if love is blind, stab my eyesOh, all the glorious tragedies I'veif love is blind, stab my eyes5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
seen today, all within ten minutes:
A guy holding a bouquet. An expected
box of European chocolates shaped
like a heart, naturally. A stuffed
bear. A couple holding hands. A boy
kissing his girlfriend's soft cheek.
A girl carrying pink balloons. Oh.
I'm alone, naturally. How awkward.
Eyelid umbrellas hold back rain,
torrents of gushy-mushy romance.
A metaphoric flood; stormclouds.
Walking from Point Envy to Point
Facing down, arms crossed. Eyes
on the ground. Please, no optic
tidalwave leakage. What's this?
Stop: step on a blue candyheart.
Facing down, thank God. Thank
God, not Cupid. Not that dumb
St. Valentine. Not a cordiform
morsel of sugary conversations,
spreading one-liners older than
this holiday. Kiss Me. Miss me.
XOXO. Love Ya. Detour: stomp.
Saccharine aorta vs. my shoe heel
(not Achille's, but same difference)
What? You want to know who won?
Are you kidding? Y
understood endingsyou hound my heartunderstood endings4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like a song you slow dance to
like a parting you drink to
like a parting that passes too.
you are a still shot
of lips on an eyelid
my eyes remember
you sweeter than i do.
sticky talk slick and tall,
you are the past lovers
of smarter women than
i am. i think that maybe
you are a better
person than me
i want to marry you
go furniture shopping
yeah all that shit
i love that you are so
young. but sometimes
i wonder if it would have
been better if we fell in
love when we were older
because then i wouldn't
be so reckless and you
would have decided who
you want to be. i hope
that one day long after we
have parted, we will
both come back to town
and pass each other
ComposedI never knew blue could be so warm.Composed4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A moth to a flame -
no, that's too cliché
A tranquilizer gun to the heart
ready, aim -
Fire of the bluest kind
Warm with laughter, but still
You burned me.
Please, never say my name again.
I'm still trying to get your eyes out of my head
And I can still hear your words as if they're ringing out right now.
Don't say my name.
I'm SICK of playing games.
I hope you know that I miss you
And I hope you know I don't want to
But secretly, I hope you miss me, too.
You taught me many things in the few months that I knew you
about life, about love, about desires
But the most important thing I learned
is to never play with fires.
My heart has always been a fortress
to the ones I love, and to those I hate
No one has ever figured out how to penetrate my gates.
You simply climbed my walls.
I remember back before I met you
I was much the same in nature, but innocently blind
you showed me the world
and opened up my eyes
with your fire
what humans do0:00what humans do4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
she met him when she was fifteen, stupid, and willing to do anything to get out of her own head. it was winter, new snow sticking to the ground in snowbanks - like a naked blanket, cold on cold with ice. houses were lined up on the streets, chimneys blaring smoke, colors sticking out against the sky's dull grays. cars rolled by, marking the streets all with the same, parallel tracks, like fingerprints with chains attached. thick exhaust fills her senses.
he seemed weird to her. not because of his cocky, laid-back appearance, but because of the complete fresh and virgin ardor he gave her. it wasn't that kind of sense you get when you're born - the average, cliche smell, taste, touch, sight - but when you pass the age of twelve or thirteen.
he was the untouchable, the near-unforgivable. the sweet fruit to adolescence. the thing you taste when you want something new - lips on lips, tongues tying, tugging on piercings - the umph to the skinny jeans, the belt loops
listlessNothing's on my mind, reallylistless4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Or maybe everything is
You keep your life rhythm through those beating drumsticks
Scream chaotic whispers in electric waves
Heart lit up in wildfire by the arsonist crowd,
As the crowd grows thicker
Thinner grows that trust of ours
In the electric energy hanging over our heads in this wild chaos,
I make out the silhouette of your body frame
The beat of the stilettos on the glass floor, casting laughter drowned in wine, moving pictures shouting from smooth clear surfaces.
