My NameLeave my hand, and fly awayMy Name4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I can lose my way without you
I just forgot you and your lies
I'm sick of your useless words
Noise that breaks my silence sweet
Insignificant notes of your false life
When your nightmares embrace you
When the night is so cold and black
At the end, you shout my name.
Faery SongThere's something hovering at the edge of your awareness that should be given a voice. You see, your flirtatious inquiries as to what I did with those old angel wings of mine are certainly not far off the mark. You've stumbled into a faery ring when you stepped into my life, though I doubt you're aware. There's a whole 'nother world that lurks in the shadows and sunbeams on the edge of your vision, taking part in Pagan worship you can only dream about. There's a reason the fae held their court outside my window when you paid a visit. Remember when we sat in silence on my bed, grinning like fools as we listened to their laughter? You marveled how the smoke we exhaled through the screen seemed to curl around invisible forms and dying plants as if it had a life all its own. In reality, the faeries were weaving their magic outside the window in pinstripe stockings and barefoot gaiety. Queen Aine herself was there that day, dancing the Spiral dance with Morrigan and Creide and Brigid, so itFaery Song5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
HollowIn the darkening twilight, I often find myself... lost. Memory disintegrates, personality withers, and the touch of plastic feels strange on my skin. The dark sucks in my soul, reels it in like a drifting trout, and hangs it up to dry next to hundreds of others like it. We dry, slowly, blowing in the false breeze, absorbing the taste of smoke and salt. How long we hang, I don't know. But, when I'm abruptly cut down and thrown back into the water, the sensation is like a gasp. Moisture soaks into my skin, and I'm within myself again, though shrunken and empty from the change.Hollow5 years ago in Horror More Like This
We are not human. Oh, yes, on the outside we appear so. But look at us sideways, and there's a glimmer, a sheen that's not natural. It clings to our skin, as if we've been left so long in the cold that the essence touches us still, revealing us as "different". It's a mark of pride, a mark of shame, yet we wear it with a diffidence that would make a movie star burn with envy. Each step, each touch, comes away cold &
How I Knew I Was PaganHow I Knew I Was Pagan11 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
I was raised Roman Catholic. I did the whole thing. First Confession. First Communion. Confirmation. I was even the girl to carry the baby Jesus up to the front of the church and place him in the Nativity scene every Christmas until I was 8. Played Mary in the Christmas play from age 9 to 13. In every respect, I was a good catholic.
But something didn't feel right.
My mother read playing cards to tell people their future. She even taught me how to do it. I had dreams that came true and would sometimes get a 'feeling' about something. All of these things where a part of who I was and felt natural. Yet the church would have judged me as being evil. In the church's eyes, these things were evil and so was anyone that did so. But how could something that felt so natural, so much a part of me, be evil? I wasn't evil.
When I was 14 or 15, I stopped going to church. I couldn't stand to sit there and listen to how many ways we were damned to hell. I didn't even believe in hell.
Believing In Invisible WingsUncertainty sprouts from questions insideBelieving In Invisible Wings6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Finding your faith, beginning to try
Leaving behind the preconceived notions
Placing your trust in other's devotions
Looking ahead and taking the leap
Believing in wings that no one can see
Reaching beyond your physical self
Learning to feel the one somewhere else
Questioning those who seem to know best
They haven't known your life and its test
Never forgetting the things you have learned
Even though they can prove false in turn
Searching the strange 'scape that's inside
A whole other world, waiting to fly
Feeling the energy reach through all nature
Causing your life to change and to fracture
Chasing the past while looking ahead
A path that spirals through living and dead
The spiritual quest has many goals
To be an Other means seeing your soul
Invisibility Eloped With Murdeand now i'm just a skeleton in my closet because silenceInvisibility Eloped With Murde4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
has nibbled what was ever left of me.
Faerie RingRound and roundFaerie Ring7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Singing our peace
Ashes to ashes
Fleece to fleece
Mushrooms and toadstools
Flowers and leaves
Magic and beauty
But the parent grieves
And humans no choice
Sing with us Sisters
Dance with us Brothers
If you're looking for danger
You can find no others
the almost concertoThis was going to be my concerto,the almost concerto4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but I decided to keep silent instead.
you see, I once wanted my words to matter;
I taught the word perfection how
to play the violin and master how
to keep art from emotions and piece how to hold
itself together, beautifully monosyllabic.
I wanted my words to matter so much
that I would sing them when they were better spoken,
wear them when they would fit perfectly in my pocket,
build them when they were already built and then try
to write an elegy out of their ruins.
This was going to be my concerto,
but I can't make music if I can't
even make peace with myself.
The first treaty I ever signed
was Body's Compromise
but it ended up becoming the grocery list
band aids band aids band aids
and lots of crushed pineapple
nothing solved, but too many ways to cover
everything all up.
The last was a pact with the Lord.
Said my body was a place of worship
and I obliged,
but every one of my cells stopped praying
and forgot about Sunday
Renfield's LullabyGone symbiotic with a spiderRenfield's Lullaby3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
for a bed of silk, the predator's dream.
