Clarity Through Pinhole EyesThis leather-faced beauty, once belonged to me.
Empty-headed nostalgia stained to consciousness. Watch the concrete-chunk agony leak through pin pricked eyelids.
Still she cannot feel it.
Thirsty fingers reaching through the wax rib-flesh. A quiet pleading; smoke curling through the eardrum. Voices taunting
t h o s e h a n d s
To mutilate the most tender, fragile muscle.
Oh and it burns
Dirty Needlesmy skin is an embarrassment of preconceived geneticsDirty Needles1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
without sensory or proof
and all they could say was
My Dear, it's comatose.
tasting forbidden flavors
mountains of unconsciousness
memory is a sieve
capability in the mouth of my nightmares
organs conjuring art
quiet shocks of color
tremolo voices breed beauty with lightning
they claimed it was premeditated murder
an idea of expected growth
the cadaver is resilient; remaining
simply to leech sleep
of abandoned opium
To Mix Gasoline and MatchesHer solar scars were aching for the aquafina kiss of relief.To Mix Gasoline and Matches3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But who among them would soothe her charcoal freckles?
Who withheld the capacity to repair such a scorched surface?
He said it like it was the first rule of life,
like it should be so fucking obvious.
She clasped singed vocal-chords,
tattooing questions into chest crevices.
Stifled lightning ignited organs,
highlighting silenced thoughts with neon importance.
The thunder rumbled through her pores,
infiltrating the epidermis,
seeking her innards.
She felt it shivering beneath her bones,
whispering within her ribs.
It spoke of the culpable, the guilty.
A fork-tongued reminder spewing honesty.
"Ignore the ashes, Pyro Girl.
that once they've bathed in flame,
people all look the same."
I only pray you're able to stare d
Cockroaches Don't Smoke (To peer through his eyes; smoldering nicotine embers. Shuddering beneath the firefly glow.)Cockroaches Don't Smoke3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
His charcoal breath always went with those cigarette lips. The consequences of kissing addiction.
Tobacco-scorched arms threaten the embrace of a chain-s[aw]moker.
Baby, I remember you with eyes of periwinkle concrete. All the independent paths of your freckles, they used to mark the places we could go, the adventures we'd stumble into.
(But now, his freckles are just a way to count all the ways it never worked.)
My eyes are snowball-ice and when he breathes the heat of that cigarette stench, I melt into an unfortunate slush mess.
(Asphalt hands attempting to so
Red Feathers and Metaphorical OceansI found her degraded,Red Feathers and Metaphorical Oceans3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
slathered in pomegranate puddles. Juicy sweet.
Timid blueberry tears dribbled
atop her raw pancake tissues.
Her offended coconut flesh
feigned feminine composure;
I noticed off-white muscles
paranoid and taunt.
Bones bracing for the sizzle.
into someone solid.
blackened texture - rabid, raven-eyed
complexity beyond explanation
submission - succumbing to indifference
Ghosts boast the ability
to seethe adicity through cemetery breath.
They remain inaccurate, spewing centur
Crucial PerspectiveWho are you to solidify me?Crucial Perspective2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sloppy, still shameless.
At least it's easier.
She knew much more than I could say.
Why wait for assistance?
Get on your feet.
please don't make me admit it.
she is slamming through my soul;
unfortunate and profound. )
Crucial filament distorting imagery.
She is a tumor
a malignant mound of flesh.
Spoken with idealistic assurance
Promises projected from warped paradigms
She becomes less of what I see, and more of what I know.
Softcore Porn and Moldy FruitYou'd expect the bite of lemon juice to be enough,Softcore Porn and Moldy Fruit3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
o' but no, the incisions always indulged in moldy peaches.
Raunchy, biodegradable fruits
full of foul odors and seeds that say "Fuck You"
if you ask them to grow.
You'd think someone would begin to loath
the invasive glint of steel soaked in citrus rot,
but no, her stitches kept tasting for the ache
of scalpel beneath skin.
That familiar ooze;
peaches and crème slipping down forearm.
She grew accustomed to the daily rituals of apricot patches
molding to skin.
She understood the necessity of routine,
the demands of a schedule.
Scabs peeled and picked
to a fleshy, citrus dessert.
I find her infatuated with tangerine ice-cream
sliding from the seam of arteries,
and I'm wincing as she
relishes liquid candy.
And it's demented, but her eyes shriek "Delicious. Delicious."
And this is revolting and wretched, but her eye's say "You Love
Candle Bones and Wax FleshShe spoke of the fire in her bones, a savage electricity sparking in her skeleton.Candle Bones and Wax Flesh2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Insults hurled like bullets between them,
resentment igniting like gunpowder.
Her heart beats blue beneath her ribs; a raw, pulsing meat.
Her lips quiver, furious and trembling.
She struggles to reply but
there's fire on her tongue and lead anchors in her lungs.