He kept his rhythm, theories of life, to himself. For there is no space left in the world and in man's mind for thoughts of complexity and philosophical remarks; the world was built on numbers, consumes numbers, and every crook every turn every bolt and every nail was a number
They said, here's something abstract,
It's worth ten houses, this painting of listless strokes
And they gave you white paper
[For your breathtaking brush strokes, your abstruse words ]
But the whitewashed walls
deliverance does not come,as does the bell-boy from his duties,deliverance does not come,5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the rough-boned burly man from his cell.
with the calendar days deemed ignorant,
the time-clocks cloak themselves. from what?
natural disasters are nothing, nothing I say,
compared to cold metal making nests
within a womb. and men, are wild -
run rampant through the night,
start fights, take heaven to tired veins and
in blind glory, ignite.
ThoughtLabel says take half,Thought4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
take two for 'luck',
If the thoughts don't come
neither will anything else.
Keeping your demons at bay
with one bottle or another.
Seeing everything falter
lose its place in time,
the thoughts are going to get worse now.
Funny how the mirror lies
and depth is obsolete,
shallow eyes, just for you.
'Capitulate before you lose!'
What kind of bull shit is that?
Twisting arms, philosophies,
morals and values.
'Don't accept what's different!'
'Hurt what you don't understand!'
not the usualtoday i looked in the mirror and i saw thatnot the usual4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i am growing up. it was the saddest thing
i have ever had to see
i remember the day i started growing up. i was
six or seven, and my daddy let me loose on the
four wheeler in the backyard. what an american childhood
anyway i was wearing a pink shirt and jeans
and i was singing a song to myself and it was about
jumping off a bridge in chicago. it's not that i
was really aware of suicide or love or anything,
just that something could make a person want to be
in the water so bad that they jumped off a bridge
and suddenly they were happy even though they weren't breathing.
it was kind of like that
and here i am! here i am. i have had four people know me enough
to call me fire or bitch or buddy or baby. one is gone one is
casual one is part of my soul and the other is one hell of a trip,
and i'm still on it. i have bled to bleed,
fucked to fuck, and lied to feel better. i have cried over dead
cats and fish and dumb dogs. i have mastered calculus a
Let's PlayLet's play and awful gameLet's Play4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Where I say I love you
Just to feel something for a while
And then leave you
The moment I can
Let's lie to one another
To get away from what we want
When we feel tired or cold
We'll get together
And screw around to feel human again
Let's go behind each other's backs
And spread lies about our relationship
Making sure the other one never knows
How we really feel
About life, love, and where we're going
Let's make everyone mad
That we're so "happy"
When they're so alone
Making-out to make a show
Sneaking off to make them wonder
Let's break our hearts
Open on rocks for all to see
That it hurt
Even if I really feel nothing
Because I'm not human anymore
Let's play an awful game
charlotte.the daydream perches on my window sill,charlotte.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
singing its pretty melody, eyes closed,
with an entire summer sky stretched out behind it.
all i hear is last night when the other one was here.
the harsh wails of the dark haunt that pierces me
deep in the night when i was still tangled in angry dreams.
i am sure the yellow-breasted bird knows this.
it knows that all i can hear are the broken strings
and that my skin can never feel its soft feathers
the way it still remembers the vivid nightmares'
black, blood drawing claws and all its raw scars
so somewhere in its song there is pain
perhaps fresher than those on my skin.
but who's to hear? my senses have been stolen
and there's not a shred of heart left in me
to feel sorry for you.
4 seasonsEarly March4 seasons4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The crystals of the frost lies upon
the small wonders, underneath,
a birthday cake out on a bench,
cold trembeling fingers light candles,
a rose red mouth blow them out,
the sun shines through the bare
branches, soon filled with shade
for the lovers,
a birthday wish for warmer weather
and complete hearts
the lovers entwine.
Asphalt wet, flower scents,
warm drops on my face,
summer warmth all around,
jackets still on hangers,
I dance ahead,
you look at me, smiling,
I turn around and laugh,
asphalt wet, flower scents,
warm drops on my face,
summer warmth all around.
F A L L
A moist scent flies over the streets,
the fragile gold fall, get caught
in the winds,
a nervous hand clutches another,
gloveless and warm
despite the rain,
the sky paints with grey,
while the asphalt points the way
to Oz; I think it's fall.
Lie here next to me when the snow ravage the land
and the roses wi
DepressionTo the world you're smiling. Someone asks "how are you?". You reply "fine, just tired". And that isn't strictly lying, you ARE tired. Tired of being alive. Tired of waking up every day regretting your existence. You're constantly crying on the inside. The tears never cease to fall even if the weary smile on the outside does occasionally fool someone.Depression5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
You're being burned alive. You have chunks teared out of your soul day in, day out. There's a massive black cloud descending over the whole world. Everything becomes blurry. You want to cry, scream, run away from the insanity. You want to be held. You need some warmth to heat up the cold and empty room. The flame's going out and there's no more oxygen left.
