Lie to me Lie To MeLie to me6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Lie to me,
Tell me everything will be okay,
Fake the comfort,
Say tomorrow will be a better day.
Hold me close,
Whisper sweet nothings in my ear,
Don't let go,
Pretend that there's really no reason for me to be here.
Hide the evidence,
Destroy the proof,
Make up an excuse,
Do what you gotta do.
Forget "We Miss You" cards,
Screw any "Get well Soon" letter,
Cover the concern,
Just tell me I'll get better.
|)0 you l o v e me EnOuGh to
Pi PieHad it really been a year already?Pi Pie5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
His memories were still so fresh it felt like only yesterday that he had pushed her on the swing, her laughter rippling through the air like waves over water.
As his fingers glided over the keys his eyes glided over the arrangement of little paper darts on the shelf. He had gotten one every week when she was away, neatly folded into envelopes and covered in her tiny writing. Each contained a secret about her.
"That way, I'm flying to you, no matter where I am," she had explained.
A sad smile played on his lips as his music moved the air around him, sounds building up like longing coming to life.
He remembered the pi pie he'd made for her amusement. When it was ready, he had led her into the kitchen and sat her down at the small table. She'd stayed there waiting patiently, only her eyes moving and following him. Smiling, she had reminded him of the Mona Lisa. But she had been so much more beautiful.
Had it really been a year already?
AddictionAddiction6 years ago in Other More Like This
I cant stop shooting you up.
I jam the needle of promise in quickly forcing your liquid words home.
I hold my breath for an instant letting your sticky verbs wash over me.
Its been too long since my last fix and I savor as much as I can before your power takes over.
Finally, your seeking terms dirty me up properly; my head teeters and my eyes roll back.
I can feel you.
Reality fades as you take control of my thoughts and my poetry.
Passion burns my flesh while ice gnaws at my gut.
My blood boils as my bones dance outside my body.
I taste sweat and pain.
I see blood and guts oozing as I offer a half hearted lust filled smile.
I think Im trembling but uncertain its from fear or enticement.
Perhaps an unhealthy mixture of each.
Not sure if I really care anyway.
A shaking pen writes of salty sugar and sweet horror.
Addicted to you, I can do anything.
With you inside, I can decorate the world.
:.Hopeless.::.Hopeless.:11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Insecurity covered with careful dreams,
she's not as confident as she seems.
She looks at night and wonders why,
she yearns hello
but hears goodbye.
Through tears she manages to say she loves,
acts sick of hurt but hasn't had enough.
Hollow inside she wants a heart,
begging to hope
but lost the start.
Throws life away for rough, sugar nights
explores love brawls without knowing to fight.
Hopeless, she knows, but doesn't care
searching for beauty
but is still too bare.
Disgust bubbles and boils inside her veins
tries to be cool, but cant remain sane
Doesn't give up, she hates logical
searching for faith
but none is possible.
Thinks maybe someday she'll depart from pain
nothing to lose, even less to gain.
Blinded she is but wont let go,
she has no chance
...but doesn't know.
Tangential AsymptotesI think about falling in math class.Tangential Asymptotes4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The boy in front of me is writing diligently, noting each and every word as though he forgot it was all in the textbook. He has dark hair all tangled up in the back like a bramble of thornbushes and his green hoodie looks like it could use a good washing.
The professor is rattling on about asymptotes, about two lines that go on forever, getting closer and closer but never touching. He tells us about the Greek roots of the word; asymptotos, that it means "not falling together," and he scribbles nonsense equations on the board and hopes that we understand them better than he does because tenure is the only reason he's teaching this class.
As much as I hate math, I have to admit there's something beautiful about the concept. Something romantic and longing, something I can relate to in a sea of cold precision and dispassionate numbers.
I think about falling in math class. I think about fractals and their intricate patterns, turning equations into art. T
The Language of BirdsThere has not been a customerThe Language of Birds9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in days and the rusty scent of dust
has overpowered the scent of gasoline.
The man feels his crevice covered hands
through fingers feeling leather, feels
his overgrown face feeling leather and moss.
He works alone and spends his days
growing his beard, for nesting perfection
for the yellow bird which keeps his fingers
occupied. He is learning the language
of birds for coaxing the yellow one back
home. He writes lines of poetry
on the wall behind him and translates,
and catches himself speaking these lines
mesmerized, memorizing, coaxing
what he thinks to be original thought.
(His fingers twitch, making dust rise,
feeling the inside of his nose.) He silently
recites these words meant for speaking
to humanity, for letting a woman know
the extent to which one admires her fingers.
Dear My Good Friend...Dear my good friend,Dear My Good Friend...6 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Thank you for being there when I needed you. Whenever I wanted to take out the wall and beat up the badass in the class, despite the evident death wish. Thank you for the pat on the back when I cried. Embarrassed. I prided myself to hide my tears. That's nothing to be proud of now. Thanks for the hugs when I felt like taking a stab at the bricks with a blunt butter knife that I've never used for butter.
I felt alone. I don't like looking weak. Women have just as much right to be as strong as men. No less than they are, and maybe greater. But everyone is weak.
and everything in between.
So thank you for being the friend that I could vent to. That I could rant about how much I hated someone or how frustrated my parents were making me. The stress in my life that health teachers blabber on and on and on about. Telling you, "Deal with it in positive ways."
Life is just unfair and it's unfair that it is.
And I want you to know that I'm there for you.
the cocooning of pangeatell me about continents and oceansthe cocooning of pangea6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and i'll tell you about highways
and i say:
that isn't an ending,
need to change.
and i say:
we all need to change,
even beauty must adapt.
and i say:
the sun isn't a candle.you never did learn that beauty can't be painted on rotting ship hulls. decaying wood will always smell like the ocean's betrayal and the salted funeral salute of gilded words. swirling acrylics will only mask the bleak gray and bled-dry sinkhole of your chest. so, you can sit there and call yourself the queen of your world, the mistress of mystery and empress of lust, but you're taking on water and sinking fast and the imploding sea around you is the last grave your cat-eyes will ever witness. you're sinking like a stone in your hate and deception and the one hand that would have pulled you back is the one you gnawed off at the wrist.the sun isn't a candle.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
you see, you had the sun in the palm of your greased talons, the whole reason for expanding lungs stitched between your pores and you discarded it like secondhand news. you never did realize: he's the cause of the spinning axel and the foundation of rome and the song the stars sing to dusk-covered fields. oh, you were just too blind to absorb his light!