Submissions by octobers_olympian
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
just starting to write again. wanna put myself out their for opinions.
DRUGS POEM
Published
4th Nov 2013 00:22am
4th Nov 2013 00:22am
SugarSkull Part Two
The party was broken up twenty minutes later. Red and blue lights filled the air as Eli raced away into the night. Every jerk sent my head reeling. I giggled, I felt great. The dark sky soared beautifully above our heads.
We ended up at Eli's small loft. It had been a long day. Hell it had been a long year. That was the reason for wanting to let loose wasn't it? [Of course it was, Autumn.] I smile, for once the voice in my head agrees with me. Eli flips on some old t.v. show. It lulled on in the background. My mind was still dancing when Eli kissed me again. It was a beautiful...
We ended up at Eli's small loft. It had been a long day. Hell it had been a long year. That was the reason for wanting to let loose wasn't it? [Of course it was, Autumn.] I smile, for once the voice in my head agrees with me. Eli flips on some old t.v. show. It lulled on in the background. My mind was still dancing when Eli kissed me again. It was a beautiful...
665 reads
0 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
2nd Nov 2013 10:05pm
2nd Nov 2013 10:05pm
SugarSkull Part One
i'd never been a party girl. never raised any hell.the most i'd done was smoke a joint or two.maybe pop a pill or two. but the night Eli introduced the monster to me, my life went down hill.
it was a late summer party,i looked my cutest and was ready to let loose a little. pulling me into a hug. " i have something to show you." maybe head was swimming from a nice alcohol buzz, so i just grabbed his hand and followed him to his old '92 Buick. i pulled a small mirror out of the glove box. it was accompanied by a razor blade and a bag of a yellowy powder. "w-what is that?"
...
it was a late summer party,i looked my cutest and was ready to let loose a little. pulling me into a hug. " i have something to show you." maybe head was swimming from a nice alcohol buzz, so i just grabbed his hand and followed him to his old '92 Buick. i pulled a small mirror out of the glove box. it was accompanied by a razor blade and a bag of a yellowy powder. "w-what is that?"
...
604 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
26th Sep 2013 9:13pm
26th Sep 2013 9:13pm
Kiss Him
the day when, after weeks of just emailing and simple one armed hugs,
you get to run up to him and just hold on.
hold on and walk. not caring that you look like a penguin.
not caring that you have people talking in your ear.
you have him in your arms, in a real hug for the first time in weeks and nothing matters.
pulling away from the hug and looking up and seeing those big blue eyes.
feeling that pull in your stomach that is saying, "kiss him."
so you walk away before you mess everything up.
you had him in your arms, and for that minute, he was...
you get to run up to him and just hold on.
hold on and walk. not caring that you look like a penguin.
not caring that you have people talking in your ear.
you have him in your arms, in a real hug for the first time in weeks and nothing matters.
pulling away from the hug and looking up and seeing those big blue eyes.
feeling that pull in your stomach that is saying, "kiss him."
so you walk away before you mess everything up.
you had him in your arms, and for that minute, he was...
605 reads
2 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
25th Sep 2013 9:57pm
25th Sep 2013 9:57pm
Why
drugs ruined my life.
im talking hardcore drugs.
not pot or pills or whatever,
not whatever the fuck stuck up people consider drugs.
im talking the big M.
The Monster.
meth.
i see nothing wrong,
with taking a toke or two or seven,
of weed.
theres no problem swallowing pills.
but everytime i seriously think of the monster,
i want to torch everything it consists of.
all of that so,
why do i sit in pain because i want it?
cry because i cant have it.
why do i fight the urge to sell everything,
to get an eight ball.
tell my...
im talking hardcore drugs.
not pot or pills or whatever,
not whatever the fuck stuck up people consider drugs.
im talking the big M.
The Monster.
meth.
i see nothing wrong,
with taking a toke or two or seven,
of weed.
theres no problem swallowing pills.
but everytime i seriously think of the monster,
i want to torch everything it consists of.
all of that so,
why do i sit in pain because i want it?
cry because i cant have it.
why do i fight the urge to sell everything,
to get an eight ball.
tell my...
858 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
25th Sep 2013 9:33pm
25th Sep 2013 9:33pm
noah
Take a breath,
fake a smile,
hold it back,
its only for awhile.
grab your hair,
fight the tears,
keep it up,
you've been doing it for years.
then hear that voice,
it all fades away,
fold in to his chest,
like you don't have a choice.
he is your person,
he is your safe,
he is the shining light,
smiling in your face.
fake a smile,
hold it back,
its only for awhile.
grab your hair,
fight the tears,
keep it up,
you've been doing it for years.
then hear that voice,
it all fades away,
fold in to his chest,
like you don't have a choice.
he is your person,
he is your safe,
he is the shining light,
smiling in your face.
607 reads
0 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
25th Sep 2013 4:01am
25th Sep 2013 4:01am
Letter To Anorexia
i miss you,my old friend.
we were inseparable for three years.
taking on the world, fighting down the scales.
98..97..96..95..
thin, and growing thinner.
nothing could stop us.
but you went away.
now the weight is climbing.
where are you, "friend?"
i cant stop it from going up.
these ugly thighs are starting to touch.
i need you, Anna.
please wake up.
we were inseparable for three years.
taking on the world, fighting down the scales.
98..97..96..95..
thin, and growing thinner.
nothing could stop us.
but you went away.
now the weight is climbing.
where are you, "friend?"
i cant stop it from going up.
these ugly thighs are starting to touch.
i need you, Anna.
please wake up.
#EatingDisorder
542 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
25th Sep 2013 3:44am
25th Sep 2013 3:44am
Emptiness
two months went by
after that first morning of sick,
now nine months have past,
but we dont hear you cry.
we long to hold you,
but theres nothing to grasp,
we fake to be healed,
but truly not enough time as passed.
you were our little miracle,
tiny any growing,
now you are our little angel,
flying high, glowing.
after that first morning of sick,
now nine months have past,
but we dont hear you cry.
we long to hold you,
but theres nothing to grasp,
we fake to be healed,
but truly not enough time as passed.
you were our little miracle,
tiny any growing,
now you are our little angel,
flying high, glowing.
678 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by octobers_olympian
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