Random Poetry Scribbles

Just wrote these down. They are unedited and suck, but it's an idea of my writing. These were from random prompts I got at Loser Slam.

1. You are an exit wound
A reminder of misfortune come to pass
The awkward girl wearing shirts
long enough to hide her knee caps
but refusing to wear a dress.
The boy crying over the loss
of his cancerous Grandmother.
A black umbrella opens in my chest
If only to shield from the remembrances
What had passed
The scent of oversprayed perfume
In a closed apartment room.

The good part about living in your car?
The air tastes of pollution and dirty laundry
And I have never been here before -
for once, I don't need Lithium
And I am at ease
I don't know how old I was
when the music stopped
And I woke to static
When I tripped over morning light and stumbled down cells
Time has become meaningless
And I wonder why you allow this bum to occupy your SUV

You always woke up swinging
I wonder if you felt empathetic with me
and blamed yourself for making ready my pendulum
Darling, I was swinging before I even met you
You were just there to watch it fall.

It was supposed to be a summer of love
It was - just, not for you
15 years later and broken in a sewer
Gripping with the life I had lost
Pink pills and broken promises
Remember, remember, remember...

Monsters... don't live under the bed anymore
But in every shadow
Up every tree
In the head lights of every car that passes my way
Honey, I am numb to you
Numb to your regretful eyes that fail in relaying apologies,
Hands that untangle my knotted hair
And deadened to lips that tearfully whisper apologies
From 15 years ago.

2. She is the sand and yet unseen
You don't notice her
Her head is just another stone
Legs just two more pillars of soil
I am relieved you don't realize I dream of her
When in your bed
Feel our connection when you beat me down -
to you, her chocolate eyes are just two more shadows wandering where they don't belong
They comfort me.
Only to her will I surrender
Her skin may be the shade of Filth
But her tongue is legions more fertile than the desert in your mouth.
With her kisses
I can finally breathe.
Her fingers excite my ever nerve like a carpet filled with static,
you have only ever tried to hold me in place.

She needs me
but in a way unlike a child desperately groping for his property.

You are a wasteland
And I no longer with to see our ruins.