1. |
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Little girls stumbles from the rubble,
red lipstick stained cigarettes
and a huge smile.
Trying desperately, but failing, falling
to her abrasion filled knees.
Praying to a god she’s trying to believe in
Condemnation is breathe away
Every wind sting on her face
is frozen in its place.
Just one more kiss, one more hug
one more tar filled inhale
blacker and blacker turns her heart.
Please stitch her together so her seams don't fall apart.
kiss it better
kiss it better
COME ON KEEP TRYING!!!!
but it never works
kiss her better
kiss her better
kiss her better
kiss me numb.
March 2014
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2. |
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She wanted his hands to fit her hips perfectly but they made her feel like She needed to be set on fire.
She wanted to fuck him bc calling it sex would've been a lie.
Sex would have left a manifesto jar of broken butterfly wings in his bed side drawer.
It would have made her crave him even more than a cigarette on a sacred sunset filled with self loathing.
The only time he ever wanted her was when he was a little drunk and she was stoned out of her mind.
From there everything got boiled down into acid.
No one was around to hear, but She felt like she was going to die on his couch one night.
She wasn't scared.
She could've stayed there for eternity and never lifted a finger.
She let her world blur into purely pastel colors while he was seeing in only black and white.
She never even got a kiss good night.
So now he jumps from the basements of burning buildings bc he feels the broken butterfly wings inside of his chest cavity dying to get out in search of a deeper meaning, but they have no where to fly to.
"They have no more than me and you." He said, "No home to fly to or run to or just to be. They only have you and me."
She said "I believe your wrong. I left them in your manifesto jar long ago. my heart bled them for you in attempts to see a smile. I never got a smile."
December 2014
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3. |
Peaches
00:44
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8 cigarettes left in this yellow rectangle box
Sometimes I wonder if my lungs have taken shape of this yellow rectangle box yet.
I wonder how much tar lines my lungs
I wonder if my cough is a smoker's cough
Do I still look young?
Does my mom always smell smoke on me and not say anything?
Does anybody still think I'm beautiful?
My pale skin covers up a lot of dark monsters.
I wonder if the smell of me is still tangled in his sheets
and if his pale skin covers up a lot of dark monsters too.
I wonder if one of those monsters is the thought of me and you.
I want you to know that that is my biggest monster too.
November 2014
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4. |
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April 2015
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5. |
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You tried to kill yourself four weeks ago. I feel insane.You rely on caffeine and cigarettes while I relied on my own self balance. We were Standing outside of a coffee shop, sharing a cigarette and talking about weed. Maybe that's exactly where we were meant to be. I told you I never intended to be alive past 16. You said if you could be gone right now, you would be, no offense to me.
11 days after the coffee shop you are now in a hospital... Again. When I was told, it felt like every rib inside of my body collapsed and went straight through my lungs. It was harder to breathe than any other day I've lived through., what went wrong?! Was is the lack of nicotine and your developing gum disease? the burning end of the cigarette stop burning when it got to the filter. Lose your filter. Lose the people the make you burn out. Lose your girlfriend. Lose your love. Lose everything. Loss anything. Never let yourself burn out. You are not a cigarette. You a god damn human. You are an amazing human. Come back. You understand the world and you get that it's okay to be sad. No matter how hard you try you will always be the sane one. You will always be the one who understands the difference between sadness and bitchiness. You are not a cigarette. You are more than this, so start acting like it.
October/November 2014
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6. |
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I gave you everything, but I watched as you burned my body to the groud.
You said unconditional.
All I got was superficial.
I don't need you
I never needed you
I don't need you
January 2015
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Naked Hymns Indianapolis, Indiana
I am Rosalie, 18 years old. My friend Shannon once describe me as “someone with a lot of ideas”, which is the most accurate synopsis of myself I have ever heard. I am inspired by the world around me daily and feel the need to create based on experiences and people I encounter. The best way to reach me is my email, rosalieadamshhs@gmail.com I would love to colab or be friends! ... more
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Reily lives, breathes, writes. The poetry is very really and raw. Plus they are a dank friendo!
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This poetry speaks to me! I love Rudy. My favorite pome on this album is Audacity to Breathe or Love poem Melody
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