The Mask With A CrackThe Mask With A Crack4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I have a mask, but you can't see
I have used it all day, even for my family
They think they know, they think they see
They hope they know the real me
But they don't, and they won't see
Because I'm too emotional, to be me
I'm afraid to get hurt, afraid to open up
I'm not a book, you can't open up
They have told me, '' You're a great actor ''
They don't know why, they don't know how I learned to act
I'm an actor all day, and a wear a mask
I can't get hurt, they can't touch me
I let one in, I let her see
I was told, that she loved me
And we were happy, young and free
Now she hates to even think about me
After she left, my mask got a crack
It's not completely intact
And behind it I'm crying, I'm dying
But they just can't see, the crack is small
It gets bigger every day, I'm hurt and they can soon see
They can soon see the real me
When someone pressed on, teased me about my ex
I spat on his goddamn face, I'm falling apart and I keep breaking
This crack, this crack is making me lose control
Innocent ObsessionI love moments like these. He’s asleep. My love. Whenever I cant sleep he’s dreaming, always, all night thru. He never had problems sleeping. I love it. Yes sure, I have to wake him every time so he gets up at all before the evening but Its way better than having him being awake all night, not able to find rest. He needs rest, he really does. He’s so nervous and scared when he’s awake, it must be so exhausting, no wonder he needs so much sleep. Being awake always just meant stress and uncomfortable situations for him. But never ever in his sleep, he could probably happily sleep thru the apocalypse.Innocent Obsession2 years ago in Sketches More Like This
So relaxed and calm, it’s the time of the day when I can observe his gorgeous form without making him uncomfortable or trying to hide or look different than he does. He’s so wonderful the natural way he is. Since I moved in here we keep the windows closed at night and he usually sleeps without any blanket, no wonder, he’s super warm, he even warms me
The Guardians of the CanyonThe Guardians of the Canyon10 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
In the lands of the Itamisuukya’, my people speak of many myths. However none is more curious and intriguing than the legend of the Qaletaqa (“the Guardians”), the wardens of the land and protectors of this canyon.
Thousands of years ago, before the annals of history were set in ink, our lands were inhabited by not one, but two tribes, the Athapasca and the Mokatavatah, who constantly engaged in wars that never appeared to end. For the regions inhabited by the Mokatavatah and Athapasca were desolate and barren wastelands, surrounded by desert and scarce in resources. As their populations grew in number, the land could no longer sustain those who inhabited it... and what one tribe valued most were the possessions held dearly by its very own rival.
Many tried to sue for peace, yet the wills of the warriors were stronger than the pleas of the pacifists, and so the wars raged on for cen
Obsessive Compulsive DisorderWhen I was little, it use to amaze me how colors were made. In art class I would sit and mix paint because blue and red didn't stay the same when they fell in love. Every single color found its match and danced beautifully as I swirled them together. Black and white were my favorites. I'd pour the creamy paint into a bowl and watch as black and white swirls, turned into grey swirls and owned the container holding it captive. Grey was amazing to me. Because black and white are nothing alike, and grey is in the middle. Black is dark and scary and demanding. And white is graceful, and trusting, and clean. Grey is nothing. Grey is bland. And safe. Grey is careful. And I would do anything to be grey.Obsessive Compulsive Disorder5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Friendship is black and turns to ash in my hands. It is dust, so hard to hold. I am keeping still so none escapes, but it feels like at any moment, the wind will kick up and steal it all away. Every move I make is monitored and judged. I am wary about my words and am second guessing everything.
TearsShe was the girl with eyes of burnt amber. But her eyes weren't always that way. It came from hiding a truth so harsh that her beautiful eyes had turned dark. She swore she could never fall in love.Tears4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He was the boy with a face shaped like a broken heart. But his face wasn't always that way either. It came from caring so much about someone that his heart was scratched in cruel, manicured fingers, mangled beyond belief. He swore he would never love again.
They met in a spinal corridor. Then in a courtyard. Then in a room which had a broken window. And finally in a doorway that was too small. And she was crying.
