Submissions by LauraD
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Mar 2010 2:50am
13th Mar 2010 2:50am
We
We're running out of things to say,
and objects to throw;
We can see in each others eyes that neither care,
and smell our bullshit in the air;
We hate each other,
and yet we stay;
Neither wanting to be alone,
nor willing to give in;
Its an everyday thing,
with no hope that we'll change.
and objects to throw;
We can see in each others eyes that neither care,
and smell our bullshit in the air;
We hate each other,
and yet we stay;
Neither wanting to be alone,
nor willing to give in;
Its an everyday thing,
with no hope that we'll change.
837 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Mar 2010 2:46am
13th Mar 2010 2:46am
_________Blank
I cant remember when it began,
the fights and namecalling that is;
It seemed to just happen,
and we couldnt control it;
Spilling out of our mouths like acid,
we tore each other up inside;
No apologies like I'm sorry,
only glares and aggravated sighs;
When did it all begin,
I cant remember.
the fights and namecalling that is;
It seemed to just happen,
and we couldnt control it;
Spilling out of our mouths like acid,
we tore each other up inside;
No apologies like I'm sorry,
only glares and aggravated sighs;
When did it all begin,
I cant remember.
757 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
22nd Feb 2010 6:58am
22nd Feb 2010 6:58am
I want
I seem to be empty,
and in some ways angry;
What did I do to you,
What was your issue;
I tried so hard to understand,
What I did to deserve your backhand;
I tried my hardest to make you happy,
even while I was bloody;
Nothing changed your temper,
while you backed me into a corner;
I'd scream, yell and beg,
while you laughed, spit and hit;
Now I find myself angry,
and looking for an I'm sorry
and in some ways angry;
What did I do to you,
What was your issue;
I tried so hard to understand,
What I did to deserve your backhand;
I tried my hardest to make you happy,
even while I was bloody;
Nothing changed your temper,
while you backed me into a corner;
I'd scream, yell and beg,
while you laughed, spit and hit;
Now I find myself angry,
and looking for an I'm sorry
953 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Feb 2010 6:53am
22nd Feb 2010 6:53am
I wonder
I can see it in your eyes,
that you see the light;
One day I'll awake to find you gone;
Nothing left but an empty hospice bed;
I try so hard to shed a tear,
but nothing ever falls;
The smell of your perfume is all I have left,
but that like you is fading fast;
I wonder if I'll miss you more when you've passed away,
than all the years I did when you were still here.
that you see the light;
One day I'll awake to find you gone;
Nothing left but an empty hospice bed;
I try so hard to shed a tear,
but nothing ever falls;
The smell of your perfume is all I have left,
but that like you is fading fast;
I wonder if I'll miss you more when you've passed away,
than all the years I did when you were still here.
681 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
21st Feb 2010 3:09am
21st Feb 2010 3:09am
In the waiting room, I wait
Its cold outside,
and everything has begun to die;
There I sit by her bedside,
still being denied;
Even near death,
she cant put down her presciption meth;
I beg for her to listen to me,
and open her eyes to see;
Not even now will she say those words,
only making it harder for me to move forward;
I want so badly to hear I'm sorry,
but it just isnt that easy;
Waiting for her to die,
so I can finally let out that long awaited sigh;
until then,
here I am;
in this waiting room,
waiting.
and everything has begun to die;
There I sit by her bedside,
still being denied;
Even near death,
she cant put down her presciption meth;
I beg for her to listen to me,
and open her eyes to see;
Not even now will she say those words,
only making it harder for me to move forward;
I want so badly to hear I'm sorry,
but it just isnt that easy;
Waiting for her to die,
so I can finally let out that long awaited sigh;
until then,
here I am;
in this waiting room,
waiting.
