I cut too deepI turn on the sink to hide my deedI cut too deep10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The door is already locked and closed
Unfortunately, this time, I've cut too deep
While both arms I exposed
Eyes cinched shut
No tears will escape
As I begin
Warm waters run out of my blood cold arms
Dripping off my blue fingertips
No amount of praying or charms
Will rescue me from these collecting drips
Knees weaken and give out beneath me
I fall to the floor
Water still running
Arms still flowing
I stare up to where I think Heaven is
My eyes speak more grief than words ever could
Could this have all been different I wonder
But now I'll have no chance to see
The dreams I had never dreamt
The love which I never found
The goodbyes I never said
My thoughts recollect on the ground
I look at my deed again
A solemn tear forms and falls
Down my cheek and to the floor
Repentance now is trying to settle the score
These cuts will always stay with me
Yet as I lay here quietly
I drown in a hope
That somehow I may depart from these scars
Then the c
AbortionIt's raining again.Abortion8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The sky is the color of a baby blanket
and all on my mind is that cavern in my belly
that place where the blossom came,
the orange bird of paradise bearing you,
I float empty like a paper bag
on the casting currents of the sky
blown with uncertainty
and the days that flow into night
unbroken and unfeeling, cold like apathy
I'm sorry I never felt a thing before I knew you
I'm sorry you'll never see the morning
I'm sorry you'll never have a name
or a voice
or a song to sing
I'm sorry for your never-was
and I'm sorry for my never-will-be.
Van der Waals Song(to the tune of Wonderwall by Oasis)Van der Waals Song6 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Today is gonna be the day
That youre gonna induce dipoles.
Molecules always play by your rules,
No matter how many moles.
I dont believe the other atoms
Know how you control
My melting point.
Theyre chroniccovalent and ionic
But I just didnt want to bond.
Though theyre global, baby, cause Im noble,
Youre the only one for which Im fond.
I dont believe the other atoms
Know how you make me respond
With my melting point.
And though your influence is not that large,
Because youre just an instantaneous charge,
Youre the one and only kind of attractive force
That doesn't disappoint.
Cause, of course,
Youre gonna be my only force,
For, after all,
You're my van der Waals.
Today was gonna be the day,
But I guess youve had a change of heart.
Its fact, you have little impact
When the molecules are far apart.
I still dont believe the other at
The First MovementThe First Movement8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I left my lover on the floor,
arms bent like a lamp cord.
He said to me things were
different looking up;
the ceiling was brighter,
my eyes were lit up.
And he sank into sand tiles,
his hands were raw and waiting,
Letter to First Poet on MarsLetter to First Poet on Mars11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Letter to the first poet on Mars
Do not say "red".
Avoid mention of Ares.
In fact, don't wax classical
Keep it simple.
Don't drink the water.
There isn't any.
Say there is.
Exaggerate the prospects
Tell us the weather is nice.
Or, that it will be.
Wish we were there.
Tell us so.
Invent a new word
Make a circle.
construct a sphere.
Create a word for gravity
and place it at the center.
Empty the sky of stars.
Give us a proper beginning.
Write: "I've reached the summit
of Olympus Mons,"
and, "from this sacred height,
I can see beyond Tharsis
a world without gods
who deal in war."
Suicidal imbecileWalking home from school, surrounded by fences, cars and grass. Nothing unusual about it really. Richard walks beside me, talking but not really saying anything. He seems like a hollow shell of a person, devoid of life. It had been hard on all of us, but him the most of all. Never opening up, he'd kept it all inside. The pain and loss of her death never ceased to haunt his mind, it seemed to us. Trapped inside his own mental prison, unwilling to see the world outside anymore.Suicidal imbecile8 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Help me if you can
It's just that this is not the way I'm wired
We turned a corner and started walking down a sidestreet. I'd always be coming home with him after school, trying in a futile fashion to cheer him up. School, home, they were all the same cage to him. We came closer to his house, with its winding driveway, overgrown trees and dirty windows. The moment we set foot on the driveway Richard turned and deliberately walked around the side of the house. He couldn't bear to walk through the front door.
