poetic_star's picture

Sea-glass and Valium

Icy raindrops slid down the collar of Darren’s shirt as he opened the door to his apartment complex and hurried inside, drying his feet on the welcome mat before sprinting up the staircase. The lobby was dimly lit as usual but he didn’t miss a step as he raced to number 203.

poetic_star's picture

firefly crimes

There was too much power
in the air when we met.
It tasted like salt and
stuff little boys are made of;
plastic yellow and blue cars,
candy wrappers and lined paper.
You wrapped a hand around
the back of my neck,
made me feel the warmth
of sex and freedom;
hard kisses under a streetlamp,
in front of a church
just for the sake of showing
how bad-ass we were.

Oh boy, what did I get myself into?
Another evening of misdemeanors with you,
burning scrapes on my spine,
pink t-shirts and car doors slamming as we
ran into the birthday glitter

poetic_star's picture


I think I swallowed your name that night in the bar.
I think you infected my veins while the music was
raging some 90s rock song and nobody was
paying attention to us as we ran to the back
room of this exile for tar-winged children.

And boy, now you're starving for some
sort of distraction in button-down lust;
a porn star type in DKNY jeans.
But I'm not one of those underground souls,
looking to lose consciousness
in pretty lashes and money-grabbing directors.
Honey, you can take a cab home because
I'm only here for the bottled-up affection
you said would never be mine

poetic_star's picture

do not go gentle

A door creaked open as I pulled on my coat in the foyer. My sister's voice echoed from the top of the stairs.
"Mike, can you stop by the drugstore? We're out of pain medicine."
I hated when Cara called me "Mike" because that's what our absent mother used to call me before she took off. But I couldn't be mean to her right then.
"Okay," I said as lightly as I could. "I'll stop there on my way to the club."
Before she could turn around, I called her name.
Cara froze on the fourth step and my heart sank when I noticed something like hopelessness in her aquamarine eyes.

poetic_star's picture

Southern Decadence

Bucketfuls of gosling rain pour down
on the neighbor lady's plants as
I fiddle with the rawhide bracelet
you gave me for good luck.
It's ironic because if there's
anyone drowning here, it's you,
struggling to breathe in
the notorious deep end.
And yet, my throat tightens
every time I see you holding hands
with the transfer student from Biloxi,
the one with sunny hair
and a cruel wasteland grin.

He knows I'm jealous
so he takes advantage of
the celebrations in
the French Quarter,
pulling you closer in
his noose and water embrace.
It's strange how you're so

poetic_star's picture

Honestly, Larkin

The antique gold leaves swirl eerily
in the courtyard and I find you sitting
alone on a stone bench near where
the children like to play cup and ball.
But they can't see you, Larkin.
I'm the only one aware of your presence.
Decades of being sneered at
have made you cold to most humans.
So it was shocking when you decided
to open a window and let me catch
a glimpse of the frightened boy inside.

You are a walking tragedy in dapper clothing;
all the misunderstood pieces
of Prince Charming's dark past coming to life
in the flickering gaze of your shamrock eyes.

poetic_star's picture

Raw Sugar

*warning: this is darker than my previous ones.*

- They told me you were a tease
with sunset streaks in your
gingerbread-tinted strands.
But your beautiful and damaged
grin took my breath away.
Whiskey cherries and overgrown
lawns created the perfect
mood for dancing and we
were seduced by the sexy
consequences of carefree
weekends and no supervision.

I hooked my fingers in the collar of your
preppy polo shirt as we stumbled into
the best drunken kiss that
made me feel invincible.
"Your lashes are amazingly long,"
you slurred against my neck.

poetic_star's picture

tight jeans and theatrical boys

I pull up in his dad's driveway and
the boy sitting on the stoop looks
like Saint Exupery's treasured little prince
with subtle stars smeared on his face and neck.
When he climbs inside my used Sentra,
I tell him about this quirky realization.
"You're both so cute and opinionated."
He grins and replies that it's his favorite book
to read when life is particularly rough.

Cappuccino sips and playful shoves
convert the evening into something
brilliantly unstable and devastatingly 'teenager'.
I want to kiss him violently so we can stop this
annoying game of cat and mouse.

Peregrine's picture

Dark Knight

this is the mental property of me: Shadow1992

kurst's picture

These Dark Waters

i wrote this a couple of months ago about some one who means everything to me although we aren't as close as we used to be and i don't see or speak to her much and just wanted to share it with people.

These Dark Waters
As I tread these dark waters once again, my mind in termoil, my heart breaks with the clouds over head and once again you appear.

Syndicate content