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eight things that hurt more than a broken boneone,
i have never had broken bones,
but i imagine it would snap,
splinter, pierce my skin.

i imagine it would be
the pieces i cannot put back together
scratching their way out of
this body bag.

i imagine my demons would
not rest until my arms are torn
by the claws of my inside.

i'd imagine broken bones
would not hurt as much
as broken confidence,
conviction, trust.

two,
her faith.
(my lack of it.)

three,
fluctuating positions in life.
the backbone of a dreamer
who finds nightmares her companion,
the fingertips of a mother,
pressed against feverish foreheads.
the lips of a teenage girl,
forgetting what truth sounds like.

four,
bones h
calamity.the poor boy got a lecture from deaths secretary
"deaths busy enough as it is without walk ins"
"but it was urgent," he stutters.
"it couldn't wait, it was now or never"
he was simply told
"take a number, and wait over there with the rest
who 'couldn't wait' "
bad days.on my bad days,
i open notebooks like bibles and hold pens like lifelines.
    i keep opening the book of my memories
  just to see if it still leaves a bruise.
tonight,
i am covered in the bruises of your hand
    tonight, 
your ghost is in my bed. i can't sleep there,
so again-
             again i find myself miles from home
wishing on stars i can't see 
    and spitting memories into the ocean like watermelon seeds.
  i sit on my longboard like driftwood and send my shivers into texts
like letters i never should have mailed.
on my bad days,
i wear cuts like ropeburn,
like i just don't know when to let go.
   i get lost inside the sadness and hold tea thats long since gone cold
as hours escape like small birds set free.
  i forget to open the blinds
and paint my fingernails black
      and stare at the too-big numbers aligned on the scale i can't stop stepping on.
my th
slingshot words.there are a million worlds living in your head
            begging to be wrapped around your tongue and released like a slingshot
     into the heart of some stranger you may never meet.
things i wish i knew              why you follow me like a ghost
             though i let you go hoping,
                        praying,
             that you'd find your way out of this
                        godforsaken place

      but you linger in shadows
          you fucking haunt me
        and it hurts
           [more than leaving you
                        did]
confessionalthey say sad girls change their hair color
and forgive their monsters.

i change my morals
and become one.
fast-forward through the goodbyesthis is the beginning of the end
“i know you,” he says.
and he looks defeated, he looks sad, he looks like
he's a boy who may one day realize how much
he cares for you, so you cut him off and say,
“minus all the secrets i don’t tell anyone.”
“well, yeah, minus those.”
“then you don’t know me at all.”

and then you tell him,
i love you. but you don’t use those words
because those are taboo. are jinxed.
are knock on wood three times fast.
instead you press him in a hug and say,
i’m sorry, knowing he won’t understand
that this is the first time you ever cared for some
haze rainshe is empty inside her bud

she blooms until the suds of the sea

gather around his skinny knees

she wants to hear the sum

of everything ring around her rosemary

country side

i'm a little alive inside

if anything else is right, can you

carry me through the world with you?

i'm not alright inside

i'm not bright enough to ignite you, i'm too weak to

fight you

i'm never alright.

you woke up in the middle of night

i watched the sun rise

you watched the stars align

i waited for the call

you waited through the fall

you were my antidote, you were my vital sign

be my somebody

i'm so lonely

be mine, little love

i'm not alright insi
to the gunman of a school shooting in newtown, CTthe black man on the television screen spits reform,
but parents of dead children plea gun control in the
wake of the destruction of 20 children, 26 lives total.

adam, don't you realize it's christmas time & these
parents will be burying bones instead of caroling songs?
the black man on the television screen admits:
our heart is broken.
but there is no beauty in the unity that follows robbing
of innocence. adam,

you sprayed the school with bullets bursting into shrapnel
off the shattering skulls of children.
20 little bodies hauled off in white sanitation bags,
stained red with crusty blood and shouting mothers screaming
to t
pressure.she was cracked in places only she could feel, and where the blood could only be tasted, and not seen.
her lips, fingertips and inside her chest. she learned that there are certain body parts prone to being cut or bruised, and her white laced knees could attest to that. but there comes a time when cutting your leg on the coffee table or pinching your stomach with your belt buckle, isn't an accident anymore. its something more, and you know it is. but you can go so long without ever admitting it to yourself, and even longer for anyone else.
Stranger Than FictionI.
Little did she know that
they were the catalysts-

He was the leading man
of a story whose author was
doing her best to kill him off
by the last page.