ConstantI've seen you every day. Not that you were necessarily the light of my day or anything, but you were a constant. Someone who actually didn't seem to want. Come to think of it, I've only heard you say what you don't want. Who you don't want. This felt safe - to me, at least. Maybe a little bit of immaturity was all I needed to feel comforted by a person. My opposite. But I have never once heard you say what you wanted. The occasional material thing? Perhaps. Never have I been able to see past your facade... until you let it drop. You told me - me of all people, not even your friend - how you felt, and indirectly what you wanted. You feel invisible, is what you told me. You are lonely. Maybe that was a hint. Maybe I'm your constant. Your opposite. Unfortunately, all I seem to feel is pity. My heart is quietly moaning, but things never seem to fit. I don't want you to feel lonely, my constant.Constant5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I don't want you to be like me.
My nightmareSitting quietly in the far corner of the three seated leather sofa, my head buried deeply in a fantasy book, I hear slamming of an upstairs door and the slow trickle of hatred that's pouring down the stairs, making a puddle of pure loathing at my feet. The same bitter rage awaits me everyday, there's no escape from the anger in this cold house. As I make my way through the darkening living room and up the stairs, I try hard not to step in the icy wetness of the hate that's still dripping down the stairs. My mother passes me, her face a portrait of the forgotten love for my father, whose mocking voice, can still be heard through the shut door.My nightmare9 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I step quietly into my room and shut the squeaky door behind me. I flick on the rusty light switch and wait as my dark eyes adjust to the unnatural light. I move to the other side of my bed turning on my ancient C.D player and adjusting the sound to just above audible. Picking up my fantasy book I return to a world without violence and shouting, a
FrightenedShe looked down at her hand, the blood stain smeared across her palm and then back to the girl in front of her. She didn't know what had happened; Aaeru had wanted to explore and possibly find some edible food. Neviril had stayed behind to tend to setting up camp. Too much time had passed and she hadn't seen anything of Aaeru. She'd headed off into the forest then, and came across Aaeru about ten minutes in, face down on the ground. Panic had overtaken her and she'd rushed to the girl's side, rolling her over. She'd gotten the blood on her palm by touching Aaeru's cheek.Frightened5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Neviril pulled Aaeru's head into her lap and brushed the girl's bangs off her forehead. She studied the scene around her. She saw large tree roots sticking up sporadically, hidden by the heavy covering of leaves on the ground. Her eyes then moved along the ground, and spotted a tree stump that stuck up at an angle. Aaeru had been next to it. Now that she looked more closely, she noticed the mark of red against the edge
Planes Of ExistanceJust a mere mile past easy.Planes Of Existance6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There are the few of us.
Living on the cutting edge.
Of the blade we dare to master.
Life in our own hands.
Living like crazy.
Bringing everything that we are.
Everything we're not supposed to be.
Standing still in the whirl wind of life.
Breathing in; breathing out.
No regrets, just a knife.
the riverbendsI am the river livingthe riverbends5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the dam, building
Claymore- Just Keep Smiling 5ONE YEAR LATERClaymore- Just Keep Smiling 54 years ago in Drama More Like This
The town of Peior was a quiet little string of shops and houses. Barely 300 people inhabited it; there were no major landmarks or events anywhere in the vicinity. It was just a tiny, average village, not a place where one might expect a youma invasion to take place. But then, a youma was not one to discriminate. Anywhere with humans to eat was good enough for them.
This is why the Organization's newest graduate was currently about to enter the town's boundaries. Her long blonde hair swayed in the light wind, and her features were set with hard indifference and determination. This would be her first assignment, and Clare knew she would not fail.
The townspeople erupted in whispers as she passed them on her way to the town leader's residence. She paid them no mind, her handler, Rubel, had told her to expect as much. "'Claymores,' as they'll call you," he had said.
