She Lit the Green FlameI am a vortex
chaos colored in a void--
I am deconstruction
with each board wrenched enjoyed--
I struggle to explain to you,
I am undefined.
and across my blaze of open view
not one thing is more fearfully divine
than the moment that two beings intertwine
the back-bend soft-scent songs of human skin
to me hold the miracle
of the bloodwine in your chalice,
I say this wide-eyed as a newborn
far too far for judgement, shame
and humble as I stand before
the soil I will become,
the earth that gives,
I fingerpaint this floor
with fingers green from loving everything
ElectrolytesI can raise my hands into the skyElectrolytes5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And scoop down a fistful of cotton clouds
That've lusted in the thunder
And turned an ink black;
I want to pick out strings of white lightning,
Put them in a syringe
And inject volts into my veins.
Never Seen a Real Night SkyDo you ever think that maybe, just maybe, you and I aren't quite where we're supposed to be? Maybe there's more to us than drunken nights and Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. Maybe there's more to life than silly stringing and too-late nights and falling head-first into the darkness of your more-than-mischief. I let you drag me along, just to feel the rough skin of your palm against mine.Never Seen a Real Night Sky5 years ago in Teen More Like This
You've always been too lazy. Looking for the easy way out, the easy way in, is not really all that becoming of you. But the cologne you wear is intoxicating, and your hands in my hair always send shivers of fear up my spine. Love? Fear? It's all the same, really. It's nothing more than adrenaline. You always leave me breathless and so much prettier in black and blue.
I wonder what you'd say if you found all these pretty words I keep tucked away, sealed in my heart and stuffed in the worn pockets of your old jacket. You never wear it, anyway, unless you really have nothing else around. Then you'll shrug
FearWithin this place, as you lie awakeFear5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You begin to realize your mistake
Darkness surrounds you, you are not alone
Everything you thought is now unknown
Your fears come to life, denying you sleep
Sanity becomes almost too hard to keep
But you hold on, it subsides
You're just happy you're alive
Another night, another day
Hope for tomorrow it will go away
AbyssHey, why do you run away? Hey, why are you afraid?Abyss5 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Don't let me frighten you; come here, enlighten me
Hey, why don't you understand? Hey, my head is full of sand
I am crumbling slowly; it's my humbling disease
Nothing's wrong; nothing's right
Step now closer into the light
If you stare, do beware
Reality is never a pretty sight
Hey, tears from a callous heart. Hey, years I've ripped apart
Don't fall into my abyss; I've come too far to become this
Nothing's wrong; nothing's right
Step now closer into the light
If you stare, do beware
Reality is never a pretty sight
So stands a man on the back of his hand
Regretting directions he never wrote
His freedom guaranteed
Why would he need a heart?
So stands a man who never knew before...
Hey, why don't you hurt me again? Hey, why don't you understand?
My apathy is yours and you will leave me to die
Nothing's wrong; nothing's right
Step away and say goodnight
If you care, please do share
Your message of love to my brain
So stands a man on the ba
With or Without Your WingsI remember those days, way back when. You used to pretend that I was your princess, and I treated you in kind, like the prince you were. You were my fairytale, my imagination, my past, present, and future.With or Without Your Wings5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Well, maybe not my future. You might just be too larger-than-little-town-life to really stay here with me.
You always struck me as a city person, heart and soul. I can just see you there, surrounded by neon-bright lights and sugar-coated starlets and dreams bigger than I could ever be. And yet those cities still won't be able to keep you, because there's nothing quite big enough to blot out your light.
Or maybe you're just a small town kid, whose dreams outweigh his ambition.
I guess I can't really say, I'm not sure I remember the real you all that well anymore. Mom says I have too much imagination in too little reality.
I guess I fell in love with your Prince Charming, before Prince Charming grew out of you. You grew up, I guess, and there's really not all that much left
ConsumedSmoldering, over the horizon-Consumed5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
staggered steps are being had.
It perches upon the mountain top,
excreting a pungent aroma;
waiting for the time to initiate.
Quickly the siren wails-
the engine exhales a poisonous fog;
it starts down into the valley,
it's prodigious iron mouth held agape,
devouring all in its tracks-
scorching every manifestation.
Looking down into this valley,
you'd see no disarray,
but the dismal truth lingers in the air:
in the smallest of places
we see to be average,
there always lies despair.
BattlefieldIt's probably sick that I have such an addiction to you, but I can't find it in myself to care. Your attention is something that I bathe in. I let it run under skin and catch between vertebrae, warm and heavy. It is the coat you cannot put over my shoulders, the wisp of hair you cannot brush from my face, the question you cannot answer.Battlefield4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
My spine has become a staircase for you, molded by the treading of your continuous feet. It's becoming soft and it's caving in, and the butterfly nerves in my fingers just can't stand you anymore. They're itching to make you fly away. I never used to think thoughts like these, thoughts that I would be ashamed to confess. But, damn, when it comes to you? I have nothing left to hide.
Your skin went flaxen some days ago, your hair mussed, your fingers calloused and dry. I think I'm the only one who noticed. But when your fireworks erupt, I will be there to watch the sparks fade.