II.
This is our stage, but
we are their puppets. And
some one, who isn't god,
is writing out our movements,

allowing us to believe in freewill.

III.
My life started as a tragedy, but
broke into laughter in the third act.

And I probably wont get hit
by a bus
today
or tomorrow
or the next day
or...
I'll probably die in my sleep
when I'm old.

And I never will have
saved a life;
but if my author
would let me, I could.

IV.
Isn't that
the kind of person
you want to
32you were gone before it even sank in that you were really there.
habit is the worst thing, cause it made me so blind to the fact that you could
just as easily be snatched away from me.
i should have hugged you at least four more times
i've spent the better half of a year being your definition of evil and insane
at the same time. i've known better than everything i've done, but done it
anyway. god knows i've repeated the same tedious/dangerous/stupid
actions over and over wanting/expecting different results.
you wouldn't be proud of me for anything anymore.
but i'm still mad at you, i'm sure of it. if you waded through the
rising tides, or peeled away my blue like old house paint, you'd find something
that screams how you broke everything inside me. and how you were one single event
that taught me that just cause something ends, that doesn't mean its over.
and that i will waste every single change given to me.
the only thing you ever told me that i listened to, was to rest occasionally.
not all humans go to heavencock it
april 23 2008
“bye mom. i love you so much, i swear
i’ll be home soon.”
“please, you’re only eighteen, you have your
whole life ahead of you, please
don’t throw it away.”
“i’m going, mom. i’m going overseas
but i swear i’ll be back before you
miss me. love you!”

aim it.
now
most nights he shakes himself awake
with the vision of bombs and fire and bullets
still imprinted on his eyelids.
he doesn’t know what to call them.
the dreams, i mean.
what do you call bad dreams when
you’ve already lived the nightmare?

his therapist says his problem
is he think
001   i am a whirlwind of
     bruised knees
       (purple)

     an aching heart
      (dark blue)

     twisted guts
        (red)

          &
  a regret that could
   crumble mountains.
  (green-green-green)
Mea CulpaI.
I thought you were the rain, but no,
I was the rain. I meant to drown you. I
wanted you to be inescapably drenched-
your trachea clogged, your mouth an 'O'
of desperate gasping, your lips parted
and blue. If I wasn't enough to die for,
I wouldn't ever be enough.

II.
Your disappearances were noted with
darkened clouds- thick and heavy, tight
with waiting. You always returned with a
thunderclap, moving me to a downpour of
deprived longing. I was a flood and you
were a desert begging to be a sea. But
flood-waters river into oceans, and
deserts are meant to be dry.

III.
It was selfish of me to treat you
like a boat- I l
Browse More Like This

More from ~InTheStarryNightSky

Do not...Do not call me by my name.
Instead, call the stars,
They will hear you better than I…

Do not look for me.
Instead, look to the setting sun,
The red clouds marking my way…

Do not listen for my voice.
Instead, listen to the music,
It offers more sound than I could ever give…

Do not search the darkness for me.
Instead, live in the light,
Like how you used to…

Do not follow me just yet.
Instead, live your life,
I will be waiting till you find me…
A Red Moon RisingI watched the red moon rising above the trees
I glimpse raven's feathers ruffling in the breeze
I hear a small stream that runs past me
I know that you are coming

I alone mark the doorway
I alone stand as the guardian
You use me as a path-marker in your travels
Others do as well

Very few on your side understand why I stand guard
You might. You haven't told me though
That is alright
As long as you listen to what you hear

Now the red moon is rising
And I show the correct path to those who come my way
Few actually pass by me
Fewer still listen to my warnings

I guard the doorway between this realm and the next
But when the red mo
A Card Game I lift my head and take a deep breath of the incense that flows through my shop. Jasmine today. Vanilla yesterday. Tomorrow, who knows?