But tonight there's a nightmare on the web.
Omniscient, omnipresent, as a housefly
awake with all eyes.
A monster is anyone who transforms
into what he had feared.
There is no metamorphosis in mutation.
Tonight there is a nightmare on the web.
It's riddled with moth holes, gaping like a hunger pain.
There is no metamorphosis in mutation.
But a butterfly born with six wings
won't have to seek the lilies limp with hunger pains.
Tonight, some beast is washing the taste of viceroy
out of his mouth.
The butterfly born with two pairs of wings
still had to learn to fly just once.
Tonight, some beast is washing the taste
of viceroy out of his mouth.
When water doesn't work, blood must do.
Start sacrificing lives without flame.
All that is needed is an altar.
When water doesn't work, blood must do.
Make sure it is shed like a light
because all that is needed is an altar.
Christ will look away, tears held back.
The blood shed
Iridium.and love was neverIridium.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it is when our
you always watched
films for the
me, for the feeling.
AlmanacIt is not October until a stray cat tries to follow you home.Almanac2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It does not have to be a black cat.
It does not need to have
whiskers warped like whirls of smoke disturbed,
fur matted with ravenous burrs,
frame as gangly as a sapling with bark destined
to keep count of age rings.
The cat can be fat
in an ungluttonous way,
like a harvest moon.
If it's hungry, just feed it the snack cakes
that expired in June.
It is not October until you're trailing a shadow
other than your own. Say, you snagged
the silhouette of a picket fence
on the cuff of your jeans,
or the underbelly
of a scarecrow shaped
like the barn-hound
snoozing on the job.
You keep every shadow under your bed.
in the light, they grow into your undersized school shoes,
scuttle about, make carpeted floor curse like wood,
work their way into your growth spurts,
fit over skin and skeleton like saran wrap.
"You weep like a willow," Grandpa said
the first day you bled,
you tried to cover your body's crime
with the only crime scene tap
Aniseed.the shower; your hair looksAniseed.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
boyish and light
and I, and we
the same space, time,
body beneath water;
and I love you, I
love you, I love
anything I can
and will grasp
but I forgot to say,
I was forbidden,
from you --
because mother found out,
and spat crimes and
my mind and
I could leave, I should
run, run from home because
my ankle is better now
and I know about children,
I know about intelligence
but I want to run
away, away and love you
and I swore, to her I
did and mentioned
whatever I fucking
Guilty, oh, I am
for loving you
it hurts but you
couldn't leave so you
gave me your jumper;
because there are
spiders in my
and for my birthday,
you'd buy me opals but
the list will read:
i. to spend the night wrapped in his arms.
Almost CriminalThe way you plucked me from a treeAlmost Criminal5 years ago in Open More Like This
Decided I would be the apple of your eye.
Thought I walked on clouds
Because the streets weren't paved in gold.
You built me higher than the mountain peaks
Little did you know I needed fast-food, concrete, oxygen.
Everything that doesn't sparkle
Because I can't live on pretty metaphors alone.
One January day your eyes turned grey
You dropped your pride and saw the pavement cracks.
After all, I'm only human
So why do you make me feel
Shadz and Vampire Girls: StoryShadz and Vampire Girls: Story6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
'Ugh... Wha... what happened?' A black and smoky gray furred fox named Shadz asked himself as he came to in an unfamiliar place, in a very uncomfortable position. His hands had been chained above and behind his head at an angle, while his feet had been shackled to the ground, pulled part way in front of him. He shivered slightly as the sensation of cold, damp concrete was felt below him, dampening his bare paws. And finally, another chain was wrapped around his waist, keeping him pulled into a semi-vertical position. Shadz jerked and struggled against the iron bindings, but made no headway in freeing himself, so he began trying to think of how he could've ended up in a cold, desolate place such as this.
'Weird... last thing I remember, Autumn and I went out for a few drinks and... Autumn! Oh, no. I hope she's ok..' Autumn had been the love of Shadz' life for a while now, and the two had grown close. The mere thought that something could've happened to her was enoug
bird songi told myself i'd never compare the two of youbird song3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but his eyes are so much brighter
if we still talked i'd tell you, i'm happy now,
in the saddest of ways but i am happy now,
i would say, momentarily, warily,
but somehow i would.
just don't you tell me, you're happy too.