She screams, flames rupturing from her esophagus,
heat seething from her bones.
She shrieks scorched flesh from between her teeth,
pausing to acknowledge ashes at her feet.
"The useless remains of what used to be alive."
LEGALLY literally INSANE I could tell you a story of beauty and butterflies and fuzzy feelings, but it wouldn't be accurate or useful. It wouldn't be entertaining, or helpful, or even truthful. It would be lying, and I would be the liar.LEGALLY literally INSANE3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
So I'll start by saying, I have a freckle between one of my toes. His name is Fred, and I try to talk to him, but he refuses to respond. I speak of the garbage disposal, tell him of the tiny teeth people trying to grind away my fingers, and even though Fred doesn't talk back, I bet that if he did, he wouldn't believe me.
Sometimes, when I'm shuddering and paralyzed beneath my sheets, I call out to him. "Fred?" I say, "If ever you were going to speak, please
A Sick Delusioninnocence splashing across pale skinA Sick Delusion3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
pulled to her palm.
feather pressure softening lips,
sprouting technicolor sensation.
sparks of vibrance woven through nerve.
the gold glitter passion leaks from teeth
and smiles sparkle with intimacy.
cotton eardrum; opal whisper
Vanity Tortures and TicklesThe bath water tasted like soda-pop salt. (Convulse) But it's not enough shudder off the sting of stainless steel.Vanity Tortures and Tickles3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
This aqua is a soup of scarlet volcano. (Erupt) Still the whirlpools ooze magma.
The tickle/torture of feather fiber taking flight. I tried offering the corpse her dreams,
she would only hiss through a slit jugular, "Bring me the maggots!"
(Revive Her) She will still wish for death.
The mirror smelled like iron and rusty teeth. (Break)
The Ocean Smells Of DecayI am washed up carrion,The Ocean Smells Of Decay3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on plastic sand beaches.
Sea urchins eat away
at my cardiac muscle,
hermit crabs find shelter
amongst my flesh.
The salt brine has me tasting of
tears and high-blood pressure,
Seagulls are regurgitating me in chunks.
Not the urchins,
they liquefy my filth
the clawed-hermits live within
from my rotted tissue.
I smell like low-tide
and smoothed over
pieces of glass,
stranded with me.
Dawn reveals the stench
of my dissipation,
and I find
Pisces"…so drown me. I mean, if you can."Pisces1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
A threat in her eyes. Triple dog dare.
And I'm on edge but I don't wanna show her just yet.
"Now you can't honestly expect me to be foolish enough?
Drowning fish is a fruitless endeavor."
She smiles, all fury and triumph. Her ocher eyes ignite; flickering then flaming.
"O' but sister, are you not a fish, same as I?
Are we not of the same blood, the same scales?"
And I hesitate, ever-cautious.
What's she hinting at? Huh, sis'?
What's that card sewn up your sleeve?
I hesitate for just a moment too long.
"And you would believe it impossible, no?
A difficult enterprise to say the least?"
She carves words out of atmosphere,
pronounces every syllable with refined practice.
An artisan's articulation.
I find myself shivering; hyperaware and feverish.
I am not of you, I am of nothing.
Blood is water, blood is air.
And I'm too silent and shaky and she knows,
Who Gave My Innocence Rabies?(and if I begged you, would it make this any less important?)Who Gave My Innocence Rabies?3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Give it to me straight, shoot it from the hip.
and you're running through the fairgrounds with candied-apple stuck in your teeth. A silly, little child nibbling cotton-candy, entirely unaware. have they forgotten to tell you?
it's poison. (sweetness wound from fiberglass) fluffy acid clouds, and they may taste like rainy
TheScriptureInYourSlantedLispingLongingDevotion is no scripture - we are not, i am not.TheScriptureInYourSlantedLispingLonging2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Pressing linguistics, the stutter and slant and lisping.
Simply to coddle you - melodies structuring the bellow.
A cliff I'd long since been seeking to climb.
I do not think of it that way . . .
and the destination - deadlines of not enough time.
Preregistered foot steps weakening ankles -
walking towards the climax
Wait if you must. The sunrise is alive.
With fire igniting your muscles, infernos of enlightened tissue and passion.
Appreciation for pulsation - that throbbing possibility.
I do not think of devotion, the scriptures long since lost.
I registered the stutter-slanted lisping
still the melody richoted backward
bellows of we are not. i am not.
I incinerated into silk throbbing through the sunrise.
Appreciation for the iceberg -
tissue shivering mountains of muscle
Awake in a Lucid PlaceBlood like cherry soda, sugary heart tastes of sweet-tart tissues.Awake in a Lucid Place3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Are you alive Candy Man, is this the saccharine
you've been aching for?
I gulp down smoke in gluttonous gasps,
as the marijuana pounds a marshmallow pulse
through blood. A soft thud
as THC ignites fibers
to bioluminescent tissue.
