Thin"Get it out,"Thin5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
out, between thinning lips and porcelain:
little glass lives on display
we hawk the pretty ones for change
and, knowing better,
pay a glamorous death to love us.
In MemoryThey will miss small fragments of glass when they clean the streetIn Memory7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and they will linger,
like words that fell to the floor to be left unspoken;
because nothing seemed more appropriate than
shocked silence and sunken stares
But one day soon, everyone will collide
just like you: by surprise;
in black and tears, with tarnished smiles
in a failed attempt to make your life
The Missing FrameWe are shells; not the kindThe Missing Frame5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
underfoot upon the shore-
the kind you ext ra ct
Out, from in-side other
larger shells that
We are the necessary evils
that you protest with the lips
and use with the heart
We are triggers and
You will cut us out of the flesh you love
to spite what you have built from us.
I ___ YouLife taught me onlyI ___ You6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
that love is a syllable
between you and I
The Last Time"I'm telling you, this really is the last time. After tonight, I can't see you any more." I look at the girl in front of me. The girl who I've been having an affair with for the last 18 months. I got married a year ago tomorrow.The Last Time4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"You said that last time, and the time before, and every time for the last six months. You know you don't mean it, you'll call me up again next week. You can't do without me." She sounds desperate
"I have to stop; my wife doesn't know. It'd tear her apart and I can't do that to her. I love her and I always will. Nothing you can do will stop that and nothing you can say will make me leave her."
Tears well in her eyes "What about me? Don't you love me? Can she say something that would make you leave me? You're the only man in my life, I love you too, just the same as you say you love her except you don't love her. I know you don't love her because you love me. I know you love me otherwise why would you keep coming back to me, I know you love me..." She trails off
her picture.I found a picture in my box,her picture.6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Hidden by hundreds more.
The dazzling photo caught my breath,
I met this girl before.
Clothed in a gown of satin and silk,
She held my eyes forever.
Light spilled upon her beautiful face;
Smile lit brighter than ever.
Set flowing against her flawless frame,
Was an illuminating gold.
Each sparkling piece above her chest
Reflecting light as they were told.
Beyond this dress was something more,
What pulled me from the start.
Her figure, her eyes, this pretty girl
Completely stole my heart.
Mesmerized in her perfection,
I couldn't help but count the ways.
My hand took to her every line;
An unexplainable maze.
Endlessly long and narrow,
Her shape was nothing more.
This trail of elegant thinness
Began along the floor.
Though her legs were covered in golden sheen,
The shadows spoke their story.
Moving along, just inches above
Was all that held her glory.
Her fingers fell below her hips,
Each delicate, soft and long.
The sharp curve of hipbones seized my stare,
SensesIt always seems to begin with a mutual look into the eyes. A mere moment where your gaze catches theirs, and you cannot even help yourself. You cannot look away. It's as if the agreement is than and there, without a word, without a sound, without a nod or a touch... just a look. And that is where this story begins. It begins in the eyes. That fire burning deep in his eyes...Senses6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
It will burn us both.
Beginning in the eyes, the feeling lends itself to touch. Touch is an amazing thing. The feeling of warm soft skin through the slenderness of fingertips. Brushing lightly up their shoulders, lightly caressing the collarbone - the senses awakening, now, sending fire through your blood and shivers through your body. Fingers crawling up your neck and to your chin... following the natural curvature of the face, rising to your lips and leaving you helpless... falling into their sweet touch.
You cannot look back. You don't want to.
Your lips begin to tremble, but you cannot help but embrace their
You make me happy.You call me at 1You make me happy.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
AM crying and all
I can do is smile
because I love the
sound of your voice
even when it's
hidden among tears
and sharp breaths
Bestowed Upon Me a CurseBestowed upon me, a curse, yes.Bestowed Upon Me a Curse2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
One told of pure blood and a simple white dress.
It is my fault, yes indeed, for I am the one who made her soul bleed.
I sliced and drove my knife in her skin, for it was her fault she begged for one night of sin.
We did not wed for that sort of game, we wed for our love and money, plus fame.
Alas, I'll never regret using that knife, for she was a succubus, not my wife.
the absolute and withinthe absolute and within10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The Absolute and Within
The night sky
and the clouds danced
a white tarantella
for the coming change
as the wind sang
an upbeat dirge
in the key of diamond dust
from every ring
That was the night
Humanities MistakeHe's an angel from heaven with wings made from feather, his arm's made from steel and his skin made of leather.Humanities Mistake5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
His eyes like lights in a night made from cloud, his chest made from darkness, his heart does it shroud.
With his hair just like fire and his smile just like coal, with an axe for a spine and a sword for a soul.
Boots made of skulls and a jacket from skin, a shirt made of glass, quite dangerously thin.
With a knife in his hand and shine on his boots, his breath being toxic, the air it pollutes.
With lift of his arm and a grin on his face, blood being smeared all over the place.
Blood on the ground and blood on the floor, blood on the walls and blood on the door.
Knive wounds in babies and their blood on their mothers, children who cry out to be saved by the others.
Pointless it is, and worth all it's not, to try to escape is not worth a shot.
He's an angel of death and fear he brings, with his voice bringing pain whenever he sings.
making such chaos and embracing such sin, he
Spelling Hopeon the linoleum tiles she laySpelling Hope5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a faded wraith of what once was
a shadow of what could have been.
she held the seeds of death in her hand:
red, white, and blue.
death whispers in her ear.
come now, my sweet child
take my seed inside you, and
in just a little while
safe in my arms you'll be
come to me, and i will give you rest.
the remnants of her life lay scattered around her
like fallen leaves cast from a dying tree,
like so much driftwood on the road to nowhere.
the polaroids, the letters and the postcards,
all just memories now, just old, old things of the past
smiles long faded flickered in her sight
the words swam and dived deep into her mind.
she had long since given up on crying.
the twin streams that traced the contours of her face
had not, and never will be enough
to empty the oceans of pain beneath.
soon enough even the salt-waters had dried up
sinking in deep through her skin and bones
leaving only the ugly, festering cracks behind.
the words haunted her, in waking and
dearest --dearest --9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If I could be so fortunate
as to become boiling water,
I would hold steady in
a passive roll and evaporate
from here, maddened
yet shamefully condensed,
before your hand
could wipe me away.