A wonderful Zemyx storyThey had sexA wonderful Zemyx story7 years ago in General More Like This
untitled 12-24I wrote you a song but the lyrics were wrong and the bass was a stuttering heartbeatuntitled 12-245 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
I wrote you a song but my voice wasn't strong enough to make it to the coda- repeat.
If every chord was a sunset, each melody a flame, the world would still be quite cold
But if I could just scribble out the perfect refrain, it would give our hearts something to hold
The tempo is steady, an e flat vibration
in the darkness the harmony is the only sensation
this unsteady a cappella is all that I've got
and this mixed tape is saying everything that I'm not
If we could be couplets and rain on the roof
The music might touch us as deeply as truth
Not every artist paints scenes with a brush
And I'm learning that serenades shouldn't be rushed
I wrote you a song but the lyrics were wrong and the bass was a stuttering heartbeat
I wrote you a song but my voice wasn't strong enough to make it to the coda- repeat.
If everyone sang along, this guitar would be gold
Most music is money, written to
A Poet's FearWhen a poet loses their pen,A Poet's Fear2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
some think them out of their minds:
They become worn and ragged:
They become silent and fearsome.
But when the poet loses their voice,
A poet starves, a poet crumbles...
and it is like the Eiffel tower
comes crashing down;
into a million pieces.
gypsy heart.i am starting to find comfort ingypsy heart.1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
foreign sounds; tongues speak
in rhythmic, unknown comfort
& reassurance is merely the familiarity
i pop pills that the doctor prescribed
& pray for a miracle.
they say that you should always count
your blessings than your problems,
but would that really keep faith alive?
what have you got to hope for
if you have it all?
there is hope in a dark chamber of the veins
of this city; there is a heart beat
somewhere that's waiting to be found.
there is a gypsy heart with "home" imprinted
on her feet - & i wish i could find the same certainty
2am poetry (you're always the subject line)I wish that you were still here by my side2am poetry (you're always the subject line)1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
instead of nestled in between the lines of my 2am poetry
because you deserve a better home than that
your name sits fervently on my lips
because I hope that with a whisper of those 5 little letters
that I can pull you from within the inscriptions on my
tree trunk ribs like a magician
pulling a rabbit from his silken hat.
I want to feel your words breathing down my neck
and your hands pressed against my quivering spine
as I stand at the edge of indecision--
you made me fear the fight rather than the fall
and now I'm addicted to the
the feeling of your wind beneath my wings.
we were an odd couple of misfits but we fit together:
you as the harmony and I the melody of a song no one else heard;
too many times I spent playing our soundtrack on repeat
as I danced across my room spinning &&
humming in the cold shadows of my lonely nights.
I wish that you were still here by my side
instead of nestled in between the lines of my 2am poetry
because I dese
fortuna labilis.unui făt i se taie cordonul ombilical. cu acelaşi cuţit îşi crestează jugulara, la douăzeci şi cinci de ani. o copilă îşi sparge balonul în ţepii unui trandafir. toată frumuseţea devine greţoasă, are miros înţepător şi este orbitoare ca soarele pe zăpadă. oamenii orbesc şi se ucid, din dragoste, unul pe altul. omenirea merge invers şi rujul de pe buze devine cancer la pancreas. o ultimă ţigară în mâinile unui bătrân este o aripă spre iad.fortuna labilis.7 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
ne moare sufletul, zi de zi, îi aprindem lumânări, ca să-l zărească moartea în întuneric. totul se schimbă, deşertul este inundat de lacrimile cămilelor iar iarba creşte din cer spre pământ. patru actori stau în întuneric, pe podeaua prăfuită a unei scene. şi-au uitat scenariul vieţii iar cr
9 Countenances for the Curious1.9 Countenances for the Curious6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
My limbs have become instruments,
but, unlike the piano of your memories,
I am still not anyone's to play.
I think I am finite,
that the limits of me are dictated
by flesh and numbers
on an inverted scale
but the dog on my lap
doesn't care what I weigh;
she wants only
to love me and be loved.
the pain that anchors you
strains your back,
the ship of your life
is hamstrung upon a reef
and you think you are watching
a dolphin at play
but siren songs deceive you.
my ship sank beneath the waters
years ago, this bubble of life
sustains me even as i drown:
there are storms in the depths
of me, and you see only
the ocean's calm.