Enchanted EveningsFeet are numb and nose is coldEnchanted Evenings5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Cheeks are red and lips all cut
Yet hands join in this, so bold
Vow we made without a 'but'.
Grand it felt the moonlight's glint
On our skin so roughly stripped
Of its warmth and mundane hint
When we danced and often tripped.
Oh we ran and sure we fell
Ah we laughed at hearts' content
And we cried a bit as well
For it was both souls' intent.
And a song within your heart
A known voice inside my chest
Glorified it played its part
As a ghost with noble vest.
Yes we heard, long we sang
Free from heaven and from hell
Oh and here around it rang
But it all the trees will swell.
And the sweetest thing has been
Falling under senses' defeat
For our hearts had never seen
Such display of life and wit.
Then it was sunlight who lay
our bodies to their rest
For like this next time we may
start from here at our best.
treesif realize that everything is the same matter, and you stop distinguishing objects from one another as you normally would,trees5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
then bring yourself down to the level of all matter,
you realize that your thoughts are just a grouping of thoughts.
if you can stop identifying with them, you see yourself as the same thing as everything around you.
if there is no longer a reason to identify yourself with your body, why not say that you are everything?
looking out the window
at the trees, grass, flowers,
then realizing you are all essentially one,
you can become them.
the leaves on a tree, the flower petals, the dead ones on the ground, the dirt they grow in and decay into.
the same things you and i are made of.
the only meaning we have left of "i" is our thoughts; the only thing we ever truly were.
when we stop being our thoughts, when we do not identify as them, we can let everything be, and all is perfect the way it is.
we must realize our thoughts are not permanent; nothing is permanent, so th
Still Freshmen After AllI hope you read this someday.Still Freshmen After All5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Not today. Not tomorrow. Not even this year. I want you to read this 30 years from now, when you're broken and sobbing and kicking yourself for making such a stupid decision. I want you to go up to your attic, dust this off, and remember.
I want you to remember me for who I really was. Not the fun, crazy girl who spent her time trying to convince others that she was okay, that she didn't care what everyone else thought. I want you to remember how she was always looking down when she walked, how she was always so guarded with her words and, for such a long time, only wanted to share them with you. You, who could be found at the center of every single one of her words.
Thirty years from now, her words may still be about you, on occasion. They'll be words of fondness, love, and a touch of the regret that plagues her now.
Because if she had changed just one minute all those years ago, her world would have become a different place.
So, she wants to
waitinghe spends his days chasing seagulls and singing to the songs in his headphones. he dances when he should be working and works when he should be laughing, but his eyes are the same shade as his hair in the morning and he knows who he is. he knows that rain is cliched but he doesn't want it for love or dancing or sorrow, he wants it for the way it flattens the clothes to his skin and the way it makes the leaves vibrant against withered clouds. he thinks in poetry and dreams in black and white, but he speaks of hope even though he knows how messed up the world is. he is still waiting for his second chance; he is still waiting for a reason; he is still waiting for someone to prove him wrong.waiting5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
she wears long skirts and ribbons in her hair, and smiles because she knows it makes them happy. but she feels more deeply than anyone knows and sometimes she can't understand why the world insists on turning. she soaks up rainwater through porous skin, but she loves the sun because it can be ever
Un-Imagine MeWhen I think of little kids I think of happy things. Perfectly swirled pencil shavings and feeling like you're flying when you go down the slide. I think of sidewalk chalk. I think of you. Innocent. You always tell me there's a whole world out there, waiting for us. Waiting for you. I'm not nearly as sure about that as you are.Un-Imagine Me5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
(I just worry that when reality hits you will be horribly disappointed.)
I wonder sometimes if it's right for me to be sitting here next to you. I don't remember being a kid. I never liked going down the slide- "too fast," I would whimper. I've never been anything more than crumpled metal soda cans and hard garage floors and broken imaginations gathering dust in the corner.
(Drag that sidewalk chalk across my skin, please.)
next thing we're touchingyou put the moon out with your cigarette as everything around you began to dim. you stirred the stars around as your body swayed against the porch lights, as you lifted the twenty-sixer to your lips.next thing we're touching5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you turned to me and said, "lets show this world what we're made of."
lets fuckin' show them.
we had our first kiss right there.
honest to god,
i'm not colour-blind, i just see colourless colour
i'm not starry-eyed, i just reached out and tore the sky down the middle
i still remember the salt strewned in the air as we fucked on the shore. it was one of those days where there was a lulling silence, a silence so serene it was like you weren't there. the only sound that spun down my eardrums was the slow rotation of the world and your vocal chords whispering out hoarse i love yous. your eyes drowned my vision and roared like waves passed my eyelids
that was when i knew
as our clothes stuck to our ribcages
and drops of water hugged our hearts
we'd fuckin' show the
Fire Bugi'm mesmerized by dancing sparks thatFire Bug6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
waltz up a path of gasoline, and suck
the air i breathe away. the heat is comforting,
and the smell of poison brings me to peace.
the screams are music to deaf ears, and
my eyes are vibrant with the sight of
curling steel. My satisfaction is laid out
by the sunset background of flames.
held up by destruction; the ashes
slide through my delicate hands, and i begin
to understand it all. fire is just inspiration,
that got out of control.