Diamond tears from burnt amber eyes. Diamond tears that fell, uncared for, onto the ground.
He finally had to reach out and stop one diamond from hitting the floor. She looked up at him, surprised, almost angry. But before she could speak, his voice, wine rich, half broken like a damaged violin spoke. "Don't waste your tears where no one can see them."
"They mean nothing."
Bare BonesYou know that saying -Bare Bones8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
About skeletons in your closet
Well I dont have mere skeletons
No motley collection of bones for me, oh no
I have a whole cemetery in my wardrobe
Row upon countless row of tombstones
Hiding the bare white bones of turmoil and torment
Scrawled on each marble slab is a significant date
Marking every occasion on which my soul was mangled
Every single day on which I suffered
Every night I was deprived of sleep
Every single time I stumbled to my knees and fell, weeping
Because demons came knocking at my door
And I had nowhere to escape
Oh yes the demons love me
They have made of me their whore
For I am weak and vulnerable to the vultures of degradation
And they love to pick my brittle bones clean
Pecking away every last shred of dignity and delight
And when they are sated at last
Flapping their harpy wings into the blackened sky
There I lie
A sorry and despicable sight
Quivering in a skeletal ball
Like a dying child
Hugging my knees to my bloodied chest
AnonymousI am the girl who hides between moth eaten paper backsAnonymous3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And slips into bookstores and devours leather bound spines
I am chloroform lips bitten down, red and rosy
Ink stained finger tips that fold book pages between my pupils
I'm the girl who drowns herself in coffee and cough drops
While remaining curled between Tennyson and Steinbeck
Wasting days wondering why grass is green
And how it can be greener for others and not I
Then I realized its all artificial food colouring
And polystyrene picket fences
Sticky notes yellowed at the edges reminding myself how to smile
I've pasted them on my skin in makeshift paper Mache armour
But like all mangled words I will be thrown inside a wastebasket
Saved for a rainy day
Death"Do you fear death?"Death5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The question loomed in the air before my body, as if a sword looming over someone almost conquered by their enemy. But I looked down at my hands and then back up, only to say, "Have you ever felt the pain of watching two lovers embrace at the end of a movie? It's supposed to be a happy ending. But your heart tells your lungs to stop breathing for just a minute because it will never ever be yours."
"Do you fear death?"
A question repeated deserves an answer. But instead, my trembling hands sat clenched on my lap, the blue ink like veins showing through the frail covering that might rip apart any second. "Do you know what it's like to wake up in the middle of the night to hear a song, just to remind yourself, you're going to be all right? Over and over again until it doesn't work anymore."
"Do you fear death?"
The invisible chain linked through my fingers, and I closed my tired eyes, this time, hearing the impatience in th
Please...I see you when Im sleepingPlease...8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Swimming in the murky vestiges of my dreams
I see you when I awake
Bathing in golden sunlight streams
I see you everywhere I look
My traitorous eyes conjuring you out of midair
On the surface of the moon I see your face
A wind-ragged cloud is your unkempt hair
I see you when my eyes are shut
A painting splashed on the crimson canvas of my veins
I spot your reflection in the fish bowl
And in the mud-brown puddles left by rain
You seem to be haunting me
A belligerent and impenitent ghost
Driving me to distraction with your memories
Until I cant decide if I love or hate you most
I cant think why you plague me so
Why I cant just forget you like all the rest
Youve left a scar embedded deep on my soul
If I could be free of you for a day Id consider myself blessed
Your persistent remembrance drains me of life
My lips scarcely recall how to smile anymore
The spark is fading from my once-bright eyes
I just want to kick you out and s
Frustration„Can you believe we’re here?“ Francis played with the damp grass surrounding them, watching the sky go from black, over violet, to a lovely, warmer getting orange.Frustration2 years ago in Sketches More Like This
Alec leaned back until he was laying on the ground, eyes closed, feeling it getting warmer by the minute. „I know I saw a lot of sunrises in my life, but never like this. You know what I mean?“ Francis nodded „I think.“
„Moments like this make me realize I’m here and alive, still alive.“ Francis nodded again when Alec sat back up to look at him. Always lovingly, never disgusted or dissapointed. Every day it made Francis wonder how he deserved moments like these.