You want the misery, the never ending misery, to vanish. You're so tired but you can't sleep. You're not ALLOWED to sleep.
Everything else becomes distant background noise and you spend hours wallowing in self pity. You spend DAYS dreaming of all the ways to kill yourself and end t
EmotionWithin a drop -Emotion4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
an unknown world,
by the burning sun,
a fall from the cheek
to the cloth, a drop no more
a thousand worlds
more to come, they run,
get preyed upon
a feast for the cloth,
a scream from the eye.
Love on a roof topI want to climb up a roof top with youLove on a roof top4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to watch the sunset, starry night and sunrise
with my head on your shoulder
and your hand in mine - all entwined,
I wouldn't care about hunger, pain or sorrow,
I would just sit there and watch nature's play
from spring to summer to autumn to winter.
If it would rain I would kiss you dry, if it snowed
I would take away the snowflakes in your hair
and if it stormed I would come closer to share
If you would scream I would scream with you,
if you would talk about nothing and everything
I would talk too and if I would see something
I would point it out so you could see it too.
So I don't care how many years it would be, or
how long our hair and toe nails would become,
I would sit there with you and talk or be silent
- all entwined, just as one.
Gutter- CaughtNemi crept into the room, keeping her eyes underneath the swaying cloth to check for any shadows that would signify a guard, or, worse, the captain. She reached the desk, finally, and looked down at it- the desk was made of a dark brown, almost black wood, with designs on the sides and fronts of the drawers set into the sides of the desk. Nemi could tell with one glance that this desk was expensive. The kind of desk that she doubted could be afforded when one was making a living transporting food to and from markets.Gutter- Caught4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Calm down, she told herself, so he inherited a nice desk or something. Don't be rash.
Because sneaking into a guarded ship in the middle of the night isn't rash. A rather sneaky voice in her head sarcastically noted.
Nemi ignored this revelation and her trepidation over the desk and began slowly opening the drawers in the sides of the desk, seeing as the top was bare save for a flickering candle and an ornate wax seal. The first drawer she tried opened
falling into thunderThe lightning last nightfalling into thunder4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like crashing bolts, like silver swords
from the deep ebony above,
[the colors of your summer gaze]
there were no clouds,
[for they were floating in my mind]
his still image, in black and white, that smile
was like mudwater, filling up the gaps,
the blank, empty, deep voids
under my eyelids
I pull the blanket to my chin,
[flash, flash, boom goes the lightning above,
and i pretend to see a window shatter like ice,
[even shadows have deceased, to the brightest gleams of nowhere]
maybe you've awaken,
to this sound of a musical mess
our dreamy, dark reign
[don't you fall asleep now, with the darkness weeping its only known song,
because if fish have a memory of seven seconds, then you should forget me too.
ThoughttospeedSwiftly the rock moves, ne'er will heThoughttospeed4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Happen upon the chance to see
Another being as lithe as he
In the land of Thoughttospeed,
(A hell of sorts for philosophy).
Each thought here grows grotesquely large
Into cancerous, hideous tumors.
And as these weighty growths take charge
They harbor hate, they harbor rumors.
An existential crisis is akin to a coma,
(Each human here has at least one teratoma.)
And they cover themselves up in corn chips and paint,
'Till where one is and isn't is where one isn't ain't.
That may not make much sense, but in Thoughttospeed,
One is weighed down by their personality.
149.Sometimes when we touched149.4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
everything became a blur
of perfect stillness
it's always the growing fearWhen its impossible to be with that someone you can be at the top of the world and still feel inside as if you're falling into an empty expanse, a deep pit, it's hell blinding you, it's images of his unstoppable smile, it's images of his hands, it's images of the arch of his eyebrows and it's the possibilities and venturous thoughts about him that end up in the end of nothing where nothing is ever true and every hypothesis ends with a bad answer with a thousand proofs and two hundred scientists shaking their head, or it's just the lamp and the lonely water bottle who shake with the table as fists pound and rip ugly hair from ugly skulls and pens inking their life on the polished wood, it's the dawning blue, it's the endless streetlights, it's the jogger whizzing by, it's the guards in the red hats who think they are everything, and we're nothing, we aren't, and the knowing that we'd never see each other again, and the possibility and the impossibilities and the doubts and the wonders ait's always the growing fear4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Tears In The ForestI hear your footsteps crunch on the leaves as you walk up to me.Tears In The Forest4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"You're crying." You say as you sit down on a nearby rock. And it is true, I did have a tear on my cheek, as well as a few in my lap. Though, it wasn't anything of the rivers I have seen on others faces.