At 7, I swallowed stories
like candy; didn't understand
that too much leaves you bloated.
At 17, I breakfasted on books
like pancakes; too caught up
to tell (some things should be special).
At 27, I feasted on fiction
like home-cooked meals; didn't know
some of it could poison you.
At 37, I hope I will be picking
at poetry; letting the flavours
of the words
SemicolonSelf-harm isn’t worth the pain later on…Semicolon1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Enough is enough when you finally think you should be gone.
Much of this world walks within those same torn shoes.
Incredible amounts of individuals plays the same blues.
—you don’t have to fight alone; we’re in this, too.
Caring: that’s what will be our cure
Of the invisible disease that has caused us to become insecure.
Loneliness will never have to exist anymore.
Our story is not over, for we battle through an agonizing war,
Never realizing we fight alongside soldiers
—whenever there’s a breaking point, you can cry on all our shoulders;
Please, Don’t Let Your
Navigation without a destinationand he has a cold shoulder and a hot temperNavigation without a destination3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am caught between two poles, a compass point
lost as to which is the way north, the way
home (he flips his axis more than his
hair and I just keep spinning).
PrologueS-Sir! Come quickly! She seems to be shutting down!Prologue6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Impossible! Was one of her files corrupted?!
No! Not that we know of! It seems to be that shes causing herself to self destruct
No! Thats impossible! She can only self destruct if we give the command! Unless ..no .She couldnt be committing suicide! Shes not human anymore!
Sir! Quickly! We have to stop this!
I I was human once
Or, at least something close to that.
I was created, not born. DNA of different humans and other creatures as well as artificial DNA mashed together until it went through the fazes and became what seemed to be a human child at first glance.
Or in other terms,
I was raised under constant supervision.
They preformed experiments on me. Most werent harmful.
They just wanted to see if I could show emotion or interact
stardustI am no beauty.stardust2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
my hips are too wide,
my skin has bumps and scars,
my thighs touch and
my hair is a bit messy.
but darling, I have a thousand worlds
and they're in my head.
and behind their cold glare,
my eyes hold a million stories.
my hands, aside from the shaking,
make music and art.
if you can look past my demons,
there are galaxies and stardust within me.
and if you gave me the time,
I can show you just how beautiful
I can really be
on the inside.
damaged goods.hearts don’t comedamaged goods.2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
with This Side Up stickers
and this metaphor is nearly
too worn-out for words ;
but I was bruised by the time
I landed on your doorstep, darling,
so every fight felt like
a forest fire, and every new compromise
tasted like cardboard ;
I had FRAGILE tattooed
all across my collarbones,
but that doesn’t mean
your hands were any less
vampire 1vampire 17 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
It was a dark night. A girl was in an alley. She was on the ground bleeding from being beaten by her father. She had gotten so tired of him that she ran away. A few minutes passed and she saw a man in the entrance of the dark damp alley way. The girl tried to see his face but all she saw was the outline of the body before her.
Dont be afraid, the unknown man said calmly. I will not hurt you.
The sound of his calm yet strong voice had lured her closer to him .The next thing she knew his mouth was pressed against her neck. The feeling of death was coming and she was happy that all the pain would fade away. Before he punctured those white fangs into her neck she said thank you. He was so surprised he stopped and looked at her.
What are you waiting for? she asked. Kill me. Please kill me!
Why would you throw your life away. What makes you want to die at such a young age? Please tell me before I kill you. Tell me so I wo
Korewhen they pass me byKore2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
i cannot help but thank aphrodite for
the miracle that
for we have stars embedded
in our flesh and hellfire
burning in our eyes. we are
immortal. we are infinite.
we are celestial. we are
the penumbras that rip into
your feeble heart and the golden
dreams that make you wish
that you had been born to
a different universe.
we are persephone;
we are hecate.
some days and
most nights, i close my
eyes and imagine her—
the girl whose tongue
tastes like poetry and whose lips
bless me with a thousand
and by all the goddesses,
was sappho right when she was
awed by her splendor.
What Rape Can't Tell YouHe parrots the word, over and over until it sticksWhat Rape Can't Tell You1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
Like the bruises on schoolchildren's hands, when they realize purple hurts more than red
While others mourn the translation lost in between
The definition he wrote
And what they want to scream to the world.