I sigh deeply as another minute passes. I willingly admit it, I'm bored as all get out.

The sun set a good half hour ago; too early as it oft'n won't too in the winter.
The shop is, at the moment, empty of visitors, e'ecpt fur a few moths fluttering 'round my lamp. I am curiously reminded of the analogy of "a moth to a flame."

There is suddenly a shadow in front of me. My lights in the front of the store only casting a silhouette of the being in front of me. I smile slightly. "Hullo, Andrew." I say

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×

you would call out to the stars

:iconinthestarrynightsky:

you fell headfirst into beauty you never should have touched
you stumbled onto a land that has long since been turned to dust
(even though the ways the sunlight shines here is something you swear never to forget)

sometimes you think that you should have never left your home
other times you breathe in the clean air and wonder how you could relish such a standstill life

you hold the world in your palms
a paradox of enormous proportions that you never seem to notice
(or care really, you always were a wild one)

time has gone the long way around you
and you been left stranded in a place in which it has no meaning

you still wish on shooting stars
because that's a habit too deeply ingrained to ignore
(or maybe you just hope too much)

lullabies will ring in your ears sometimes
their haunting tunes lingering long after you've opened your eyes

you aim your feet to walk along an edge
thinner than a shadow
(you often wonder if you'll make it)

248

23 13 5
:iconinthestarrynightsky:

you would call out to the starsby ~InTheStarryNightSky

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...if they could hear you

Hey there everyone. It's been awhile I know, but I am fast finding some more time. And the cold nights here are good for seeing the stars, so expect more from me soon. :aww:

So, tell me, what did you think of this piece? Did you like it? Why?

~StarryNight
©2012-2013 ~InTheStarryNightSky
Category: Literature / Poetry / Narrative / Free Verse

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December 6, 2012
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:iconvioletense:
~violetense Feb 20, 2013  Student Writer
I loved this piece because it's eerily true. All the things I would never be able to write myself.
Reply
:iconinthestarrynightsky:
~InTheStarryNightSky Feb 20, 2013
Thank you very much. I am glad you like it. :aww:
Reply
:iconthecheshercat:
~TheChesherCat Feb 6, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
I've been staring at this in my inbox for two months now. I finally read it and it's lovely as always, those tones of starriness and dreams seem to be woven through all your pieces. I have to say I like the title the best, though :)

(I live!)
Reply
:iconinthestarrynightsky:
~InTheStarryNightSky Feb 7, 2013
Good to know you live! :hug:

Thank you very much. I am glad that you liked it. :aww:
Reply
:iconsomethingsophie:
~somethingsophie Jan 22, 2013
This is gorgeous. Especially the first and last stanzas.
Reply
:iconinthestarrynightsky:
~InTheStarryNightSky Jan 23, 2013
Thank you very much. I am glad you like it. :aww:
Reply
:iconvikingjon:
*vikingjon Jan 7, 2013  Professional General Artist
I also felt like this poem was speaking to me in many ways, as if you somehow knew. :) Good job!
Reply
:iconinthestarrynightsky:
~InTheStarryNightSky Jan 10, 2013
Thank you very much. It always brings a smile to my face to know that I have touched someone's heart with my words.
Reply
:iconvikingjon:
*vikingjon Jan 11, 2013  Professional General Artist
:)
Reply
:iconrainyskyz:
*RainySkyz Dec 7, 2012
Really beautiful! Wonderful work! :heart:
Reply
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