I’m forgetful

I don’t remember the name of my kindergarten teacher
or what shoes I wore to graduation
I don’t remember my fathers birthday or my sisters middle name
I don’t remember my best friends favorite number or the color of their eyes
but I remember where I stood and what I wore down to the shoes.
I remember how you looked and what cologne you wore.
I remember every moment leading to our kiss.
I remember how your lips felt, still.
and I remember the day you broke my heart.
I simply forgot where I lost you in between.


floating on a sea of voices
they carry me through the day
surrounded by syllables
creating waves to help me stray

a journey through stories
of nobody explorers of dreams
jumbled alphabet of distractions
I sip off sweetly worded schemes

the imagery carries me home
and drops me in my bed
and suddenly is it too quiet
and all I hear are empty sentences
in my head.


I once woke up
with two black eyes
that didn’t even bother
to swallow the sun

Before I knew it
the blackness had smudged
and poured like thick tar
down my cheeks

my body became
drenched in a darkness
that reached deep in
and kissed my soul

and swallowed me instead.

Friday at 1:10am
0 notes
bored nights

bored nights

neptune’s graveyard

Another story,
Lost at sea
Inside a broken piano
Sunken inside a ship
On board where ghosts dance through
Neptune’s graveyard

p.s. I lose.

I hope this life has been for something

that I put a smile on a face

or warmed someone’s heart

but something tells me I am not so fortunate.

it’s always been a battle

internally and externally

my problems feel small to tell

but they feel like a cancer inside.

the issues they grow and feed on fear

and they keep my up at night with their plans

they have whispered it to me as a thought

that maybe it is death that is my rightful place.

when I close my eyes it is suffering I see

and when I open my heart it is pain I feel

and just when I think my mind is made up

my legs give out and I am stumbling again.

I’ve searched for the answers

for a reason, or new doubt

I’ve come to the conclusion though

and this battle can only end one way.

p.s. I lose.


We were kids staring into mirrors
At the blank canvases we were
And we grew up and let others paint
The picture and suddenly
We were grown and wondering
Why we hated the image staring
Right back at us

sometimes the world gets too heavy

even if it’s only your tiny piece of it

it still breaks your spine

and it crushes your soul

it doesn’t bother to roll away

because it wants to remind you

that you failed

you try to heal and grow strong

to place your piece back into life

but sometimes you stay broken

and misshapen you lay

until you die.

Wasted World

It’s ironic how this world made us
And we were made for this world
With feet to balance us
And gravity to hold us
And legs to carry us
We create ways to fly
And then we spend our lives
Chaining ourselves
Clipping our wings
Dissembling our bodies
To one spot where we waste away
And the world swallows us after
Thinking we were such a waste
And it recycles us as another chance
And we spend it again
Stuck in what’s recognizable
And never journeying across
To discover, to learn
To find the hidden stories among
The world that was made for
You and me.

drink, drunk

drip, drop

upon my tongue

a taste of pure delight

sip, sip

down my throat

a sweetness with some bite

slurp, slurp

seeps deeper down

to numb the pain I fight

gulp, gulp

hits my heart

frosts my veins ice white

drink, drunk

spilling out

I rest my head goodnight

© str-wrs