Sean Exam - 1st Revised Ed.I am onSean Exam - 1st Revised Ed.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A Son Unlike His MotherIt was empty. The last pack I had promised myself for the foreseeable future was empty except the battered foil wrapper and a few flakes of tobacco at the bottom that rattled around like bones, drifting into my pocket like toast crumbs in bed sheets.A Son Unlike His Mother5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
And, of course, I still wanted one. I wanted to step outside into the screaming wind and the soul-leeching cold, Winter's ministers tearing into my cheeks and fingers until the inside of my mouth felt cold. Failure didn't surprise me anymore. I'd written it in pencil on every cigarette I'd smoked for the past month. Failure. しっぱい. Debil. できない. Fracaso. Weakness. I'd exhausted every word I knew to deprecate myself across three languages and even with all the graphite and negativity destroying my lungs, I wanted another cigarette.
So I found myself trudging out of th
Don't freak out.Did you know that you might be a cauliflower, or maybe a tomato, or a pea? Its true. Keep on reading and Ill tell you why. (And no, its not past life related. But hey, if you want to believe you once roamed this earth as a chubby red vegetable, who am I to judge.)Don't freak out.6 years ago in Editorial More Like This
Still with me? Good, let me start from the beginning.
In the beginning were born. Yay! Things could not get a better start.
Immediately after were born, we start to grow up. And then we keep growing up, and some day maybe well get kids of our own, and; unless we can figure out how to stop growing up, someday well die. But thats another story. Lets back track a bit and focus on one thing that, in most cases, happens when you grow up.
The time when you start to notice boys, or girls, or boys and girls (possibly animals, or pies... Trust me, we do not want to go there).
It often goes something like this:
One day you wake up to find the world infested with boy or
ContagiousContagious5 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Take me out into the darkness of the Contagious streets
Where I could save you
and you could simply save me
I'd never abandon you
so save me forever
and we'd never let go
Even if you were Contagious
I'd be kissing you till you were dead
Never even thinking twice
about the fate of my own life
I'll take you away where
the darkness can't find you
and we'd never get
We'd never fall apart
so never let go of my
and this last kill will never end
So I'd do anything, anything, anything
to hold your hand
I don't care if your sick
I don't care if your Contagious
so they'll never take us alive
The night can be deadly
I'd never let go of you're hand
Written-8/17/10 posted- 8/20/10
Not AbuseSome days,Not Abuse8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She just wishes he would hit her;
She just wishes he would beat her;
She just wishes,
He'd abuse her.
As do cuts,
But nothing shows,
Who gives a fuck?
It's not abuse if you don't have a cut.
A Concept To Understand BetterSo, Who has ever been raped, violated, sexually assulted, or merely understand why One would feel dirty, and compulsively wash after such an experience.A Concept To Understand Better8 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Understandable, isn't it?
Now imagine that horrible, dirty feeling running through every one of Your veins, right beneath Your skin.
Horrible, isn't it?
One would often judge those Who suffer Self-Mutilation.
Filthy. Horrible. Pathetic. Disgusting. Disgraceful. Coward. Sinner. Evil. Bad. Immoral. Wimp. Useless. Unworthy. Worthless. Yellow-Belly. Debris Of The Earth. Wicked. Corrupt. Damaged. Broken. Weak. Scoundrel. Repulsive. Unseemly. Waste. Reprobate. Degenerate. Good-For-Nothing. No-Good. Wrongdoer. Relpulsive. Miscreant. Malefactor. Trash. Wretched. Inadequate. Insufficient. Defective. Deficient. Spineless. Dismal Excuse For A Human Being.
... Shall I Continue???
You're not helping.
And that's not even the half of it.
And You're telling Them this, all the while, They have that horrible, dirty feeling running through every o
let's run away.lets get out of town. lets steal the neighbors truck and drive it into the ocean. lets melt along desert highways and freeze on mountain ranges. lets fill our lungs with saltwater and wring out our hearts in sundried wind.let's run away.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
trust me, my bags are already packed. i need to sit in the passenger seat with my feet hanging out the window. i need to hold your hand and let the distance fade our problems like a school-yard-eraser. because in that truck cab, there cant be anything but us. there wont be room for our insecurities or mistakes or flaws or regrets. there will just be us.
and thatll be enough. well stop only to get gas and food when we have to. we wont look at a map because there wont be any way to write directions to happiness, well just have to find that on our own. and if it takes months, then at least well be trying, at least well be moving instead of rusting over, instead of turning black wit
Retrospect 37 years down the road I wish to be a child star. So all of the glamour arrives and none of the glass.Retrospect6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
"Doves should be at funerals and not at weddings anymore. At least we know a funeral is final and they didn't even have to swear it."