Meat glittering like rubies.
Lighter sparks lightning on glass, thunderous clouds
spiraling down esophagus, expanding
(the grasp of eggplant kisses through amethyst eyes)
Violet layers of air faucet the senses. Lungs inhale,
only to be encrusted in bruised oxygen.
To ingest atmospheres of lavender and
Siamese TwinsPremeditated and cultivated, we sculpted a single persona. But alas Sister, gravitational forces wedged something between.Siamese Twins2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
And the split was massive, irreversible division. Tectonic plates erupted into separate continents.
Now it speaks through me, to personify and perhaps justify all that no longer is. May I serve as living proof - half of all that was.
NostalgiaRocketing in wavelengths emaciated and impeccable.Nostalgia2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Irregular pressure palpitating
Looking through kaleidoscope distortion
Prisms shouting shards of fragmented color
Perverse IncisionDarling,Perverse Incision3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the beauty of these bruise tattoos
when you punctured and punched
this ink beneath skin
your anger fractured across canvas
in exquisite detail.
And if I only could understand
the wounded artwork
inflicted upon me,
I would inscribe it deeper still.
But you were always
Too sharp and vicious
You were always
Deceitful and perverse,
in a way that makes me wish
I could press agony to paper.
And the beauty of these bruised words
isn't that you wrote them,
I feel them,
even when you cannot.
Cracked, Easter Egg Eyessoundless.Cracked, Easter Egg Eyes3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Whispers trapped in rotted teeth. There is a definition but Silence says, "Please, read it not."
The mirror holds me captive. Visual hostage to this portrait of self-assured beauty.
So stare a little longer.
Autumn had goldfish eyes and apricot laughter. If I held her hand, she'd carve a smile with those pumpkin seed teeth. I called her Jack-O-Lantern.
Gazing Past My Looking GlassGazing through the looking glass, I can almost see clearly...Gazing Past My Looking Glass3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I created cracks in the looking glass, the tiny mistakes I cannot look past are leading me away from what I look to see.
The cracks run deep, insisting on all I'm meant to be.
But the more I look the more I find, the cracks in the glass are also in my mind.
Pesky imperfections draw the eye, from options waiting just outside.
Now the cracks that fractured eyes crawled into my mind, and now I see have made me blind.
It's not about what I've said or done, the people killed or prizes won.
It's not about who I look to
You Look Like I Need A DrinkStatic verses quaking through crippled fingers, lisps written into inebriated meaning. And I tried with fervent failure to pronounce the sarcasm spewing from my palms, but they were naughty syllables, practicing cohesion without permission, and heaving disjointed language from my rotten, rotten teeth.You Look Like I Need A Drink3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She straggles with boulder bones sinking through infectious flesh, frantic slurs bleeding from her throat. And I stumble for words, endeavoring to compose rainbows of smeared thought, but my vocal chords stutter unintelligible sympathy, incoherent accents and forced definition.
So I draw this poetic slop from corroded neurons, eager to drain the deformity from metaphors, the dialects distorted by ancient tongues. But my every opinion staggers through intoxication, trying to find a stable image in visions of jittery focus.
Alcohol insinuating rough apologies.
Static verses quaked through your crippled fingertips, lisps I had written with poor intent.
I am what you made me to be.You know what this is.I am what you made me to be.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
(I never knew
No matter how hard,
typical of reptilian whores,
and you were dirty,
much the same,
alive in kaleidoscope
(Intercourse at every
Only in the seconds I
(We are but
I Feel ? This.I Feel ?3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It will begin like light cascading through fleshy membranes. The sudden awareness of electromagnetic feeling that pulses through every nerve, and yes finally, today signifies the start of animation. Because yes, you can finally feel.
You are alive.
[Breathe] Inhale the tattered stars. Gasp as they tear open galaxies, destroying themselves and whatever is left of the O-zone layer. [Gulp. Gulp.] Choke down their destruction and remember, that those ever-so-distant wishes, they shredded the sky for you.
It started for you.
Static climbing into my tissue, and it burns like white noise or bleach or frostbite, and as I'm amputating things I sure hope I won't need, I look beyond earth's mutilated atmosphere, searching for the flicker of those ever-so-distant fireflies, but oh, they died the day you began to
It asked me with those ivory teeth, all smooth and valuable. I sneered at the bribery amongst kings, scoffing in the face of a wi
I Murder Christian BoysMany years, and yes, I still wear a plastic-femur necklace. It makes little sense, but it was supposed to be symbolic.I Murder Christian Boys3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
(p.s. I'm barely Christian)
The space heater is beginning to gag and wheeze in electrical spurts of life, but it's COLD baby and December has more icicle teeth than this heater can survive.
(p.s. I am supposed to be at school, but truancy is just so trendy.)
Here We Go Again
The endless reel/fishingline/movieclip/reality.
(p.s. you can say(remember) it with any word you want)
Row boat lost