The Society and The IndividualI was born independent and the biggest mistake I ever made was falling into the arms of society. Free will has become an option, and that is where we have all lost ourselves. You can either choose to live, or avoid the things you will never know by experiencing things at your own discretion.
We are the creator of our own lives.
Nothing VictoriousI saw a new universe begin with a dream,Nothing Victorious4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there was no one else around to notice the difference;
The others, having followed pied pipers for years,
remained motionless, as they had been processed
and were now all plastic icons of Jesus, resting on pallets,
ready to be shipped to China.
They screamed, uttered "Mama," and sometimes
shouted obscenities at the Holy Father,
while in the distance, the occasional bleats of
black sheep told me to stop counting my
blessings and begin noticing the near future.
I looked and saw a white horse, and sitting on
its back was Nothing.
And Nothing told me about his plan:
Nothing will bring order, Nothing will erase our history,
Nothing will make us forget all we've done, and learned.
I climbed on the white horse, and I rode away
with Nothing, heading toward the sunset, where I,
along with Hatred, Bigotry, Greed, Pride, and so on,
perished with the final setting of the sun,
following to the east, the dawn of humanity.
We Are Prostitutes And JunkiesThe ribbon binding our cervical ribs togetherWe Are Prostitutes And Junkies4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is resolved fire and
quantum mechanics wrapped in beat-one-egg-until-fluffy.
Cut your teeth on my frightened way of life,
point fingers at the spiders in my closet,
I told you
together we could divide the universe by zero
and find the answer in the rubble.
But I was too delirious
to write down the name on my night-stand,
so I might have been wrong.
Forewarning was rolled off my shoulders
and picked up by the orphans
who wanted to have a life,
and yesterday I found
why I must listen.
are no more entrancing than my sighs, you said.
The sway of her fiending lusts
held no ground, you said.
But I told you poets never find
Strangers tell me I should eat more,
the world is not nearly as revolting as I write it;
I told you the sun would swallow us up one day
and you asked
what became of my opium laced assumptions.
Becoming InhumanI want to scream in colours.Becoming Inhuman4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My words would be painted in blood;
your blood to be exact.
Every vulgar, unfaithful ounce of it,
But you'd bleed for anyone.
You'd die for anyone
You knew this was sacred.
Bodies maimed and desecrated
But when I cut into the skin,
It was no suprise to find
Wires had replaced your veins.
The Former And The LatterI want to have a child, who asks me what war was.The Former And The Latter4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
cup of coffee Your coat is draining in water and your curly thick black locks are powdered with yet undissolved snowflakes. That coat, that hideous coat. I'd told you before how much I hated it.cup of coffee5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
For some hidden reason she looks lovely on you today. She dresses your body like an armor of some kind of bohemian knight. Just like I used to when I would spoon you in your sleep, keeping you warm and safe from the vicious dark until the dawn would break.
She must be your new mistress, desperately trying to hide your murderer body from the stains of blood on your shirt when you staggered my soul with those six little words:"I don't love you any more".
Your dumb look kind of upsets me. It's just like you have thought I would cling to your neck and angrily kiss you for a last time, begging in my guts that I will sip your soul out of that hollow cage of yours you call bo
Death.It took some timeDeath.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
To convince myself
That you don't exist.
The sadness that secretly consumed you.
Everything that made you,
The fear in your eyes,
The cuts on your body,
Hands clenched, gasping for air while
The drugs soared through your veins;
All of that was real?
The smile that could span miles,
The glazed eyes that told so many stories,
The creative mind that once captivated the world
And all that's left are the memories
That torture, consume and, on occasion,
Bring joy to my mind.
It's all surreal,
But I'm beginning to believe it's true.
You're forever in my memory;
But I've come to accept the fact
That you don't exist.
The dumbing down of loveface stained, just as well as the heartThe dumbing down of love4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
things have been turning out all wrong
leaving the lover alone without love
under the knife
"remove my heart! i don't want it without him!"
ardor, slipped away at the seams
all when you thought that your love
was the center of all that ever meant anything
choking on the instant escape
that he left you
you are lost.
your limbs, jello, giving way
to the weight that's heavy in your heart
collapsing your vocal cords so you
no longer have to speak what
The Room In The CityLately, the drinking's been getting worse.The Room In The City4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I spend most of my time sitting in my room reading Nietzsche.
The voices have been talking louder, shouting, screaming at me.
I am fascinated by the simplest of things; the turn of the washing machine, the grain of wood.
I can never stop thinking, about all the little things and about how they don't matter. How nothing matters.
I lie in bed talking to all the people who never were, listening to the music no one's ever played.
My body is a piano, full of black keys only. I am in a country where everyone's face is different from mine, and language is the act of not speaking, and noise is everywhere in the air we breathe. I am doing what the Romans do in Rome; I am trying to communicate but no one has told me that these people cannot hear.