Molasses.perhaps, inMolasses.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
hindsight, I ought
to have tipped sugar,
brown, into the blue, copper
vase that held the two
roses you gave me
they've died now, just
like him-- but it's okay
because they're both
in a box, now,
Secret GroveOnce a month I escaped to the grove with rain-soaked hair and rose-tinted giggles. I'd fasten myself a crane made of paper grass and tie fresh juniper berries around its wings and beg it to find a happy home away from the city.Secret Grove3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If only once I could craft a zephyr of fragmented imaginations and lost romances and decorate it with fairy tears, call it home, and soar to the sea with silver sails that wished with me. I'd construct crowns of roses and pin them in my tousled knot that I so fondly call my hair as the salty liquid sprays my chapped lips and butterfly-kissed eyelashes and I would feel beautiful and free.
i'm the designeri want to suture up my futurei'm the designer4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to sharpen a knife with stone
then cut till bone makes it dull
i want to separate sublime from stain
to asphyxiate away arraign
i want to suture up my future
i want to create my own escape
'cause it's so enthrallingly complicated
to keep attempting to integrate it
and gaze upon tracings of fresh incisions
where i recently placed my new decisions
i want to create my own escape
i want to feature my new features
and see if they still say i'm insane
when the blood in my veins is now pure
and now, with perfection achieved,
see if they still believe
that i am less than perceived
and short of all their bereaved
those who were so eager to inform me
that my existence was an infection
and yet, despite their projection
still helped aid me in achieving perfection
now i'm going to feature their flawless features
all the world's desires; i've become the designer
with an unequaled montage reflected in my visage
maybe not quite seamless, but the scars will soon heal
Dissecting the HeartYou have cold handsDissecting the Heart4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and a colder smile
and maybe I'd believe your li(f)e
if that ring around your finger
was an honest gesture
instead of just for show.
You snare the unsuspecting
in your cleverly woven web;
and maybe, just maybe,
I was once collecting dust
among the captured,
but my pulse no longer
pitter-patters your name
pumping your venom
through my veins.
You have greased-back hair
and a bad habit of grinding your teeth in your sleep
and I wonder:
if I were to dissect you
piece by bitter piece,
would I find bone-chips lining your stomach
like fragmented dreams
as the lint dragons lining the pockets
of your hand-me-down jeans?
Would I ever
find any trace of your soul,
or only traces that you never had one?
Your emotions are minuscule
and your eyes without warmth
because man without
is like a bird
It desires the one thing
that it cannot have;
you'll never feel like
you can fly.
Be careful what you become;
the crow never was
prosperoi dreamt of youth, and when i wokeprospero3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i rose; and i was old;
and i spoke thus:
i do not remember this world
nor the mad shapes that attend it;
i am past
first and last of my descendants.
in this madness i am brought to task:
hold fast to the finitude of your art
for it feeds the fury of my craft.
Rhubarb.i.Rhubarb.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there is a locket
with books and birds
the sky, earth is
we touched without
your hands sighed
phrases and eyes sway me;
I will be grey
when you are
a town of crystals,
I am there, within
we speak of making
love, and I will
you have only two
both are kind
and we will
live, in the
dawn of contentment;
naked and alive
pulsatilla for my
my spirit is calm,
my body is tired
and soon, it will
and while distand lands
may beckon others,
I will remain,
and we will
tend the garden,
eat apples in bed,
Shore-lines.Still, I fail to understandShore-lines.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the rhyme or reason
of the deep blue sea.
Because the waves had no rhythm
The tides, no rhyme.
And lying on the shore
was worthy of no poetry
but that of my inner
under my eye-lids and under my skin,
tearing me to shreds,
needed no more hyperboles.
And still, you failed to understand
a subtle numbing of my mentality,
the removal of my appreciation,
and the slow, scraping, sterile surgery
performed on my heart-strings.
A tale of a torture deviceOur Renaissance ladyA tale of a torture device4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is an old woman
with mock cathedrals
and paintings of medieval clashes
in her living room. She has built
her own torture device out of trees
and broken records. When she climbs
a sycamore, her shirt snags
on a branch and a song stagnates
at empty echoes. When she winces,
she lists all of the things that people
who hate themselves do.
She named her pain Stammering Zacchaeus.
The best torture devices know
how not just how to destroy the body,
but how to humiliate it as well.
What do you think the eyes are going
to when they're spiked blind and cold?
When it's time to admit you see nothing, cry.
It counts as a confession.
Bolts and hinges and rusted metal and blades
have mastered the art of forcing a man
to bow and then bleed.
The best torture devices know
how to think like people who hate themselves.
Renaissance lady has a friend
whose family dropped her off
at the only nursing home in town
that doesn't smell like death in the morning.
The world comes in through her
About MeI am the product of your throwaway words,About Me5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My mother's burned-out candles,
A violent, beautiful world,
And 10mg of Lexapro, nightly.
I am much less than the glue that holds society together -
I am a vine, a weed creeping through the preexisting cracks.
I pretend the streetlamps are the moonlight,
And I feed on last month's newspapers.
I could be the buoy you cling to, keeping you up,
Or the rope pulling you deeper below the surface.
I will shrug the salt and debris from my shoulders,
And board your sinking ship.
I am knotted together with complexes,
Shielded by my opinions,
I hold wit as my sword and pull no punches,
And wear burn-scars as war-paint.
I don't believe I can change the world,
I merely want to shatter the silence.
I will break hearts, I will break bones,
And I will have my dreams broken in turn.
I'm safe where I am, and jaded,
I am weathered and accustomed to being the ground beneath your feet.
I never realised how important I was until then.
And I despise it. It's like poi