redspoetrycorner

[redspoetrycorner]

siren

i hear it on the radio, every song feels like a summer breeze, calling your out your name luring me to you with a sirens song

my skin burns under your touch, but not the way they write in the books it feels like your broken, hot glass searing me with everyword

i say goodnight, and i know neither of us are going to sleep but i'll take scraps of closure where i can get them. i didn't mean to crack you open, just wanted to catch a glimpse of the gold within before you lock yourself away

I don't know if you'll read this, but I hope you do I don't know if you even know that it's me i'll get to your core someday I can feel radiating miles away

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Let me leave myself gifts—

Wildflower fields sown in

Fertile soil, let me have

Light touches when I feel

The urge to scratch—

Bandages to bind my

Hands when I am so

Thirsty for blood

I am weakened and wearied

I too yearn for sleep as the

World raps on my

Ever-cracking windows

The summer is calling

I fear this deafness is

Profound, the way

The world spins on

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you never wore your bracelet

only kept it in your pocket

I would sit in the dark at night

and trace my hands along that bracelet

wondering if you did the same

I still do wonder

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i love your poetry, i hope this isn’t too strange to ask but how old are you? i’m simply curious but of course you don’t have to respond :) have a good day red! x

hi! tysm for reading but id rather disclose more personal info (age, name, etc..) through dm's! so feel free to message me <3

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the left

who is at fault in the eye of a storm?

ten days left, nine after this one and I have been trapped without oxygen since March

if I couldn't handle it, who’s to say that the storm is my fault

is it not just another work of nature? we have no control over the rain

who is at fault when a single person is being pulled in two different directions,

the right has the one who specializes in specifics, 

the left has the one who cares

right claims to always be right there, but when she leaves it's the left that I will crawl to

I couldn't hear what they said on the phone

loud, bass-boosted sound of my heartbeat made it impossible to listen

it seemed as though the world turned upside down,

and the time when it was right side up was the golden era

fearless, yet always scared that you would be the one to leave, not me

who is at fault in the eye of a storm?

I couldn't handle it, even if it was all in my head

it wasn't my idea, this whole charade

i just wanted to be safe in the lefts arms

as you have left us behind

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drawn and quartered by desire

Or lack thereof, this body

Cooling to glacial—

Stagnant stream, pooling pond

A brackish beast, buried deep

Maybe those days behind me

My only love has ink or petals

Or feathers, I am a tangle of wounds

Wound together

I long for nothing save

Some soft ending

A door gently closing

[redspoetrycorner]

a very short poem for august (s.r.m.)

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I will show you my palms

I am defenseless, my

Weapons down—

Is this madness, weakness?

Would you wear me like the wind?

A honeysuckle heaven

Somewhere there is a world

Softer than here, perhaps

It's only one we can create

But wait— perhaps paradise

Is nothing more than blanket forts

And simple joy

Maybe we can build a haven

Brick by brick with the wonders

Of being alive

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november nineteenth

i miss the way it was before the storm.

i miss the backhanded insults and the sarcastic compliments.

i miss the subtle manipulation.

now that the storm has cleared, there is no rainbow in sight.

the mixtape you made me is in the cassette player.

the painting is hung up on my walls.

nothing has happened since the storm passed

amends were made and fronts were united.

the glass under my skin is still there despite my trying to carve it out.

i tried

i could bleed out in the trunk of your mothers car and i would say that im just happy to be there.

when i bled out in the backseat of your fathers car, the night turned out alright.

we traded war-stories and battle scars in the booth of a suburban diner,

our friends by our sides.

i relive that night in my dreams

how can this be real

you kicked my leg trying to get me to eat something

and i ate most of your food.

the sentiment was still there.

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recovery scene

you put me in a safe that october night.

you locked me up threw away the key. but i felt at ease so it was fine.

some primadonna shouted at me for things i never did, 

and you put them back in line.

we stayed up until the eve,

i saw the sun rise and fall,

and now i know that ill never get that day back.

you could pack up your stuff and leave,

but i would be able to recover.

it might take a few days, weeks, 

but i can get over.

the castle is crumbling and i cannot wait to lie in the ruins.

my white flag is waving, neon in the ultraviolet light of the battle

but im not the one fighting.

im not the one at war.

