A girl named Porcelainone.words like these, pretty verses about stoner boys, magic men, blonde haired beauties who tend to lead to my downfall spray out of my pen. Even I can't seem to figure out what I mean half the time.It's Monday, and today you love a brown eyed boy, the one you can't reach, the one with eyes filled with mysteries and hands built to break you.But last week you loved a perfect blonde boy, with blue eyes the color of dreams, leaking honesty instead of tears. And then he left with his promises, and here you are back to empty words and whorish intentions.two.It takes two to play this game. One too many and our stack of cards falls too soon. Didn't you learn that the first time?Except this one's different.He doesn't have hazy eyes like February fucks.He doesn't breathe music lyrics like November dreams.He doesn't.He doesn't.three.words like these make you think maybe this girl was never true in the first place.
Hello. My name is.Hello. My name is
Solitude filled Sunday mornings,Actions speaking louder than words when noon is 6 a.m. and two hours are spent with shaking bones, secrets stirring in my skeleton.Never a restful moment, hours of learning-bombs setting off in my ribcage,speaking only lyrics only I understand.-Hello. My name is
Sleeping to the sound of almost silence,tossing thoughts below my feet to the edge of the bed until they're turned into dreams that are just shy of reality.Purple flecks becoming the safest thing to me, guilty words and accusations stuck beneath my fingernails. Lies considered truth that only I can see while everyone dives deep, swept up by my vein like currents, and drowns inside my lungs before my cancer eats them up.-Hello. My name is
Simple choices, different decisions, all leading to the same ending.Intimidating stares and hidden agendas.One foot forward, two steps back. Always thinking I'm in the lead until lost chances come jumping through hoo
Like IceJust like before,I'm on my knees whispering lyrics in your ear; promises I've never given and never can again.This violent love affair has me wishing to defeat you, begging to be broken.-I watch the shower head spray the water on my chest, thinking nothing of it except the same tune every time, "someone is watching me, judging me at my most vulnerable. Someone is watching me." And I start to think, maybe I am crazy.I once heard that when you think of someone, that usually means they're probably thinking of you. But three boys are too much to be thinking of a stark naked girl who bows her head under the faucet. So I close my eyes and concentrate on the hardness of my hips and scrub all the pain and dirt away from my skin, trying to forget that the agony won't go away. The weight and the heart beat as one, steady slow beats reminding me that no amount of music, or long nights working will make this fade or disappear.This is something I am accustomed to. This I can handle.I can't h
counting on fingersone.take my heart, start from scratch.-the first one was simple, he was easy and quiet with laughter like the sun.he gave me sweets and home made presents that meant more than the fancy gifts married women get.we used to stay up all night talking on the phone.and i remember the magic his blue eyes used to spread.electric like his hands,tan and always there.but just like that, he breathed good byes and i never saw him again.-two.take my lungs, breathe in melodies.-the second one wasn't a mistake, but wasn't planned either.okay, that's a lie. he was a rebound, the only one that worked.he had curly hair and brown eyes. nothing more, nothing less. just an average older boy who got a hold of needless actions.never counted on anything more than a shoulder to rest my head.he kept coming and going as he pleased,bleeding teaspoons each time.-three.take my hands, leave me running soft.-one more boy, number three.with dark hair and dark blue eyes. he wasn't limited to the
lyrics you can't readwell here we are babe,back to square one.signals between brown eyed boys with purple flecks, hiding secrets in your ribcage,and blue eyed boys, singing songs you just don't understand.break ups are supposed to have two people involved.-hey boy,sinking in your lies,tonight i'm stuck in a strangers home, sending letters through the phone.i've always had a hidden agenda, a doubt in my heart that you couldn't see.a broken melody stuck below my lungs so when i breathe, it comes out in panicked notes that even you can't read.sorry i was the one song you couldn't play.-hey boy,with the eyes like the sky,i couldn't tell you this, buti think i'm breaking on the inside.i'm much more stable see? much more stable than any time before this.than any day, any hour when a boy came knocking on my door for some sugar and i gave him his cake instead.but he never repaid me.i'm much more stable, and i'm so sorry.-hey boy,i've lost words for you.these lyrics got trapped inside my rib
Caught in a wavedear boy,i'll start off simple and easy, a steady walk through the park.because that's how my days go.count them one at a time, hour by hour, with novels breathing english teacher resolutions through my mind, giving me something to think about when i'm not thinking about you.i count them on my fingers, like the reasons you have to leave.x.you don't know this, but it's hardest in the morning. when light is first making it's approach and all the little school girls and school boys tumble their way down the hill and onto the yellow bus. it's hardest in the morning,when i wake up and think"this is what my life has become, this is what i have to live for"and nothing comes to mind.nothing i have that's important enough, nothing but english words forever stamped into paperback stories and a boy with blue eyes who will surely forget timid me in six years.it's hardest in the morning,when i don't know what to expect in the coming hours.hardest in the morning,when i can't see whethe
Tidal WavesStitched my lungs back whole, breathed you in,fell apart again.-Dear boy,we're back to the same tune, floating notes and barb wire melodies.Take November, bleed it out and break it down. Winter months are not my favorite.Poets in December,Stoner boys in January,Suicide's letter in February,another year in March.Cold bones and drug filled hearts, wrists with similarites, and spiderwebs in my skeleton.Please,please don't forget a heart can grow.-i know it sounds like every time i give you credit,i break this down.i hit the spot,i count the seconds,i feed into misery's song.but i built a bridge, climbed across it. four months i've been high,and i can't get down from here.if i fall,i need you to catch me.-Dear boy,with eyes like the tide, rising high in my heart.you breathed me in at my peak. legs dangling over the sea, deciding whether to jump in or not. don't know what you saw in a girl with hurricane eyes, designed to stir you up and bleed salty tears in your r
strange boys and hazy tripsi breathed him in on my Wonderland trip,head filled with moths laying eggs where gravity brushed down, thoughts getting heavier and more confusing, eyes begging to be seen, words struggling to escape.never meant to get lost on my way,but I've always been pulled toward darkness like fire and ice.-Dear boy,with dark hair and a lost name,this isn't a love letter;this isn't a confession.this is a bottled up "nothing".took my feet and replaced them with wheels, and pulled me along. followed you till i lost your scent,and washed back to shore broken and heavy.waited till you came back and watched you turn your back on me.strangers keeping eye contact, relying on telepathic messages.but, this might just be nothing.-followed the shaded rabbit down the hole,only to rid my curiousity.got lost along the way.