I don't speak anymore.
Lately I've been having dreams where they ask so many questions I can't answer, that I never speak again.
The Dirty Little SaviourYou're wrong, my love; it's when I'm completely sober that I'd like to blow my brains out to make it stop. Delusion is little price to pay for life.The Dirty Little Saviour4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
The End That No One NoticedThe Universe blinks and humanity, in all its cruel glory, comes into existence.The End That No One Noticed4 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
It blinks again, and we are gone.
i n f i n i t eThe last thing that I thought about before the car hit me on that rainy day where Clara's eyes, those eyes that could take me to any other place than I was right now. They could take me to the bluest ocean, where the millions of bubbles tickled my skin and moved through my hair as they made their way to the surface. They could take me high above the treetops, where time would almost seem to stop as every single square inch of my body tried to absorb the beauty around me. They could take me through the Milky Way, watching the stars shoot by and lighting up my eyes as they took my breath away. Yes, it was Clara's eyes that could take me a million places, and it was Clara's eyes that I thought about in the last moments of my life. It was with Clara's eyes that I grew my wings and learned to fly. Will I ever regret that it was her who occupied the last few seconds of my short lived life? No, I never will. And one day when she joins me I'll be able to tell her how it was only her eyes thati n f i n i t e4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
100ThemesChallenge - LoveDespite what people may think, not all guys wants a stick thin barbie doll with a fake smile and dull eyes. I like girls who curve. Girls who when you put your arms around her, feel like they fit perfectly against your chest, not like you're hugging a stick. Homely girls. The ones that wear soft cotton shirts and sweaters, and have a warm smile and eyes you can get lost in. The ones that walk around with a smudge of flour or toothpaste or paint on their shirt all day because they haven't noticed or just don't care. The ones whose apple-vanilla smell you could recognise from across the room, but still never becomes mundane. The ones who, when you curl up with her, no matter where you may be, it feels like Home.100ThemesChallenge - Love4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
If My Life is BeautifulThey say suicide is evil, but I always thought it was selfless that I would make myself disappear so that others could live. Theyd find relief and be free, without the threat of me hanging over their heads. My existence was what was evil it was meaningless and selfish. I was sick, and had to be cared for every waking moment. My mother once said that she felt as though I was holding the family hostage falling deeper and deeper into illness, making everyone fear leaving me alone, and fear being near me. I never told her that I was been held hostage in my own skin, trapped somewhere in the endless void of my broken mind, while the disease took over my soul like a virus. Infection, infection.If My Life is Beautiful5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It made me sad to realize that Ive spent most of my life in therapy, living between sessions. Holding onto empty pill bottles as though medication would be my salvation. Time doesnt exist in my head. I remember almost nothing of my days, just the endless fight to
InsecurityI would cryInsecurity4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But I won't
For when I cry
I am ugly
I would frown
But I won't
For when I frown
I am ugly
Why do I live?
For when I live
I am ugly
Influenced and minipulated
OverflowingI swallowOverflowing5 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
600mg of sanity
in a cold clear glass
with liquid memory
and hydrogen voices
filling the space
between each breath.
As the medication
sinks into my soul
the delusions gently vanish
leaving only echoes
and the fingerprints
of madness on my skin.
The chemicals wash over me
in calming waves
until I see the world
in a softer light
under the same sky.
It's like breathing underwater;
everything is quiet
Stories From the Psych Ward (1 of 3)It's 2a.m. and I can hear the nurses' footsteps down the corridors,Stories From the Psych Ward (1 of 3)3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with pools of light streaming out of their torches like car headlights in the rain.
Tonight is long and lonely, and voices wash over me in the dark.
Night checks, and rays of light pour over the sleepy shadowed forms of us,
into our eyes. Each black silhouette,
the shape of a patient in the middle of a dream.
I can feel insects crawling under my hands
but I can never dig them out.
Early morning cups of sweet black tea bring
a sense of comfort and normality to being an
involuntary psychiatric patient locked up in solitary.
Sleepless nights lying with outward eyes
at the disembodied hands pushing through the ceiling.
I curl around myself and wish I could disappear.
My hands are red and raw from trying to scratch
out the bugs that crawl underneath. I try to show
the insects to the staff, but none of the nurses believe.
One of the humanless spirits holds my spine
while the disembodied voices whisper "stay as low as you can
It's all over us.In the end it's nothing, just another flaw to judge you by when you die. It's like the devil is taking tallies of the things you felt and did and is plotting them against you in your final resting hour.It's all over us.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Some enjoy living in the shadows.. under that ever pouring gray sky. Deeper and deeper into the chaos and darkness.. until we get so caught up in hurting, that all that's left of us is cold flesh and empty eyes.
Friend. I've see this look before, so clearly in the mirror. I can't say I didn't enjoy the pain. But oh those moments when gray was my favorite color.. I couldn't help but to add some red for dramatics.