„Not just alive but alive together with you.“
Francis chuckled at that and looked back at the sun and her first rays, lighting up the atmosphere, brightening the world, warming their bones.
„Can I ask you something?“ Turning his head back at Alec he accepted „Hm?“
Life SentenceWhenever a passionate relationship endsLife Sentence8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Crumbling apart in smouldering fragments
Or just sliding sadly into the black abyss of oblivion
And youre left alone in your room
Listening to our song
It is then that you look back
Trying to spot what went wrong
And you come to realise that it all boiled down to one thing
One snag in the line
One broken cog
One slowly withering heart
That started the whole miserable death-roll
But it doesnt just happen that way with you alone
For in every failed romance there is always a defining moment
In which a relationship dies
A crucial second
A brief flash of time in which everything changes
And what was paradise swiftly slides into Hell
This moment could be a cruel word
Or the blow of a fist on vulnerable flesh
Or the violation of a trembling figure
Or the corruption of a previously unsullied mind
And once that moment has passed -
It can never be recalled
And you will regret it to the end of your days
PoetryTangled thoughts litter my mindPoetry8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Strewn about like so many discarded corpses
Forgotten by the bone yard wagon
Dusty mockeries of conscientious ideas
Once bursting with the promise of life
Now they lie as still and dead as marble slabs
Inert to the perpetual shifting change of the world outside
Their ragged garments of logic stirred now and then
Only by the deathly breath of my feeble attempts at creation
My mind has become a graveyard
A cess pit of incompetence wherein the god of poetry sits
On his knees in the morass of my inspiration
Shaking his head in contempt at the folly of my failings
You are no poet he declares
In the omnipotent sonorous voice of God
You are a pretender and all your vainglorious attempts
To steal my poetic crown are pathetically
And yet I do not stop
I stride bravely through the cemetery of my muses
Kicking at their tombstones to stir the slumbering skeletons within
I shout into the grimy dark sky of my psyche
Rouse yourselves contempti
My LoveMy Love.My Love7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
After so long,
You can't feel anymore,
You've had too many bruises,
And so many pains.
So you nearly give up,
To end all the shame.
Soon to the night,
That you can end it all,
You meet someone,
Someone who is...
And you can't pull away.
You feel something inside you spark,
A surprise after being so empty.
You talk to him some,
And everytime you do,
You gain a thirst for more.
Again you see him
And you are so joyed.
You find yourself thinking about him,
In your freetime
And sometimes more.
You want to know everything about him,
And you can't seem to get enough.
Next you talk to him,
And everything brightens.
The more your life goes on,
Happier its gets.
You both start to go out,
And not far between,
You finally admit,
To yourself and to him
You are in love with him,
More than you've ever been.
You.You told me onceYou.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you would break my stars,
tear them from the sky and devour them
s l o w l y.
I neglected to tell you
they all had their own feelings
and your bruises form my own constellation
in the quiet valleys of my firefly skin.
I am the milky way.
And you, my sweet-
You are nothing more
than a dead star
with a pretty name.
