Submissions by NimmieAmee
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
the unfulfilled promise of you
I miss you gripped in my teeth
your hair in my hand
your wimpers your moans
your smile your laughter
it was only really once
but I've dreamed you endlessly since
you haunt me
like an aftertaste
of my favorite flavor
like a call to adventure
left unanswered
like standing at the edge of a cliff
like being seen
I clench my jaw and remember
how you felt as I bit down
remember the scent of you
the sound of you
remember how quickly the bruise faded
like sand through my fingers
your hair in my hand
your wimpers your moans
your smile your laughter
it was only really once
but I've dreamed you endlessly since
you haunt me
like an aftertaste
of my favorite flavor
like a call to adventure
left unanswered
like standing at the edge of a cliff
like being seen
I clench my jaw and remember
how you felt as I bit down
remember the scent of you
the sound of you
remember how quickly the bruise faded
like sand through my fingers
#regret
406 reads
2 Comments
Empty Windows
I'm simply a shadow
burned on the wall of my life
after the devastation you wrought,
a two-dimensional mockery
only vaguely person shaped
with no room for growth.
My body,
claimed in the destruction
which relegated me to observer,
frozen in that moment,
staring out from dull eyes
in the unanswerable question
of 'why?'.
You carved 'Good Girl'
into the wall next to my outline but
something this void and inhuman
can't be a girl.
burned on the wall of my life
after the devastation you wrought,
a two-dimensional mockery
only vaguely person shaped
with no room for growth.
My body,
claimed in the destruction
which relegated me to observer,
frozen in that moment,
staring out from dull eyes
in the unanswerable question
of 'why?'.
You carved 'Good Girl'
into the wall next to my outline but
something this void and inhuman
can't be a girl.
#childhood
#identity
#abuse
#monsters
#emptiness
636 reads
5 Comments
Vapor
You've taught me that
misery doesn't love company,
it loves neverending, silent sympathy;
a mother figure to coddle,
unconditional,
bottomless,
a hollow vessel
into which can be poured
all your seething hatred of life.
I'm not seen
through your tears,
disappearing
under the image of what you want and
into the fog of your depression.
misery doesn't love company,
it loves neverending, silent sympathy;
a mother figure to coddle,
unconditional,
bottomless,
a hollow vessel
into which can be poured
all your seething hatred of life.
I'm not seen
through your tears,
disappearing
under the image of what you want and
into the fog of your depression.
#depression
#frustration
#disappointment
639 reads
7 Comments
Sick and Cyclical
Time
leaks out my ears
dissolving
the memories in between
weeks,
days,
months,
years
fracturing and melting
into a referenceless kaleidoscope
of razerblade moments
leaks out my ears
dissolving
the memories in between
weeks,
days,
months,
years
fracturing and melting
into a referenceless kaleidoscope
of razerblade moments
#SelfHarm
#monsters
#shame
#memories
#frustration
603 reads
5 Comments
Soiled
Every day
I make myself over
from pieces of other people and
of my shattered past.
Who I am,
ever in flux,
changing on the whims of obsession
and fear of being left behind.
I would say
that
I've lost who I am but
the truth is
I never had a chance
to establish an identity
before it was
ripped
from me
along with my innocence.
I make myself over
from pieces of other people and
of my shattered past.
Who I am,
ever in flux,
changing on the whims of obsession
and fear of being left behind.
I would say
that
I've lost who I am but
the truth is
I never had a chance
to establish an identity
before it was
ripped
from me
along with my innocence.
#childhood
#identity
#abuse
#confusion
#emptiness
575 reads
4 Comments
Flagellation
I want to spill my poison onto you
so that, in your revulsion,
I'll be absolved.
so that, in your revulsion,
I'll be absolved.
#rejection
#secrets
#shame
579 reads
3 Comments
Paranoia or self-preservation
I slit myself open
and spill myself over you
misinterpreting
the mess you find yourself in.
This cluttered, stuttering stream
a measured tide
filtering and flattering
every vittle which passes my lips.
You've proven yourself an able swimmer
the flow increases
hints at an undertow
not yet dragging you away.
Yet others have drowned
or dashed for shore
when the floodgates have truly opened.
On occasion I've intentionally driven them there.
and spill myself over you
misinterpreting
the mess you find yourself in.
This cluttered, stuttering stream
a measured tide
filtering and flattering
every vittle which passes my lips.
You've proven yourself an able swimmer
the flow increases
hints at an undertow
not yet dragging you away.
Yet others have drowned
or dashed for shore
when the floodgates have truly opened.
On occasion I've intentionally driven them there.
#rejection
#secrets
#shame
636 reads
7 Comments
So you want to get in my pants
I once had a pair jeans which, every time I put them on
and felt them slide over my thighs,
felt like I was sheathing a weapon.
I don't know why, but they made me feel strong
and confident enough in my own strength to be unafraid
of where others' thoughts and hands may like to roam.
They made me feel powerful,
like I could crush all the fear and opposition
or like I could trust my own legs
to run and carry me away from it all.
But they were dark blue jeans in a faded fabric and pre-stressed denim world.
My jeans were a blank...
and felt them slide over my thighs,
felt like I was sheathing a weapon.
I don't know why, but they made me feel strong
and confident enough in my own strength to be unafraid
of where others' thoughts and hands may like to roam.
They made me feel powerful,
like I could crush all the fear and opposition
or like I could trust my own legs
to run and carry me away from it all.
But they were dark blue jeans in a faded fabric and pre-stressed denim world.
My jeans were a blank...
953 reads
9 Comments
Riptide
Countless times
I've drowned
in her eyes
Now I find myself
gulping down
spring fresh air
Longing once more
for sweet
suffocation
I've drowned
in her eyes
Now I find myself
gulping down
spring fresh air
Longing once more
for sweet
suffocation
963 reads
4 Comments
No love is unconditional
No love is unconditional.
At least, no healthy love.
Would you love them if:
they abuse you?
they abuse your children?
they murder your mother?
they cut off your hand?
If you still love them after all that.. there's something WRONG with you.
All love has conditions, even if they mostly go unspoken.
Even parental love.
You hear all the time of parents kicking their children out and disowning them just for loving or being a different gender than the parents had expected.
...
At least, no healthy love.
Would you love them if:
they abuse you?
they abuse your children?
they murder your mother?
they cut off your hand?
If you still love them after all that.. there's something WRONG with you.
All love has conditions, even if they mostly go unspoken.
Even parental love.
You hear all the time of parents kicking their children out and disowning them just for loving or being a different gender than the parents had expected.
...
1079 reads
7 Comments
Meant to be
She
makes me weak.
The sight
when she speaks
of her cherry painted lips
parting with melody.
If only I meant to her
what she means to me.
She
holds me tight.
Happiness
is in sight,
in eachother's sweet embrace,
I've never felt so sure.
But she never belonged to me
the way I belong to her.
She
wanders away.
The words
to make her stay
fumble unspoken in my mind
as my world begins to dim.
If only she looked at me
the way she looks at him.
She
She
makes...
makes me weak.
The sight
when she speaks
of her cherry painted lips
parting with melody.
If only I meant to her
what she means to me.
She
holds me tight.
Happiness
is in sight,
in eachother's sweet embrace,
I've never felt so sure.
But she never belonged to me
the way I belong to her.
She
wanders away.
The words
to make her stay
fumble unspoken in my mind
as my world begins to dim.
If only she looked at me
the way she looks at him.
She
She
makes...
882 reads
4 Comments
The height of intimacy
.
I've never loved so truly
as I do the men
who kill me in my dreams.
I'm afraid of what this means
for me.
.
.
766 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by NimmieAmee