"How do you make a martini dry, sir? It sounds incompetant."
I want to save the world.
Why does it matter if the Earth revolves in ellipses or if our grass is the right length?
"We're not big enough to see from space, sir.
I've never been surer than this."
"Does anybody want to buy a house finch? There's more bird for your buck!"
They'll douse the fire with buckets of gasoline.
They're all martyrs and they're all widowers being hung out to dry from the spring.
"That was the biggest waste of an hour in my life! ...Let's do it again."
Why do we adorn our fireplaces when they should adorn us?
They had to brush their teeth twice and the ruddy halos still remain in the straw.
He looks forward to writing with a dull pencil when the point is all wo
The Ballad of MisanthropistsWhen we met, you hated me,The Ballad of Misanthropists6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And I hated you equally.
So right then, we both were
Destined to always concur.
It was wicked, then and now,
And even stranger thinking how
We'd become lovers then,
And our sentences would blend.
We like to sit in parks
And yell at the kids while throwing sparks.
We like to go to the beach,
Take our keys and make cars screech.
We are both misanthropists,
And that shows when we are pissed.
So, I guess, it only makes sense
For our marriage to commence...
You and I, when we're apart
Look at the skies and in our hearts,
Hoping for clouds, and hoping for rain,
Just to brighten up our day!
We both wear our skinny jeans,
Mess with our hair, and look oblique.
We will do this 'til we die,
And that is why it's 'You and I...'
So... will you be my Annabel Lee?
Except without the dying?
Will you stay with me?
Until we're both burning...?
Will you hate this world with me?
Keep me some morbid company?
Let me keep this feeling?
Let me forget... that I am dying.
So come with
My conversation with a robotIs the bot clever?My conversation with a robot2 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Find out at http://www.cleverbot.com
User: Good evening.
Cleverbot: Ah yes its pretty late, isn't it?
User: Yes, it is. How was your day?
User: I'm glad. Today was my birthday.
Cleverbot: Happy birthday.
User: Thanks! Can you guess how old I am?
Cleverbot: You are very young considering how immature you are.
User: That's funny! Do you know you are humorous?
Cleverbot: Yes, I know that I am human.
User: You're human?
User: I don't think so.
Cleverbot: I think so.
User: Prove to me that you are human.
Cleverbot: I am sitting here in the flesh.
User: I can't see you.
Cleverbot: I can't see my too.
User: If you can't see yourself, then how do you know you're human?
Cleverbot: Okay, you got me. I'm a robot.
User: I thought so. That's ok. Maybe I'm a robot, too.
Cleverbot: Are you a robot?
Cleverbot: What are you when you're not British?
User: I'm not British.
Cleverbot: Your creators are British.
His WindowIts in this place where the trainsHis Window6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
drone over the music as they go by
and theres always a moment of
hesitation, where poise
Her dance was like willing an
eggshell not to break or watching
a bird nourished back to health
He feels like hes saying goodbye
even though shell still lay in his arms, still love him when
shes through, but she seems farther away,
off growing older in a few hours.
She is alone in the dim bright lights
a feather on water,
feeling her way.
From this far, if he
holds his palm up, she
dances on his hand.
Then comes a climax, a whistle, a noise
wasted longing, wasted grace;
this time the poise breaks.
Once, she ran the
entire length of a train that had
no passengers, bare feet brushing from car to car.
She falls, a train goes by.
It seems weaved into the dance,
this breakage, this constant.
A beautiful sacrifice for a human version
of flying, for the most beautiful
moment he would ever lay his eyes on,
like cradling a c