The Gift of Knowledge The snow was falling again, yet Lërna was not at all annoyed. She rather enjoyed the peculiar whiteness that descended in silence from the wooly clouds above, and she spent the gray mornings wandering contentedly through her sylvan world, observing every detail it had transformed. The only negative aspect she could think of was the new difficulty in finding food. She missed the friendly offerings that had been left for her in the past.The Gift of Knowledge7 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
She moved delicately on her small, feathered hooves. She was loath to destroy the simple perfection of the millions of mounded snowflakes, and for a brief moment she mused on how fascinating it would be to float above the silvered ground, to avoid marring it so she might continue to witness its flawless beauty. She stood silent, torn between play and reluctance, unable to make her decision. Then she took a deep breath and fe
Screw LoveI used to buy in to the global conspiracyScrew Love8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Used to think love was the fairytale dream
A handful of magic dust and blood-red roses
Kisses beneath a glistening moon
I used to believe that once I found love -
If I ever did -
My life would be complete
The last piece of the puzzle would slot into place
And there I would be, fully formed
The girl who had everything
But it wasnt to be
Instead I sit here in my eyrie
Far above the world
Detached, in a cocoon of quicksilver misery
And in my hand I hold my heart
Just look at it
Examine its bruised and bloodied epidermis
The sloughed off flesh, the scars left by
Broken promises and bitter words spoken in the heat
Look at the watermarks where my unshed tears brimmed over
Look how ruined and blemished Love has left it
Screw love - I renounce it
Love to me is blasphemy now
A curse upon my withered flesh
Love is the bane of my embittered existence
And I never want to see her marble face again
For I know the truth now
I have been enlighten
Running away from realityRunning away from reality5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You look me in the eyes
And with complete confidence
Tell me that you understand.
Know what I've been through,
Know how I feel,
Somehow these words only cause pain.
The butterflies from long ago
Have awoken, deep inside,
Only this time in a new form.
Along with clouds of fear,
And drops of anxiety,
stronger as the heartbeats get faster,
for it is the beginning of a storm.
Should I trust a stranger
That knows me so well
And jump into the water,
Even though I can drown
In a lake of confusion
Where my mind will eventually shatter,
Or should I run away, And wait for the one
That will wake the butterflies once again,
This time gently, without scaring them away,
Being able to bring the rainbow ,
With no need of rain?
As I look in the mirror the rainbow fades,
All I can see is gray.
Forgotten dream that never came true,
Got washed away, in a river of words ,
That I will never be able to say.
ObsessionIt takes 14 minutes and twelve seconds to walk to your home from mine every day. Your mother never fails to smile at me when she opens the door. I never fail to notice that it doesn't reach her eyes anymore.Obsession5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
You leave your door open an exact two point three centimeters. I don't think you do it on purpose. There is something wrong with the wood that has left it that way. I pause one foot outside the door and listen to you cough, trying to determine how sick you feel today. I hate that every time I think you are particularly ill, I am always right.
Six months, seventeen days and fourteen hours. That is how long its been since the doctors told us you had an illness. I sat there with your parents, listening to a man who said words like 'terminal' and 'leukemia', and counted the number of times he said 'patient' as if it were your name (Seventeen).
The blood bank says one unit is four hundred and fifty milliliters and I watch as they put the needle into my ar
Daisies“The thing about daisies is, they’re always butchered. Have you ever noticed that? A kid will sit down in a middle of a flowery field and rip up daisies, killing them, gutting them, slinging them around their necks as a primitive necklace. People think daisy chains are cute, I however find them grotesque. Honestly, daisies are alive, and should be treated as such. Daisies have feelings too, dude.”Daisies9 years ago in Teen More Like This
“Frank, do you really believe any of that bullshit you just said?”
I raised my eyebrows at my best friend, smirking slightly as he shrugged his stocky shoulders and fell back in the grass, staring apathetically up at the sky. I watched him for awhile, my palms flat over the undergrowth, my knees drawn up off the ground.
It was a sunny day, for February, and we young college lads were taking full advantage of the situation by lounging about on campus. My sketchbook was lying in the grass at my side, open on an empty page my hands were itching to fill and yet my br
A driftwood Essayforever and flawlessA driftwood Essay9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
those un-plucked flowers
pressed in poetry volumes
and the ocean.
oddities of memories
as river stones, well rounded
in their patient education;
as punctuated coffee stains,
those discarded sutras
by accidental monks,
who learned calligraphy from
what clever lines
the cipruss roots, embroidered
with lichen 'nd worm trails.
how fertile those monks are now,
as love is recorded
diligently, in chronicles
of a child stomping in