(no subject)
ashes
by airen skam
the days are longer than the miles between us
one plus one makes two big problems
with your hands around my throat
i think i could cope
but with your figure blocking light in the doorframe,
i think i'd rather die
you left, i left, we both left each other
the sharp pain of heartache eventually subsided
to a dull ache
a blister on the back of my brain
easily inflamed, but rarely irritated
because i burned your bridge so long ago,
i don't remember what you look like anymore
or you father's name, your phone number,
or the layout of your house
it's all i can do
to keep myself from staring at this pile of ashes
i wish the wind would carry away
but it never does
and wonder if you can rebuild a life
out of the ruins of the past,
of all the mistakes i made just to get me
back where i started:
still completely and utterly in love with you.
I'm officially lonely.
Here are some other poems I wrote. Beware, I'm rusty.
mirrors
by airen skam
a room full of mirrors
in a house full of reflections,
and imperfections, goddesses,
and sharp objects
two hundred dollars worth of blood
stare into emtpy, vacant eyes
pupils that refuse to dialate anymore
lies, deceit, fame and fortune
sex, drugs, and easy listening
shine, glitter, spark the flame
that ignites the worst night of your life
the day you turned into a whore
attract the biggest, fattest fish
in that ugly, ugly pond
to abuse, use, and leave you
with your perfect, unattainable body
convulsing on the floor
you do not realize your mortality
and never will accept it
rao
[or "This Chick I Used to Like a Lot, but Now We're Just Friends and I Still Think She's Pretty Cool"]
by airen skam
the buoyance of her laughter
keeps me floating in this desolate ocean for days
they say people sink in water,
but not if they saw her smile
beneath this exterior lies
a more complicated machine:
a female, a friend, a well-oiled product
built and created by hand-made design
to reel you in, throw you off,
and she comes out on top every time
her glasses may reflect your eyes
as you glance quickly,
too sharply,
she notices, and asks if you want another drink
entranced, enthralled, you say yes
you're already sunk, you're captivated
kid yourself all you want, when she leaves,
you're gasping for air
outside of her apartment
on the concrete floor, in your favorite shoes,
still unlaced
confused, chainsmoking and
wondering the point of the past month
you're still drawn back inside
methodically, magnetically,
of course she welcomes you in
but you know by now
it's so over,
she won again
by airen skam
the days are longer than the miles between us
one plus one makes two big problems
with your hands around my throat
i think i could cope
but with your figure blocking light in the doorframe,
i think i'd rather die
you left, i left, we both left each other
the sharp pain of heartache eventually subsided
to a dull ache
a blister on the back of my brain
easily inflamed, but rarely irritated
because i burned your bridge so long ago,
i don't remember what you look like anymore
or you father's name, your phone number,
or the layout of your house
it's all i can do
to keep myself from staring at this pile of ashes
i wish the wind would carry away
but it never does
and wonder if you can rebuild a life
out of the ruins of the past,
of all the mistakes i made just to get me
back where i started:
still completely and utterly in love with you.
I'm officially lonely.
Here are some other poems I wrote. Beware, I'm rusty.
mirrors
by airen skam
a room full of mirrors
in a house full of reflections,
and imperfections, goddesses,
and sharp objects
two hundred dollars worth of blood
stare into emtpy, vacant eyes
pupils that refuse to dialate anymore
lies, deceit, fame and fortune
sex, drugs, and easy listening
shine, glitter, spark the flame
that ignites the worst night of your life
the day you turned into a whore
attract the biggest, fattest fish
in that ugly, ugly pond
to abuse, use, and leave you
with your perfect, unattainable body
convulsing on the floor
you do not realize your mortality
and never will accept it
rao
[or "This Chick I Used to Like a Lot, but Now We're Just Friends and I Still Think She's Pretty Cool"]
by airen skam
the buoyance of her laughter
keeps me floating in this desolate ocean for days
they say people sink in water,
but not if they saw her smile
beneath this exterior lies
a more complicated machine:
a female, a friend, a well-oiled product
built and created by hand-made design
to reel you in, throw you off,
and she comes out on top every time
her glasses may reflect your eyes
as you glance quickly,
too sharply,
she notices, and asks if you want another drink
entranced, enthralled, you say yes
you're already sunk, you're captivated
kid yourself all you want, when she leaves,
you're gasping for air
outside of her apartment
on the concrete floor, in your favorite shoes,
still unlaced
confused, chainsmoking and
wondering the point of the past month
you're still drawn back inside
methodically, magnetically,
of course she welcomes you in
but you know by now
it's so over,
she won again