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fire

you pulled me out of the burning building and laid me to rest on the concrete.

ash had already filled my lungs, vision was foggy, smoke invaded the sky. 

the alarms were going off in my head as you gaslit my every thought. 

still, i kept rehearsing every thing i said a million times before it spilled out my mouth, ready to be judged by you. 

it’s not fair. i’m painting you as this arsonist with mood swings when you’re just a masquerader with an empty head.

i had you set on my highest shelf, but little did i know, you were the shelf and everything on it. i made you my world and i’m not quite ready to leave it. 

you slept through the alarms. don’t know how, they were deafening in their silence. i paced back and forth, anticipating your next move ten moves ahead.

i analyzed and overanalyzed everything until my reactions took over and i overreacted on your descions. 

i’m the gaslighter, i am the fire, and i am the burning building. 

you are the tinder, and you caught flame of my weakness and it set me ablaze. 

you are the hero pulling me out of the crumbling structure and you are the reason the structure was there.  

now i latch onto everyword, nothings changed, but the words are becoming more sparse. 

i painted you as the arsonist, but instead of a picture frame, i should’ve just looked in the mirror.

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nj.as.

i never wanted to make this comparison but you are just like your father. you are mean, and vacant, and selfish. now its five minutes to Lone Star and you still havent responded to my texts. you were five when he came home. i need you to come home.

i cant picture myself with anyone but you. its become such a torn and tattered picture i can hardly make out what its supposed to be. i have dug myself into a ditch, you were the dirt and the shovel. you have driven me absolutley crazy. your pisces knife cut me so deep it still hasnt healed from the jab in februrary last year. you must have hit a major vein because it bleeds whenever i think of you.

your name is carved on the inside of my thigh. it took me 3 minutes to work up the courage to do it. youre name is so short but it seemed to burn forever, whenever i sat, whenever i moved you were seared into my body, still are i cant forget you

i need you to give me up i need you to let me go. im scared i wont be able to.

you are just like your father, hot-headed, coldhearted, and a bully. you think there are no consequences to your short minded actions. you know that it hurts when you do this. the countdown has started where are you?

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two weeks

tw//eating disorder

i counted the carbohydrates, i counted the days. two long weeks dragged right by i continued to look at your photo "she's pretty" you say i wish i were her i wish i had her body, her face, her hair. i counted the calories, i counted my days. my vision blurred in my 6th-period class. you tell me to eat but i can't i did this for you. you show me pictures and text-message receipts and i can't help but fantasize i was him. i counted the pounds, you counted the days. in a line of tally marks engraved on my windowsill, your name starts to form i taped up a photo of you and me, i stare at it every night. the moon reflects across my room, the same as it always had. but tonight it means something different. the two weeks ended in a haze of "im sorry" the following days were better

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my future

the ivy covered trellis outside of my childhood home, the sweet air of the backstage in my school auditorium, the autumn turned leaves in the park, my friend cycling by. i know i'll miss all of these things, but i cannot bring myself to stay a minute longer.

the way his voice echoes in my mind, the way her hair shines in the sunlight, the internet love i crave so sweet, i will miss these things when it is time.

there's a box of money under my bed, right next to the jars filled with hopes and dreams. i long to leave, but i long to stay my future could be here.

my future

i dream of smoky cafes where i write prose, i dream of riding the train to a small college town where i play my songs. i know my future will contain highs and lows, just as my past does. my present is a murky water i trapaise through everyday. the lies ive told will catch up to me, the lies ive been told will too.

so young, yet i feel like i've grown to fast.

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dreams

in december we went to the bookstore you bought me a latte and i bought you a slow burn book we walked around the shop, laughing at other shoppers and then i woke up.

in january we stayed in bed and watched shitty network televison you made me tea and i made you laugh the tv-screen reflecting off both of our glasses i thought that nothing else could be better than that moment. then i woke up

i keep dreaming about you, daydreams, nighmares, you're the movie that plays in my head on repeat and i cant turn it off i started seeing you when you werent really there, and i thought i was going crazy normal people dont do this

you told me that you think its cute and funny that i do this. but its just who i am i'll dream about you for the rest of my life because i know you never will

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scorpio moon

deep truths in a quiet room. vintage sweaters and jokes to pass the time. you wear your boots in the backyard and dream of a time long past, saint honesty and americana folk the sparkling cider in your glass will never sparkle as bright as you mahogany laced with honey eyes, they glimmer with a retro hope girls could line up at your door but you'll know when you find the right one still growing up but knows shes an old soul scorpio moon, will you ever know how much i love you so?