"So?" I say quietly, my voice raw or perhaps closed from my crying. I make no move to wipe away my tears.
Why should I? You have already seen them; already pointed them out. Already walked out here in order to find me; already found me kneeling in the dirt.
"Why?" That's you. You always seem to simplify things down in just a few words. That's not to mean that you don't tell much, even if you speak in such short phrases, one just must know how to look deeper into your answers. However very few do that. Yet I talk almost all the time, with meaningless little words to fill the silence. You listen, I know you do, but it is a wonder to me still how we became such good friends.
"Humans. What did you expect?" I say in that deadp
create with meWith my words,create with me4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I could give to you.
A tragedy like no other.
Yet within my power,
I want you to be lifted higher,
And feel as if this world was made for you.
Though some may say,
That it is but folly in dreams,
This is my decree in every word.
As the roses form,
And the water fall splashes,
The wind carries my voice to you.
As with ever passing heart beat,
One can create both sorrow and joy,
Though the choice is not so well known.
Each whisper empowers,
As drawings of roses brings joy,
But will you create something with me?
Though I can create untold joy,
We both exist in this timely scene,
And though I asked it before I'd like to dance.
For with every action,
The cost is time and goes with woe,
Yet the return can never be something so meaningless.
So can I request,
Time from your heart and soul,
To create something of equal joy and woe?
The choice is forever yours,
To weave tragedy or harmony into life,
Be it in any form this life chooses to give.
So will you weave this choice,
:in between words and worlds:i.:in between words and worlds:4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
With amorphous regret in my mind and genesis in my notebook I turn the page and there is the hateful etching of your name a hundred times over and over until its engraved on my wrists and under my eyelids, those crimson marks dispersing into atoms when I close my eyes, there is the slight tremble of the summer leaves and the south birds migration, there are the salmons leaping in ocean's tears and mountain's streams and there are cars whizzing by the empty voids between our words and worlds.
To you, words exist in worlds
And to me worlds live in the existence of words
But you'll only frown and turn away, and accuse me of being philosophical and boring.
Because maybe that's what I am, a cluster of clashing words,
Clashing worlds when I shut my eyes
And clashing sounds like soap water when I just l i s t e n .
In the translucent yellow of this candlelight, the lisp of words soften to words sifting above whispers, and in vain I sketch in my mind the shape of your smi
Can You Hear The Piper?I am the piper of lost souls,Can You Hear The Piper?4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Playing away my sorrows.
As I play they gather around me,
Looking for guidance and love,
Which I gladly trade for company.
They sing along,
With my heartfelt song,
The cries of the dead rising strong,
They sing of chaos without name,
A mortals' sin brings about much pain.
Their voices carry into the night,
Sailing on like birds of flight.
A beacon bright to those deceased,
They flock to me like sheep,
A moth to the blazing heat.
I call them here with my tune,
Underneath this starlit sky,
The passing sailor hears their cry,
I am beckoning all to my sight,
Gathering my bounty, for tonight.
Asphyxiated HarmoniesVerses used to spin inside my head. They would reverberate with lacerated tones, jaded emotions, and faded colors...endless fragments that I couldn't capture between my frail, fragile fingertips because no one wanted to hear them anyway.Asphyxiated Harmonies4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Even if I wanted to write them down.
Eclipsing endlessly inside, they would spiral together shadows of the future and regrets in a tapestry we all call "the past," forging unsettled harmonies. Note by note. Word by word. Pitches...all marked their place on the treble staff and allowing others only to build upon the fractured foundation of splintered minor seconds and diminished minor chords that allowed themselves to decay into the empty space behind the keys of the piano.
I'm telling you this, because you've upset the rhythm in my head.
You've upset the clear beats of 4/4, and turned it into a syncopated 15/8, in which I have no control over. The rhythm upset my soul and my