writer's blockshe doesn't resemble an angel when d a n c i n g in the snow,writer's block2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
because the blizzard is seducing her in ways i could never approach.
she has become one with the eye of the storm, and i have been left to drown in the
the whirl pool of mortifcation, watching her indulge herself with the sounds of the wind.
I am no natural disaster- yet i am her shelter.
SeeingI look at this world we live in,Seeing4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Eyes filled with blindness
Seeing everything bright and brilliant....
Through a spectrum of monochrome.
you-the pulse, the resin,you-2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the elixir, the city
shrill under my skin.
maremare2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sometimes i feel like
i want to fly
but i know when i die
i'll wake up
I Never SaidI never said "You're here for my entertainment"I Never Said2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I only said "Will you play with me?"
I never said "do this" or "do that"
Instead I said "can you help me?"
I never said "I'm always right"
But asked "What's this?" and "What's that?
I never said "I hate you"
Instead, I told you "I love you"
I never said "You ruined my life"
Because, then, I knew how precious
life could be.
The BodyThe body lay in shimmering blood.The Body4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Flies; licking the pale white eyes, cleaning their plates.
The iris once flooded with color,
lightly bleached in the rays of the sun.
Mourning wanderers gather together, the lint of its life.
They show the missing fabric,
the colors it was once made of.
Concealing earth held it in cold loving arms
with maggots trailing up the fingers.
And they wound their way into, and out,
and into, and out, u
human.her mother used to look at her with earthen eyes - complete with the wrinkles webbing around the corners and lids, the brown of coffee grinds to the soft green of grass - place mouthed, familiar words to the world's foreign and tell her she could do whatever she needed, whatever she wanted, and all she needed to do was die for it.human.2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
the grind of the lead, the fingers with red knuckles and notebooks filled with scrawls - weeping words - could tell you everything alone: she wrote everyday, no doubt, so she could get better and better, decent and more decent, then - eventually - good. better than most, but still not good enough.
she was a little
selfishearthen toes, he saysselfish2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the branches to his soles
in his bones
sun's blare to corneas
i am the you
searching for you,
so turn me away
rip me out of
the lifespan of mayfliesshe whispers secrets into the trees;the lifespan of mayflies3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it's faint and hushed, but her voice leaks through thin tree veins.
branches seemingly enveloping her in the warmest embrace,
she knows they're always listening.
they shed their coats,
the cold wind kisses both her cheeks and ruffles her hair
leaves fall around her, soft footsteps on the soil.
with silent eyes and still lips, she watched the warmth seep out from the trees,
this sight, so fragile as the air froze before her fingertips.
she watches her friends die quietly,
and the colours swirl around her like wildfire.
gravitasi will scream your namegravitas2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
until my voice box
cannot even whisper
Would you?Would you?3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Would you still love me
When I grew old,
When my hair is gray
and white, thin?
When I no longer
Would you stay
by my side,
When I cannot recognise
who you are;
To remind me
each day, each hour
who you are
because I suffer from dementia?
Would you promise
to love me for who I am,
for who I will be in the future:
for better or for worse?
Holding OnSometimes...I feel,Holding On5 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
It's so hard to live today
Thoughts, emotions, wasted dreams,
Just seem to get in the way
And I catch myself thinking,
Do I have the strength
To face each day?
Sometimes I think too much...
I'm wondering, wandering,
Falling so far away
And yet I'm holding on,
To everyone, and everything,
That makes me who I am
Life is about living,
And never giving in
And when it seems that,
I am all alone,
Life is about...holding on
Just pour from me,
And I can't quench the flood
And it seems that no matter,
How much I write or say,
I just can't do enough
So I hold on to my words,
Be My MuseNever love a poet.Be My Muse3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Everything will mean..
so, so much more to them than it will
Never let a poet love you back.
They'll instill you with so much beauty (with their pen crushed to the paper),
that you'll scarcely recognize yourself in a picture
And you'll hate your reflection in a mirror, after seeing your reflection
in their eyes.
Learning to Fly .Today I couldn't remember theLearning to Fly .3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
exact color of your eyes.
And I can't remember the way you said
"I love you" when you meant it. (Did you ever?)
And I'm so sick of love songs saying
don't let me go, don't let me go,
when I'm not the one that's leaving.
Oh please, oh please don't leave me.
Yeah, like you're going to listen.
You're not here anymore.
And I forgot how my heart used to race
and how my whole being shivered
when I knew nothing of heartbreak.
But my heart won't be beating tonight.
and it won't be beating tomorrow.
And not until I am able to
promise myself eternity.
Cause every bird has to fall
to spread it's wings an
A Desolate LandscapeSoon this memoryA Desolate Landscape5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
will fade, much
like the night
that harbored a
If an escape
is what you
is forever desired,
calling you back
If, though, the
darkness of the
dream that so
mind does not
release you from
its grasp, what
other ways will
you seek to
At that end,
do you wish
to be granted
than a priest?
your tomb that
seem like wisdom
to those who
grieve, yet his
heart is not
glass eyeswhen i was a little girl and still lived by the sea, my grandmother used to give me a telescope, sit in her rocking chair on the patio, and watch me.glass eyes2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
on this particular day, her skin was reaching a peak of gray. cracks surrounded her icy eyes, her lips frozen into a purse, her back crumbling as if the sky rested on her shoulders. the floor creaked when she walked, and the railing leaned forward when she set her hand on it's spine.
she grasped the telescope in the other, the grays just as gray as her hand, except much more new - silver, more like, with glass at the end for an eye and black rubber circling the front, like the parts of her ski
hundred yearsi want to liehundred years2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with the stars
drunk with the mortality
of your lips
catchif i were a boat,catch2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i'd paint my deck ocean blue
so it'll look like i'd drown
Help, I am in LoveI sit upon my throne that is placed inside my mindHelp, I am in Love3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It is here I seek council for my troubled mind
Questions and certain decisions will rise and be made
I pray to myself, that I am not late
The advice that has been given, was not what I had in mind
There for I turn myself to the outside world and cry
A tear falls down and splashes away, giving room for more watery display
I fall to my knees and cry
And all this time I cannot decide
Why you want to be so blind
I am right in front of where we are, can you not see
That I am only starring at who you are?
I want you close, I want you near
So I can make you feel, what it is
NobodyNobody3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I am Nobody.
I live off the land.
I speak the world's language.
I hold the human's hand.
I see the currents pull.
I feel the sharpest knife.
I come and go as I please.
I wish the world alive.
I am Nobody.
But what is a world without sorrow?
What is the sky without clouds?
Why do we feel but not touch?
Why name is secret shouds?
I ask too many question that I know are true.
I tell to many lies that will not be of you.
I am Nobody, but still I am alive.
I withstand the sadness as I still survive.
I rhyme without rhythm.
I hear the hopeless cries.
The world is growing but through blinded eyes.
I am a poet of great variety.
.:: you watch over me ::..:: you watch over me ::.2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
i watch the trees in my front yard sway so gently, i begin to feel myself move slowly with the motion of the wind. it whispers softly in my ear, the way my lover would whisper sweet nothings to me in the early morning. i feel the hair on my neck tickle, and i shiver, as though the wind faintly brushes and kisses my skin tenderly.
my hair dances and twirls gracefully with the cool dawn breeze. i close my eyes and hear your voice all around me. you tell me that you love how passionately crimson my hair is, and that it suits me so perfectly. i laugh, and for a fleeting second, i feel you with me. i open my eyes, and watch