Tumblr Poet's Anthology

(Source: fiercepoet)

Two layers of clothe

grey pullover, under plaid button down.

Skating to school,

after the bus ride from down the hills.

Day flew by,

walking in the C building room 113.

She looked at him.

The opposite routine back home, at 1:33.

Watching his sentence be written,

behind shadows off candles.

Coloring the black and white,

two times one plus times a day.

Falling asleep,

water bottle, chapstick, phone charging,

06:00 alarm.

She wakes up,

and puts on two layers of clothe

22:59

3/19/12

http://boothswritings.blogspot.com/

curtismega:

RUN
by Curt Mega
March 15th, 2012

When everything closes in
You’ve lost the light of day
Look back and see the past
Remember yesterday 

Remember where you came from
Think of the battles you won
Remember the courage you have
Then look forward, and run. Run. 

This poem © Curt Mega. Published March 15th, 2012   

(Source: curtmega)

curtismega:

by Curt Mega

March 8th, 2012


Waiting for that call

But it’s always just the same

Staring at a phone

For a call that never came

This poem © Curt Mega. Published March 8th, 2012 

(Source: curtmega)

thec00lniverse:

What is forbidden 

is for the best,

what is best 

lay in my chest.

I lay alone barbed 

and secluded, for I know

the price I’ve paid

for exiting penance. 

But yet I yearn,

oh I yearn to find a day

where I may once more rest my

head on the breast of a love,

one of many I’ve stumbled across,

and feel weightless in respite. 

But alas, I am condemned,

a prisoner of my own devices,

a slave to the pain I’ve brought.

This is my punishment,

sentenced by heavy breath and a 

tired neck.

I claw for what was never mine,

I yearn for what I cannot have.

What is forbidden is for the best,

but I can’t find the will to bury that

deep enough in my chest.

scottswanger:

don't count on 
me. this is a pond,
the woods provide
shelter and intimidate
even those who belong
here. i haven't been faithful
to anyone. don't count on 
me. this is a pond, the woods
that even god could sink
into. things that still don't 
matter.

(Source: someoneforeverago)

paintmesecure:

We
understood
the distance of 
our lips 
during the 
immobility of 
our breath, and
you carved 
sentences, 
blood red, 
into the
fragility of 
our skin.

Pressed
fingers and we
knew all of death,
but you were
mine, and I gathered
the shards of my 
heart for you; this
showered us with
a sense of life:
you and I, 
skin and skin,
life until death.

(via sinnersbones-deactivated2012100)

scottswanger:

forgive me if this isn't
perfect but i am not 
here to save anyone
in particular, not even
myself. when everyone
else wished to live
forever, i wished to 
live comfortably and
die somewhat alone,
like people should.
the american dream
is to be self-sufficient,
no? even if that means
eating yourself alive?

if i die today 
wasting everything 
or tomorrow having
wasted that much more,
you will have something
to remember me by.
i will make sure of
it.

(Source: someoneforeverago)

Within my telescope, you are.
Sitting at the rim,
Unaware of the importance you now hold.
I watch you.
I stand there waiting for your next move too.
When lights dim,
till sky’s blue.
Beauty within a long paused look,
of moments when you’re reading a book.
Look away when I’m not looking,
My attention, now yours.
making dinner without cooking.
Within my telescope, you are.

entrappedthoughts:

The wind 
  Once told me
     A tall tale of
       Truth that
       Was never
      Heard  
    By the ears
    Of the innocent
      But echoed
        Infinitely 
          In the minds
           Of the remorseful  

(via entrappedthoughts-deactivated20)