Pink

I fake painted your nails once.

You wanted them yellow. 

And carefully I traced my fingers around each nail,

As we sat on a pale pink blanket. 

As the sky shone with new light,

As the clouds rolled over. 

I painted your nails yellow. 

An ant crawled across the pink blanket 

And your nails still wet,

You flicked it away

And you said don't kill it

Because it could feel pain.

And then I imagined the fake paint 

Splattered teardrops on the pink.

And then I laid down,

And let my body finally sink.

And I sighed without a sound.

Happy

Am I happy if you are? 

Or am I too selfish to put you in a jar,

On the shelf? 

I want to be happy for you cause you're finally happy with yourself. 

But still I wanna kiss you and have you for myself. 

I, I, I, I, I, all I really think about is myself.

My wants and my needs and my desires.

I should let you go,

And I should be happy cause you're happy.

But I'm not. I still can't get over myself loving you. 

I still want to feel your hands on mine,

But you rather hold hers.

And I wanna run my hands in your hair, but you rather her do so. 

Yeah, I still can't get over you. 

And it's stupid. 

But my heart is selfish and desperate.

And I can't help but believe that you in a very small way love me too. 

She wrote

Hearts on pink beds in front of pink curtains in a pink room

Dolls scattered on the floor, sunlight peeks through the window

She sleeps with a thumb in her mouth and a dream in her mind

Candy coated

Denim jacket, pink skirt, Barbie sneakers.

Beads up her wrists and sunglasses in her plastic hand bag

Hops into a car, jumps onto a train

And suddenly she’s on a plane.

Up in the air, she’s told where she’s going

It swoops past her, what could be more important

When her Chelsea doll’s necklace is missing?

5500km she flys

Hard candy to dark chocolate, it seems her life made a u-turn

From Barbie sneakers to New Look sandals, 

From plastic hand bag to fringe cross body

From dolls in her hand to music plugged in her ears

She lived so naive, so lost in her own hole

Surrounded by walls she built herself

Almost never bothered to look up at the clouds

Until she found herself flying in them again

Candy coating eroded off, hearts on her bed become uneven circles

Walls half smashed by her own fist

Lying, being the product of realisation

Of the reflection that lied before

And below furry coats and 6 inch heels,

Under the charm of misguiding idols,

Beneath the thick layers of mascara,

A young black hole

- Amelia Ismar

All in my head

The thing is I always get too attached and the only way I stop, temporarily, is when I try too hard and I hurt myself. But, I will always let you in again just because I think this time it'll be different and that it will not end up the same. I think and I know and I hope that you would love me like how I love you. But, you don't and I can't help feeling like you should, because my heart wants it to be true that you and me, were fucking meant to be, maybe I just don't go out enough or I haven't met the person for me yet. The crazy thing is I think I've already met him and it's you. Why do I fucking think that my love for the rest of my goddamn life is someone who doesn't even think so? Maybe I'm just a lonely sad person, and that the idea of you appeals to me. But the only reason you tread me along, is because it appeals to you to have an admirer, and yet I still hold that string with both hands.

Room

This is a room.

A closed room, with open doors.

There is a roof above and we stand on floors. 

There is us inside of the room, us three and a broom.

We should sweep up this shit. 

But me and him we don't, we don't touch the broom within the closed room. 

We pretend we aren't there and we move away from each other and we stand across the room with the broom. 

We stood apart. We split.

She took the broom and she got off her chair, inside the room. 

And she swept and swept the shit and the dust, as if she had a duty to do so, as if it was her task. 

And he saw and he took the broom away from her hands and they cleaned the room with the broom. 

And he was loving and kind and I stood there as I watched and my resilience when soft.

This is a room is still filled with shit.

And like it feels like it was the cause of unfortunate events why us three had to meet. 

He was the one who made the room shit. 

All I could say was, "fuck that's lit"

She is as lost as I am in the room,

She don't know what the fuck to do with the broom. 

We are stuck here in this room, and the doors aren't open anymore.

Wonder

Some days you still make me wonder and ponder,

And like for a brief and unexpected moment,

I catch myself daydreaming and my dark heart seems to grow fonder,

As I stroke your head as you lay down beside me on the bed, 

You make me want to catch this simple moment and make it frozen.

And let myself feel, forever chosen.

The sea was blue

The sea was blue

Because the sky was too.

A peculiar blue, both the two.

The waves and it's froth an icy white 

The clouds and their shapes and shadows

But only the waves and their foam crash against the glimmering sands,

While the white clouds soared above the endless sky. 

I was blue.

Because he was blue too.

A peculiar blue, us two.

I wavered and smashed myself against cliffs 

He moved forward and his clouds became grey. 

He stormed, flashes of lightning and rolls of thunder, pelted me, the sea, with water. 

He is now grey and I am grey too.

A murky grey, us two