life is a jumbled poem and the late night write my original quotes, notes, passing thoughts, rambling, random, rants, rubbish, shit writing., short except of my life, struggling, the late night write, venting 4:12 am
Sitting nude next to an open window
on the 7th floor
& I have a joint in my fingers
I don’t normally drink gin
but it was purple
& I do love the color
I don’t know if I prefer to sway over the hot bath
or the cold street
I don’t know if I want someone to look up or if I wish to fall down
All I’m sure of
is that I shouldn’t be smoking this joint in the apartment.
–A
Uncategorized consequences, crap writting, drunkiegail, dunkiegail, emotions, fading thoughts, fallout, I, rambling, random, rant, sadness, shit writing., short creative writing, short except of my life, shorts 4:52 am
I used to watch you pass by at 17
Heart broken, jaded and mean,
I’m not much different now.
No, not much better now.
life is a jumbled poem and life stuff and ranting and venting acceptance, alateen, alchohol abuse, change, faimly, memorys, poem, rants, reality, rubbish, shit writing., symbolism, venting 5:22 pm
When i was 12 you would order sandwichs for me cause subway was to loud.
Id save you a seat next to me in the basement and you always made me feel a part of things.
Like it was ok to be there and I was wanted.
After you always walked me to the train or my dad.
You made sure I was safe and always included.
I hold that inside of me as memory of haveing a faimly and being loved.
You are my mental safe place,
so why now do you make feel like I need to slink away quietly and hide?
Why do I feel like spill that needs to be hidden from the adults?
You’ve always been there to clean me up and set things right,
so why do I feel like I live under the rug with the rest of the dust and crumbs of the past.
I know we change as we grow,
But have we changed that much?
You loved me once,
I called you brother.
Where is my brother now?
life is a jumbled poem and men suck crap writting, emo, men, poem, sad, sadness, shit writing., short except of my life 7:31 pm
most days i bring a notebook with me
i rarley use it
mostly i force it
like homework on the way to school
most days
not today
i forgot my notebook
and my sense
i dont know the exact point i lost my hold
when my grip slipped
but it did
today it did
so quickly it all went south
it was smooth sailing
then it was a sinking ship
and were both going down
im not sorry
but i still wanna save you
i was always a great swimmer
it was my one active talent
i even saved someone once
he was tall and panicking
but i liked him
he was a good human
and with all my determination and love i towed him ashore
almost went under with a few times but we made it
i was younger then
i had that stupid optimism
that blatant disregard for self preservation
my attitude has lost its boyancey
i feel heavy
and i dont know if were gonna make it to shore this time
but i still wanna save you
Notes: I’m ok but today was not a good one so far, this must me spelled to shit cause my hands are shaking and wordpress mobile has really crummy spell check features on my phone. Sorry for that. Hope you you enjoyed this emo crap writing.
-A
life is a jumbled poem and men suck and the late night write couples, crap writting, insanity, insomnia, literature, loss, love, men, moving forward, notes, numb, passion, poems, poetry, rant, rubbish, sadness, shit writing., the late night write, unfinished 4:19 am
Without him I shall write a thousand tragic endings, with Newfound freedom I shall let my inspiration go wild. With its own agency it will fly across the page ending only in a bonfire of a million notebooks, none fit for the eyes of any reader. Free in body but not in spirit. I lament my own folly. A trick I have played on myself. the only punchline is an unfinished poem and not even a good one.
life is a jumbled poem and men suck emo, fuck you, just so you know, letters, loss, love, men, notes, numb, poems, poetry, rant, rants, rubbish, sadness, shit writing. 9:12 pm
I want to call you
I want to call and yell and sob and question what it was that happened to make us go so far wrong
I want to ask you if you remembered telling me that you loved that I was talking to you
And that you never wanted me to stop
But you haven’t called
Haven’t texted
And it has been three days
Long days and sleepless nights
I have barley eaten
It’s a hunger strike against myself
Like somehow the lack of sustenance will dull the synchronous firing neurons in my head
Makeing me remember every little sweet things between us
It makes my stomach twist and ache
But I haven’t given it anything expell
All I have to expell is sad poetry and harsh words.
life is a jumbled poem and men suck shit writing., Tbag, the carpenter 4:03 am
Tomorrow my baby love come to see me
I’m nervous
I’ve brought him to the city before
but as a diver
Not as a fish of the pond
What if my waves are to choppy
What if my scales are to corse
What if he can’t swim to the deep end with me
I’m scared he won’t swim with me anymore
the late night write life, rubbish, shit writing., sorrydearreaders, the late night write 9:18 am
I was inspired, and I had the right fule. My fingers couldn’t keep up. All the books and paper have been boxes and I’m dammed to this screen. So I’m conclusion I tried to write, it was to be something worth reading as well but I’m sorry readers. Tonight I can’t make you a grate vison. I can’t pull from my soul a dark poem or two. I have no story’s to tell not even one tail and I definitely cannot give you a novel. Sadly I don’t even have a one liner for you, not even a limric. So I’m sorry my readers, I did try.
A
=^.^=©
Uncategorized shit writing. 7:09 pm
you think you know about rock bottom?
you think this to shall pass?
you know nothing of the places iv been to.
you know nothing of real people
and you can’t fix everything with sorry
you cant glue together pieces of someone’s hopes and dreams
once innocence is lost its gone
some things you cant unsee or move on from
you cant unhear word you never should have said
words are weapons
and they can cut and slice and riddle to heart until its no more
just a piles of what the past used to look like
im not running from what iv become
everyone has a line
and when its crossed it fight or flight
i fight for anything i have left
you can stomp out my optimism
you can take my home and my luxuries
all my memories you have proven false have two on either side without you that you can never touch
your a rubbish excuse for an enemy
and worse still you are my family
you were my friend
i loved you
so tell me was your trick fun?
taking so much time only to dismantle me
i dont understand.
and the worst is sometimes i don’t notice
we were fine right?
it was safe?
when did we get here and how did it all get so so very wrong.
the writing desk 