753 reads
0 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
3rd Feb 2010 7:14am
3rd Feb 2010 7:14am
prescribed
i put the glass to my mouth,
and the vodka slivers down my throat;
my own self-medication,
but its not working well enough;
I try hide the sadness by just having one more,
but i always have one too many;
by the end of the night im stumbling out the door,
and always looking to score;
just a little bit more,
of my own self-medication
and the vodka slivers down my throat;
my own self-medication,
but its not working well enough;
I try hide the sadness by just having one more,
but i always have one too many;
by the end of the night im stumbling out the door,
and always looking to score;
just a little bit more,
of my own self-medication
860 reads
4 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
3rd Feb 2010 7:09am
3rd Feb 2010 7:09am
The Bathroom
the room has begun to fill with smoke,
both marijuana and ciggarettes;
There we sit scattered among his bed,
all lost in our heads;
going on about our futures,
when we know we're going nowhere;
except for the bathroom,
to take another hit.
both marijuana and ciggarettes;
There we sit scattered among his bed,
all lost in our heads;
going on about our futures,
when we know we're going nowhere;
except for the bathroom,
to take another hit.
901 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Jan 2010 2:18am
29th Jan 2010 2:18am
Through Green Colored Glass
the ashtray is overflowing with ciggartte buds,
and millions of stems and seeds;
it remains there on my table,
still untouched as you can see;
i cannot bear to throw them away,
though i know i must;
i pick it up and tip it over,
just to start again.
and millions of stems and seeds;
it remains there on my table,
still untouched as you can see;
i cannot bear to throw them away,
though i know i must;
i pick it up and tip it over,
just to start again.
553 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
29th Jan 2010 2:08am
29th Jan 2010 2:08am
the box
i put the last picture of us in your own little box,
and tuck it into my bookshelf to collect dust;
the moments are clouded with stale ciggarette smoke,
but i can still hear your voice clearly;
"the time has come,
to say our goodbyes."
and tuck it into my bookshelf to collect dust;
the moments are clouded with stale ciggarette smoke,
but i can still hear your voice clearly;
"the time has come,
to say our goodbyes."
761 reads
2 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
27th Jan 2010 11:17pm
27th Jan 2010 11:17pm
Hysterics
im laying on the floor,
curled up in a ball;
my throat is sore from all the crying,
and my eyes are dried and swollen;
im no good like this,
but i cant stand up;
my feet are shaking,
and my palms are sweaty;
im scattered across the bathroom floor in tiny little pieces,
and i cant seem to put myself back together;
the minutes tick by,
and i say to myself;
"just until the storm passes."
curled up in a ball;
my throat is sore from all the crying,
and my eyes are dried and swollen;
im no good like this,
but i cant stand up;
my feet are shaking,
and my palms are sweaty;
im scattered across the bathroom floor in tiny little pieces,
and i cant seem to put myself back together;
the minutes tick by,
and i say to myself;
"just until the storm passes."
804 reads
3 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
27th Jan 2010 11:10pm
27th Jan 2010 11:10pm
Reefer Influence
with my finger on the carb,
i take in a deep breath;
it expands my mind,
and washes over me with the colors of creativity;
i become one with the universe,
and step outside the box of normality
i take in a deep breath;
it expands my mind,
and washes over me with the colors of creativity;
i become one with the universe,
and step outside the box of normality
1225 reads
1 Comment
DARK POEM
Published
27th Jan 2010 5:23am
27th Jan 2010 5:23am
bruises
i lie in his bed,
still awake in the middle of the night;
with him sleeping on the other side,
the stench of alcohol leaking from his pours;
i lie huddled in a corner,
hoping the sun doesnt rise;
i have no strength to stand on my own,
and face a new day;
i can feel a cold, wet substance sucreeding from my eyes,
and running down my broken and sore cheeks;
i keep hearing every word on repeat,
and seeing flashes of our fists being thrown at one another;
its not the bruises on my face that i will always feel,
its the bruises internally that wont...
still awake in the middle of the night;
with him sleeping on the other side,
the stench of alcohol leaking from his pours;
i lie huddled in a corner,
hoping the sun doesnt rise;
i have no strength to stand on my own,
and face a new day;
i can feel a cold, wet substance sucreeding from my eyes,
and running down my broken and sore cheeks;
i keep hearing every word on repeat,
and seeing flashes of our fists being thrown at one another;
its not the bruises on my face that i will always feel,
its the bruises internally that wont...
1395 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by LauraD
