being gay or enjoying Impressionist art

sup y'all. it's charlie, your favorite mentally ill teenager writing mediocre poetry on this hellsite. welcome to charliesaurus1216. (I'm also known as @charlie-the-saurus, that's for normal posts and other reblogs)

My poems don't usually have titles, but the big text has descriptions. If a poem has something I think will be triggering, I'll put that in the title and put it under a cut. Otherwise, I try to tag things with trigger warnings as much as possible.

I use a lot of other tags too!!!! Namely:

#hiding my feelings behind my poems

#poems from my mind

#poetry about some guy <- (about my boyfriend)

#poetryabtme?

I'm very open to suggestions or criticism but be nice to me, okayyyy? No hate pleaseee this is a safe space for everyone.

If y'all are romance repulsed, a fair warning that I write very sappy poetry.

Sometimes I will also reblog poetry from other creators, feel free to check them out and spread the love for all forms of art and creative expression <3

Water in my lungs and water in my veins

And water above my head;

I know that even if you don’t love me,

This land will.

So tell me I’m untamed 

Because of my genetics:

But if you were raised to be docile,

Wouldn’t you be wild too?

There is unbound blood pumping in this heart:

My mother was stubborn like that.

Our family tree was the victim of a forest fire,

And I’m realizing it’s not your fault I grew up in ashes.

Dirt on my hands and dirt in my hair

And dirt beneath my knees;

I know that even if you don’t love me,

Maybe it’s because

I was on my knees in front of you

And you pretended like 

You didn’t know what was happening,

But I could’ve sworn I was invisible.

I have eyes. I can see what’s going on.

Part of this is delusion:

I’m like a neon sign 

Why is a burden always something to ‘bear’?

It’s not just something you carry,

From one place to another,

To drop and forget.

It’s something bigger

Than what you do with it:

The tip of the iceberg 

Melding with the waves, but there are 

Stories and stories more 

Stretching beneath the water.

Yes, you are burden, love,

But you are not something I bear.

I’m honored to ferry you across this raging river

From the bank of who I used to be 

To the shore of who you are helping me become.

What I’m trying to tell you, 

In far too many lines,

Is that synonyms are not the same.

A fracture is not the same as a break, 

And a break does not mean leaving forever.

So yes, you are a burden, love,

But you are not something I bear.

You’re like the weight of gravity:

We use lips to silence speaking,

Kissing just to make the conversation end

Because what are feelings 

If not fantasies to be fulfilled? 

We don’t have time to indulge - 

There are demons to outrun just around the corner.

It took so much more than time 

To convince us we were in love:

We wear our gods around our necks 

And still pretend we have no faith 

In happy endings.

Even fate is not forever, 

Stars may cross 

But they’re too far apart to touch.

It doesn’t scare me that you’re a fire – 

It’s just terrifying that I might have to live 

With the consequences of being burned.

It only hurts that everyone esle can see my heart-eyes 

While you’re out with someone else.

This isn’t water-skiing: 

I’m not being dragged along 

And of course I know how to swim; 

Maybe I’m just choosing not to,

Maybe I decided drowning is more fun.

You use your lips to silence my speaking

Kissing just to make the conversation end

Because what is love 

If not chemicals and electricity and silence?

We don’t have time to become something beautiful–

I know you see the way my eyes are glued to you,

Following you like a magnet to metal,

Because isn’t it obvious?

I think you like watching me drown,

Knowing your breath of air could save me. 

Isn’t that romantic:

You’ve left me so starved for attention

Everyone here can see my ribs

Through my thick skin.

What is all this tissue worth when

I can even feel your fingertips

Grasping my heart,

My heart and arms are always open

But this cold seeps through my skin

So now my heart is broken

And my hope is paper-thin.

I went driving in the rain

To see my divided country

I watched the water down the drain

As if the ground was hungry.

My silhouette stands, a stricken frame,

Dripping in sleet and blood.

You look and look for someone to blame,

But only find the freezing flood.

I’ve written poems, shattered hearts, and laid my feelings bare,

Déjà vu, anyone?

I hate to be here again.

The mind forgets, but the body remembers:

What it feels like to be unnatural,

To have so many different voices in my head.

Please, make it stop, I can’t stop.

I keep vacillating, oscillating,

Forgetting how to be single-faceted, clear-cut.

I’m glad no one is here to see me like this.

I wish someone was here to save me.

I’ve become all too effective at erasing memories:

I don’t remember how I’m supposed to survive this.

Is there any way to survive this?

How do I survive this?

Just shut up and fall back into the water.

No, please, I’ve forgotten how to swim, I’m drowning—

Sometimes it comes in waves

And sometimes it’s a riptide,

Sometimes I’m dying

And sometimes I’ve never felt more alive.

I turn the shower cold just to feel something

Or maybe to stop feeling so much.

Is this just what living is supposed to feel like?

This is the grave reminding me that I can keep running

You’ve been promising me for years

That we’ll get married someday.

And doesn’t that feel like the epitome of teenage love?

Promising things you can’t give

When you’re much too young to be considering things like that.

But then I remember I’m not supposed to believe everything you say,

I’m supposed to take your words with a whole shaker of salt,

Because out of all the boys on your front porch

History doesn’t change,

It just repeats.

It’s really the same story,

You just changed the names.

Did you think that by holding the pen

You could change the ending?

Originality is an anachronism -

A possession of the past

That has long been a myth -

So how could anything happen

That hasn’t already been written?

In fact, I think I’ve read this poem before

But I got onto this ship anyway

No one wants to be your friend unless you have a car or your parents credit card

No one wants to listen to you unless your lips look pretty when you’re talking

No one wants to compliment you unless you’ll let them drive you home

No one wants to leave you alone unless you learn not to be so fun to provoke

No one will laugh with you unless you learn to know when they’re laughing at you

No one talks to you at a party unless they’re trying to sell you something 

No one invites you to a party unless they trust you not to snitch about what they’re selling 

No one talks loudly around you unless they trust you not to ask any questions

No one will make space for you unless you make yourself smaller

No one will let you in unless you’re far too good at pretending to be something you’re not

You and I are poets,

My darling, and so we die

Like poetry: 

Painful and beautiful,

Slow, in stops and starts.

You and I are fighters,

My dear, and so we bleed

Blue venom: 

Just stand beside me until my

Blood begins to run red.

You and I are artists,

My angel, and so we breathe

In color:

Acrylics coat my lungs and my

Mouth tastes of paint.

You and I are lovers,

My heart, and so we live

In moments:

Kisses and stories and 

I am not a skeleton:

I am more than this scaffolding –

I am a self-made monument to living.

I am more than just a blueprint–

I am blemished and broken but still blooming.

I am more than the body you gave me–