BluestrongI am told by Autumn's weatherBluestrong5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to respect my sleep in the branches
and that hours are wasted
on Summer's warm nights
We are art only
when the wind chills
when the sprout breaks--
the light of the fire
will number the days
Give Me HopeShe was the girl with the water-logged ears and the muddled eyes, always squinting against the sunlight. She was the girl who told him that it wasn't that hard to swim, that he just had to jump in and do it. Ignore the obstacles; if you turn this way or the other, they won't be there anymore, she said. She also said she could find it in herself to fight the obstacles for him, if need be.Give Me Hope5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Now, which one is the lie?
He was the boy with the calloused fingers that somehow always seemed to be wrapped around hers, and every once in a while he would press his forehead to hers. To shade you from the sunlight, he said. He said that he loved her, and she would never have to fight thos
Ithe way you move isI5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
shaken up and whipped
to the ground
we're watching explosions
on the stustustuttering television
using household things
maybe i could make
some money if
i filmed you
walking down our halls
the girls will call
s t r u c t i l i c i o u s
over their mouths
wishing to be
pie [broken] ces
hot like firecrackers
you want to
with raspberry jam
how it feels to drown.and now here i am,how it feels to drown.5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
lying facedown on the shore,
tossing and turning,
trailing on the breeze,
plunging down like silver whales,
and you - you are breath.
so i throw my words
into the deepest of seas
but the salt water,
it cannot heal me
in the lovely way you do.
(and i can't let go.)
In Veritate et CaritateI never knew my skin could empty itself out for youIn Veritate et Caritate6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
or that my nervous system could crackle with lightning
electricity short-circuiting my veins.
I never knew that love could taste like honey,
that I could chart your nearness with eyes shut tight,
my shoulder hollow and aching without your cheek pressed close.
I never knew hearts can stutter and stop
at the waterfall of a guitar playing under flickering porch lights
or that "friendship" could be such a frustrating word.
I never figured out your secret,
not even when you told me in our own special code of half-laughs and sideways-glances.
You had to pour yourself into my eyes
and hold my hand like a bird with clipped wings -
regardless, you couldn't look at me after you told me you were gay.
I did all the looking for you. I couldn't wrench my eyes away.
They say there's no wrong time to love, only a wrong way -
I humbly disagree.
I loved you too early, when my heart was still incubating
still encased in its brittle shell;
I loved you to
self-imagecan we tradeself-image5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
just for a while;
i want to see myself
the way you do.
NovemberMarch. It's March again. I'm lonely. I'm okay with it. I can feel myself slipping back into my nostalgia phase of sepia memories with orange highlights and blue undertones.November5 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
We're crossing the bridge. I feel like Daddy's little girl again. I have returned back home. Pushed, not ripped out of your arms. It's March again, and I'm feeling empty with no purpose; a cloud that doesn't float quite so high or carry enough rainwater for any real intention.
Look over the bridge. Remember the glittering rust piles? Right now I'm feeling the old urge returning back. The yearning to lay down among the rusted bits of metal, the dusted chips of broken glass, and decay quietly along with everything else here.
It's March again. The trees are painted impasto style, not quite brown nor green. Maybe leaves will bloom again. Maybe everything will want to be alive again. It's March and I'm okay. My brain is clogged with memories; March fourteenth, the morning after my life changed. I stood along the rust pil
UraniaSometimes she thinks she only looks like the sunUrania4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when she's smiling at the crooked moon,
one eye half-open
and the other fixed upon the trailing light
of twin twining celestial bodies
that set the world ablaze as they climb
to the zenith of their revolution.
The push-pin stars that press into her skin
form scattered braille hieroglyphics
that stretch from one side of infinity
to another, etching parabolic light-years
that never converge
and the universe is just virgin plaster
that can't stop bleeding as it flies apart
at the speed of eternity
because the galaxies are too weak
to hold their planets together anymore
and the sky is too thin to clot.
God is a blind man too,
a pale hand sifting through constellations and parting
the nebula clouds that blossom on her breast
like bruising supernovas, softly cradling
Midwestern Baptismal Fonts...Midwestern Baptismal Fonts are Called ThunderheadsMidwestern Baptismal Fonts...5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Stormll break tonight, and even our kids
rolled their hunger-sunken eyes at her,
but I didnt care enough to cuff them
for that insolence, because the storm
had been gathering for days above the cornfields
like a conscript army, and wed smelled
its gunpowder ozone all afternoon.
The scarecrows shivered in the fading light
and I surprised myself by pitying them;
when the time came, I at least could hide inside.
The wind picked up, spawning tiny whorls:
the short-lived dust devils danced in mockery,
embodying the drought of summer,
reveling in the heartbreak of too-late rain.
The advance companies of the storm,
blackened tufts of scouting cloud-stuff,
rallied overhead while the main column
swallowed all the western sky.
From the hazy blurring at ground level,
I knew it had begun to pillage Kansas City
and it would not be long, now, for us.
Come inside, John, but I ignored her
relying on som