Maybe it's the artist in me, couldn't stop the perfect angle, couldn't stop the madness inside from boiling over. Still plotting against the raging twisted emotions inside.
Say friend, is this the final hour? When I can't stop to see you trying to smile.. when I can't stop to try and smile back? What time is this that disillusions and mist implore and raging winds cast us ashore
Lunatical MurkReality flows in and out-a ghostlyLunatical Murk5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Mother peeking in at her feverish child
Through the walls of the dark nursery.
Dreams take over slowly, gaining
Power over the dreamer, who fears
The nightmare the truth has become.
Flights of fantasy grow longer
And landings are brief and terrifying-
Crashes down on life's trampoline runways.
Life itself is fleeting, fleeing
From the mind's own intoxicating
Tactile sensations tether breaths
Between gasps of bizarre visions
Choking loudly, louder than fact.
Darkness never comes, for light,
Albeit at the end of a tunnel,
Dances in the icy eyes of insanity.
InstantUnder the suffocating lights of the dance floorInstant5 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
and the overwhelming heat,
another stranger asks me for a dance.
He whispers his name in my hair
but I don't have a
and I don't want to know.
and you lose your soul.
and I don't know how I feel.
I feel -
His hands are on my hips
and he's too close
lips pressed against my cheek.
He touches my hair,
Tells me that I'm beautiful.
Runs gentle fingernails
over my back
and tries to speak.
a light off in
He kisses my hands,
and I can't react.
Everything feels like
a long way away.
When the music slows,
he pushes me to the wall
and whispers that if
I answer a riddle,
he'll kiss me.
I can't hear it,
but I smile anyway,
and want to laugh.
It's like a bad movie script
with the smoke
and pick-up lines.
Two people hooking up in a club.
So achingly normal.
And I've done it before.
But I'm not normal.
I'm a tale
Disturbed PoetryAlexa asks me about psychosis and what it feels like.Disturbed Poetry3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She says listening to me scream
before the nurses put me in solitary
was like hearing beautifully disturbed poetry.
The Needle Tears a HoleBury the needle six foot deepThe Needle Tears a Hole3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Right into my cold dead skin
Push the plunger and let it release
Send in Euphoria
The track marks follow my downfall
I'm getting closer, inch by inch
Almost down to rock bottom
In this hole, full of gasoline
I try to climb back up
But, there is a catch
A match is stuck to my hip
It's the price of my next hit...
With A Single Casual BreathLight a candleWith A Single Casual Breath3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Watch the flame
watch it burn
see how it sparks to life
on the tip of the wick
Blow it with a single
play with its dance
play with its life,
unknowing that not all its
reason for existence is
you snuff it
but not completely,
reduced to a smaller flame,
maybe even to an ember,
you don't even watch it as
it fights for life
you don't affect it, to you
it's nothing, nothing to
Go on with your life, watch the flame,
control it for you fear to be
to the tip of the wick
to the fighting ember that
slowly dying but never to
fighting to live but never
to be alive
Light the candle.
Watch the flame.
Watch it burn.
New Life ObsessionI crave the heat of your life,New Life Obsession6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
wish those liquid rubies would
dance over my cold, numb fingers
as the paling satchel
that is your skin grows
small mountains rising up from
How I delight in peeling the
flesh from your body,
your muscles, your bones
making it mine,
taking the world that belongs to me
from the dying light behind your eyes.
Ill strip your scalp of
those luscious locks of mahogany silk
and wear it myself,
masking my true identity behind
a dead lie.
Ill scoop out your eyes,
just squeeze them from your skull
like I would seeds from an orange,
to know what I look like
through those star-burst blue irises.
I will extract your heart,
your vital organs no longer in use
(reminding me of empty rooms,
stained with the memory of
and replace it with my own,
leaving you to suffer my pains
because you knew nothing,
nothing of such
throbbing within this biological cage.
Once the surging of
this new muscle gra
Epinephrine WhisperI bleed fearEpinephrine Whisper5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and breathe paralysis
drug myself into sanity
and drip with the rain
every drop a thought
falling out of my soul
and tripping out of my brain.
I crawl screaming and sobbing
to the phone
and listen for hours to
the white noise of
the static dial tone.
My fingers shake
as I call
the crisis hotline
child youth mental health team.
she doesn't know
she doesn't know
she doesn't know
I don't have a
I don't have a
My therapist isn't here today.
"Sorry. Would you like to leave a
I hang up
bite my hands
until they bleed
and bang my head against the floor
again and again
I dial the number
Ask for the psychiatrist
that saw me at the hospital.
He's on break.
He'll be coming back
in an hour.
there's no time.
I'll be dead by then.
I need to talk to someone.
She doesn't tell me
to hold on,
she doesn't keep