All you know is a word,
The hell hidden beneath it is nothing
But the trace of a memory that doesn't belong
To you, and you're so glad it isn't yours
Because then that pain can just be a word,
A beautiful illusion of pretend-this-doesn't-happen and
You deserve prettier words, better words, you think
Ones that stay silent, can be hidden across a page
Victimless and longer than the four letters they warn you about
You don't know how that word is strung
Or why they tie chords around their wrists
In protest, why the memories they drag are drugged and
Filthy with the crimes that can't be forgiven
You don't know how that syllable can hurt,
What it can do
You don't see the gashes in their organs
Or the fissures tha
Neglected MasochistYou say that you adore me, but I don't understandNeglected Masochist3 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Instead of fists you touch me with the gentlest of hands
Each stroke and pet so delicate, I suffer suffocation
Please choke out tears that spell my love, enforce humiliation
I crave your loving touch in ways I doubt you comprehend
How is it true affection if your nails don't break the skin?
Sweet nothings make me nauseous, offer promises of pain
True intimacy scares me, love, I'd rather take the cane
Wolven Master Prologue Pt 1Wolven Master Prologue Pt 17 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
She was running. Over bramble and briar, she lept, her thick, toned legs carrying her further and further from the monster she once called "Master". She could still hear his sharp, angry voice echoing in her head, the nightmares still vivid in her mind.
Many hot tears were stinging her eyes and staining her flushed cheeks as she ran and ran through the forest... her destination... unknown. All she knew was that she had been miserable and had been planning this escape for weeks.
She had left her pink, jeweled collar at his feet while he slept and had crept silently from the compound, undetected. Once she had reached the outer perimeter, all she could do was run. And, she now was still running an hour later.
The top of her foot suddenly hit an exposed root, taking her to the ground with great force as her speed had been fierce. She made contact with the fore
asylumI have lines to crossasylum6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and skeletons to shatter,
because halted mercy
resides in these hands.
But I will not
show mercy with you.
Today is painted
with pinstripes and broken
nails, it is when
you decide I am
good enough to be
But I made myself worse,
when I was with you.
For The Untapped WorthyYou think you're useless,For The Untapped Worthy5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
a burnt-black saucepan.
You think you're nothing, now,
but we'll drill some holes
through the rust--
we'll plant tall strands
of sunflowers & vetch,
and watch them bloom.
Oblivionyour hands clutch the steeringOblivion2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
wheel loosely as we speed
down the highway
while mine fidget in my lap
passively pulling at a loose
string on my shirt,
but we’re not thinking
about our hands or how fast
we’re racing down this road
because I have stars in my eyes and
you have stars in your mouth
and we're singing at the
top of our lungs as if
our lives depended upon it.
sitting here next to you everything
is starting to shift and that's
when I feel it—
as if I'm splintering into
a million pieces and then
being rebuilt by your
delicately calloused hands;
my world has narrowed to
this pinpoint moment
that’s shining with a
million different colors
and there's a reckless peace
that feels so right it
has to be
you have cornered me
in this infinite
oblivion and I'm not
quite sure what to do
because we're no longer
going 80 down a 55 and
I don't hear my best friend
spilling her heart out in
your back seat hell
I can't even feel my own
The FaceFace to face with GodThe Face1 month ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
I asked, “Why do I love death?”
He grinned, and I knew
30And when she opens her301 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
Wings with a rush of wind--
Unseen hands that carry away
Breathing coals into the soft of the night--
There is nix to wake me from her dream;
Crippled and frozen
In a spell unyielding.
Holds its breath
In the company of such.
HarborBon voyage, a ship has sailed, bright and shiny and new.Harbor3 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Wave your hats and break a glass to mark this sweet adieu.
On gentle winds, eager hands will guide 'er through the sea.
White sails soar and glisten far, all bold and mighty and free.
Voices cheer high and low with fanfares and delight.
High masts and polished bow; behold, such a sight.
May happy faces follow true wherever she may be,
and fair wind and following seas to places she will see.
But my smiles are to that old lady beside 'er grim and keen.
No glamour there all washed away and nothing to be seen.
But we're alike, old and battered, we've been through storm and hell.
It just depends on what you favor, dreams or stories to tell.