurgitate the answers onto more of their cousins.
I'm struck and stung by the bigoted thoughts flying around the room.
I'm so tired of having to breathe smog to just breathe.
Have fun on Earth
I repeatedly fall into washing shores of self-hate. My own oceans breaking away at my brittle shorelines. Feelings jump off my cliffs and then my thoughts soon follow their lovers.
My younger cousin once asked if we were alive if we couldn't feel anything
I said by our countries rules we are, no matter our internal ocean, we still have to come on the outside to build the Wall
Well then, you decide to text me back after I have thrown away the bear you gave me and my own heart
Now you decide I am important enough to love me again?
God am I that nieve?
Me: I'm fine
Them: That's good...Wanna go out today
3 hrs later
Them: Why? I want to see your beautiful face
Them: Please don't leave me again
Me: You left me
Them: Fine...I'll leave you alone...No matter how much you hate me... I still love you
Me: I love you too...but not enough to hurt myself again
Them: Then you're stupid
Me: Yes I am, for not blocking you.
-User was Blocked-
Listening to Vance Joy's song Georgia, you'd think that everything was perfect.
"Islands, innocent and wild"
Oh, Vance, we are anything but innocent and wild.
We were the youngest of the colonies
We owe half of our pride and history to those that were 'below" us
We have fire run through our veins from our capital to our bogs
We were the nicest and most properest people in our home town
We are "the South"
We are working ourselves out
Georgia isn't the only thing on our minds
I never thought that I wanted to be different, until I saw her. She shone with such possibility and beauty. Her skin brimmed with anticipation as new notes flowed from her brain to her lips and then to the producers pocket. She showed me that it was okay to love myself and cry at the same time. She is a bright star in our ever dimming galaxy. Gods shes amazing. I wish to have her level of confidence. Her will to song write is a force that only Apollo could overcome and even his Bravado could never compare to her love.
I have become enamored with a Australian songwriter, who will never know I was ever alive and I don't know what to do.
I see all these people looking for the satisfaction of someone liking their material.
You cannot box emotions
So why are we still trying to put our emotions in a
Box with a word count?
You love them, they love you.
You fight with them, they fight with you.
No matter what, the playing field is never too unbalanced.
Not until the entire table if flipped that is ;
My head now just sounds like a Dell startup and my body feels like the wifi router sound
My friend and I actually have a band named Rotting Roots.
I love botany
We both are from a very small town with people with very small minds.
It was an incredibly late night.
I was sad and we were jamming out.
Her sitting on my bed with her uke
And me on the floor with my guitar.
We decided that we were both beautiful...on the outside.
However, on the inside, we were both rotting and dying slowly.
I told her of my fern that had rotting roots.
That's how we decided in our name
We're still together
I still love her no matter what
We're going to travel together
We're going to be happy together
even with our shriveled and rotting roots
Since I was small, I knew I was different. My father raised me differently. Instead of skirts and flowy tops, I was made to wear baggy t-shirts and shorts. Instead of dolls, I got toy cars. My mother always told me that I was a girl, but even then I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. The worst part was my fascination with girls. Their hair, soft skin, and their personalities. Priceless. Honestly perfect and beautiful. That all changed when I met her when I met Ianthe. The first time I saw Ianthe, I could barely breathe. I knew I had to be a boy then. The clothes, the hair, the attraction to other “girls”. She didn’t help.
We met on the playground outside our high school. It was a cold afternoon in the fall. I wore blue overalls with a polaroid shirt crudely tucked into the top of the pants, my leather jacket with plenty...
I used to have this girl I was infatuated with. Soon my infatuation for this girl turned into liking and worse yet. love. She'd play with my heartstrings, plucking them like her cello. She made me love myself for the first time since I left the womb. She was the first one to show me that I was worth anything. She showed me I could do anything. I loved her, but she left me. Even today as I look at the setting sun of a chapter I can still read with bleary eyes. I'm left to wonder, did she really never love me either?
I walked into the small containment room full of Ketoian medical staff that were all attending to one person. I stared over the doctors' shoulders as they worked tirelessly on Bea who was suffering from radiation poisoning. Her blue hair was down and her breaths were ragged and quick, rashes were all over her chest and face. She was stupid for following the Twins and myself up to the surface. She isn’t even Ketoian. How much of an imbecile does one have to be to follow others to a radioactive wasteland?
She moved a little, a grunt slithering from her chapped lips. Fuji looked at me and shook his head. She was so badly injured and of course being a stupid Mercan she didn’t tell me. I sighed and ran my gloved fingers through my hair and Fuji walked over to me.
“Well…” He pulled his gloves off and smiled weakly. “ She will survive…but…”
“But?” I demanded sounding a...
I stood in the quiet of the cemetery that had only a few gravestones. An iron fest hung half fallen over and wilted flowers layover tombstones of Guardians long forgotten. I looked at the freshly planted gravestone at my foot. The gravestone next to it had ivy clambering up its rough surface, hopeful for any light. Tears welled in my eyes as I dug my toe into the freshly replaced dirt, the smell choking me slowly.
My son, Philip, walked up the hill, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He frowned as he walked over and hugged me. He looked exactly like his father...the black hair and eyes, the strong arms...so strong. Tears cascaded down my face as I felt my son's chest heaved. He tried to control himself. Octavian and Fuji had already left. It was just him and me.
“I wish all the Guardians had come...I think they hate me….”
“You knew them all, Mom?”