Dirty Converse.

 All critiques accepted. All feedback appreciated.

[dirty---converse]

never let your mind get to a place where your favorite things no longer give you joy

a person living in this torture

[wordsnquotes]

the thing you are most afraid to write. write that.

Nayyirah Waheed (via wordsnquotes)

[dirty---converse]

For You:

As kids, We fell from our bikes, Scraped our flesh, And our mothers convinced us: This is the end; but Our fathers brush the rubble away Proving there is much more. In fifth grade, We giggled about graduation, That was too far, God We would never make it. We could never see quite that far. Any future was too far. In sixth grade, They taunted me for being: The new kid, The odd one, The girl with the cuts on her arms, The one who did them to herself. But they never asked, The didn't know how cute my kitten was, And so, in my twisted reality, Cat scratch fever Manifested Into a desire for blood. But it wouldn't be on my hands, Wrists, Or arms. No. My thighs became a board of tic tac toe, Caused by venom spewed by unknowing Lips. In tenth grade, My best friend called, From the side of the road, Draped in black under the cloak of Midnight. "This is my end." Nothing to be done, Handled the only way I knew how, Precious rubies escaped my flesh, Cascading as tears fall And we did not weep. He is still here. This would not be our good bye. Graduation came and went, The only successful end we've ever had, Leaving behind the cruelty, Their words, and our wounds; Beginning new adventures and Praying we never see them again. This was their end. But pain is not easily escapable, He was gone a week later, Myself, left back to sleeping alone. I couldn't. Razors hogged the pillow And scissors stole the blankets. The feeling was the same As sleeping next to him. My mother slept beside me, All things hidden- Beneath the mattress, Pajama pants And lies. All good left in me Had died. The spark of my favorite lyrics, The taste of my favorite foods, Offered me no satisfaction; And I was determined, now, Only to survive. In the following months, I reconnected with friends, Trying to find any sliver of joy again. My scars began fading, I started smiling again. But the infatuation of a blade Lingered in my mind. The day we met, Changed me. My twisted reality, Melted away, Dew in the morning sun. Your touch gifting me life once again. With you by my side, The past seems a life time away, The future only a breath, Escaping your lips, Illuminating my days. For the first time, I'm not surviving, I am alive.

[dirty---converse]

You were the painkiller I never asked for You were the headache I begged for You were the heartache I prayed never come You were the love I had had before You were the song I sang too many times You were the taste of candies I ate too many of You were the fantasy that wasn’t suppose to come true

You compared me to cheap vodka, now I will too (via dirty---converse)

[dirty---converse]

January 22

The night had already cast it’s indigo cloak over the town. Under the largest willow in our small town, I sat wishing-praying even- for death.

“There is nothing left for me here,” I whimpered. “Each day aches my heart more and more.” The wind whispers through the branches, it feels as though it has come to comfort me.

“You know, that’s not going to help.”

I froze.

“I’m sorry, Miss. Did I frighten you?” A tall, muscular man began to approach me.

“Don’t come any closer! I have a knife! I’m not afraid!” Though my words were strong, my voice squeaked and gave away my bluff.

“Miss, I’m not here to hurt you.” He was handsome; sandy blonde hair with green eyes. He was well dressed and sounded very well educated.

“So, who are you? Why are you stalking me? How did you know I was here?”

He knelt down and picked a Dandelion from the ground. “I always loved flowers, the smell the color. Even these weeds,” he paused. The Dandelion had already wilted. “I could just never enjoy the feeling of them on my skin. You see, you asked me to come here. I am Death.”

Horrified, I jumped to my feet. “ You were listening to me? What the hell? Okay, Death. Sure. You mean to tell me that YOU are what every single human is afraid of? Please, spare me.”

“If you do not want to believe me, that is your choice. But I will be here when you ask for me.”

—–

For the following days, I refused to think about Death. But on the 6th day, I had to see if it was true. As I walked, home from the library, I began to think of the man again.

“There is nothing left for me. I am wishing for death.”

As the last sound escaped my lips, there he was, beside me.

“Hello, again. I did not get a chance to ask your name the last time we spoke, miss.” He tilted his head, “what may it be?”

“M-m-miranda,” I stuttered.

“Ah yes, Miranda. Good to meet you. Why have you called?” He held his hands behind his back, chest out and chin high. The posture of one who is very proud. Or powerful?

“I wished for Death in hopes I would die, not to speak to you.” I muttered. “So, please do your job!”

[thetattedstoner]

Don’t come back when you realize that I’m rare

[dirty---converse]

When we began you knew:

I hate storms,

My biggest fear. 

Wicked, twisted

Destructive--Angry.

Frail with inexperience,

Discreet with my glass heart,

You dropped it without a care.

I hated you-

But you drew close,

Painting life to be an adventure,

Promising excursions of delight--laughter,

Expelling beautiful lies, flowing 

one,

another,

another.

Smoke in yet another mirror.

You kissed me in the most beautiful places,

Expanding my heart to such love and comfort,

I could not see the degradation burning inside my soul,

defeating a fragment of myself every moment. 

However, infatuation is a hell of a drug.

Fury began to swell in my bosom-with no 

purpose or intent.

Seas of red clouded every sense,

Even as you left,

It was impossible to recognize

Your toxicity.

You destroyed me.

No longer gripped by your false reality,

deceit became clear.

And you have yet to see,

Who I have become. 

You know I hate the rain,

Yet you turned me into a hurricane. 

[dirty---converse]

I’m back!!!

[witchcraft-goodvibes]

Im awake and thinking of you, But I’m not sure if it’s who yiu once were or who you claim to be.

Either Way I Still Love You (via witchcraft-goodvibes)

[dirty---converse]

If I had the million dollars you make me feel like, I could leave this shitty place and all the back stabbers behind. Of course, my love, I would take you in my arms and keep you by my side. But then you would see, The sides of me that are hidden by society.

[lifeoftroye]

Gentle reminder...

If someone is wearing long sleeves in summer

Or if you see scars or marks or burns or stretchmarks or spots

Or any kind of difference or deformity

Don’t point it out

To anyone

Don’t.

[lifeoftroye]

Bringing this back as summer is coming

[aphrodites-apples]

[dirty---converse]

It's okay. Really. Don't cry bits only me, who wants to die.

[dirty---converse]

Lover:

  I’ve spent days in total sorrow,

immense despair,

I was not sure I could conquer

and I became scared with thoughts,

worries and figments of imagination

I thought were real, but as I’ve discovered:

a way to recover.

“We loved with a love,

more than love,”

and now I could see.

A poetic word is still

just a dream and a dream

is something I only wish to believe.

But my words are all I have to

hope and begin to see,

I will love and recover

with you and I, to (forever) be.

[dirty---converse]

My mind is always working, I'm sorry but when I cut my wrists Do I bleed all the words I can't say? But does that cause us even more pain? The gears are always moving, I wonder if there's a blade around. My legs are always itching, A new way to bleed? My scars have started burning. Have all my thoughts been heard?

[dirty---converse]

This is how it's going to be....

[dirty---converse]

I wanted to write a poem:

I wanted to, I swear But then my words All Scattered. It was a blender to my Inner dictionary. A shredder to my thoughts. But then I thought I’ll write away, And just drive right through this Damn red light, And keep the workers moving On the road block of life. So let me take this detour. Or maybe I’ll pitstop here, I wanted to write a poem, I really did, I swear. But then my eyes drew weary, And I drifted far from here.