I take one last hit off of a cigarette,closing my eyes slowly. Curled up on a couch with some of my closest friends. Laying against the boy I love yet he doesn't know. Opening my eyes to stare at the ceiling. "What are those?" He asked. Pointing to the incisions lining my arm. I stare into his eyes and begin telling the story behind each small line. "That's from when you told me you would give me a chance." "those are from the day you said you loved me then kissed my best friend."" This one was when you said we would be together, then got a new girlfriend, whom you're with now." I turn away, tears threatening to spill over. "And these, what are those?" He speaks in a barely audible whisper as he points to the small dots making a pattern on my leg." Those are the cigarettes I put out every time I smoked to calm myself from our heart wrenching fights." He looked at me, pain glossing his eyes. He lifts up my head and asks "why do you have all these feelings for me?" I laugh slightly as a warm stream of tears starts flowing down my flushed cheeks. "Feelings?" I ask. "What are those?"
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Hyacinths & Biscuits
PoetryCarl Sandburg once said "Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits." Enjoy this collection of poems, text messages, diary entries and more. Starting from age 15, and continuing to this day.
