Drowning in WonderlandThe moon floods the world in a pale sea of illusion,Drowning in Wonderland3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
while I'm slipping through the cracks, falling further.
I see your face, and it's you I'm reaching for.
With arms outstretched.
Fading to black.
Will you stay in the star-crossed wasteland?
The clocks are flying by, their hands waving goodbye.
The hourglass shedding granular tears of woe.
The void is swirling with chamomile and earl gray streams,
and with cunning eyes the chesire smiles.
You watch the scene in maddening fashion,
We're all mad here, are we not?
Drink me. Eat me.
I am drowning in the sea of Wonderland.
White Rabbit PillWonderland I am swallowing youWhite Rabbit Pill3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Blue-white, blue-white, blue-white
Tumbling down my rabbit-hole esophagus into the flooded warren
Where swims the swiftly dissolving key to my stable growth.
Wonderland I am swallowing,
But this will never do.
The words come when I call them, tumbling &
Stumbling over one another to be first
During the appointment, having meant what I meant, or not, as I pleased,
And all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't
Knit my meanings together again
Oh, Wonderland, Wonderland, Wonderland.
Here I come. Again. How dull.
Tea? Sandwiches? Cakes?
I can't v
Break MeBittersweet humanity,Break Me2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Tear me down again,
Brick by brick I'll fall,
Bare me with your cutting words,
Rendering my soul immobile,
Leer at my brokenness,
Leave me to my fate,
Fear now controls my mind,
And it begins with the rising sun.
starvetoday, i don't hate myself enoughstarve2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to deny the hungers for -
a cup of coffee that will treat me like sin dancing to the pulse of my bloodstream
the absence of guilt
cracks in personality
screaming poems silently at my reflection
today, i will gorge
on the things i vowed to give up.
today, i will break vows.
today, i am a glutton
for relapse and binge cycles,
for starvation and changing reflections.
tomorrow, i will wish
i could be the skeleton that
hangs in my closet.
[ leave the tears where they lie,
take the fallen stars and ripped up wings,
do not regret spinning circles
around vices. ]
the natural progression of thingstomorrow i will try to write you a postcard.the natural progression of things1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
it will be hard, and i will spend hours trying
to think of a way to compress these last
three years into a single box.
‘Did you see the last Dodgers game, I bet you cried’,
maybe, or ‘Sorry I punched you in the face, I hope
You’re still bruised enough to remember me’.
yesterday, the neighbor asked for sugar
and i filled your old coffee mug to the brim
to give to him and when he tried to give it back
i said, “honey, keep it, no one likes Nickelback anyway.”
i wake up in the middle of the night because
of things like that, you know, wake up with a hand reaching
toward the other side of a too big bed, bridging the distance
like the Colossus. we are both struggling to make ends meet.
after all, most nights i still think i can feel the ghost of your
breath whispering over my wrists: a secret, a promise, a manacle.
i’m listening to your favorite band
at three o’clock in the morni
and yet i cannot write of youi am attracted to the broken,and yet i cannot write of you2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the lonely, the nutcracker before he was made prince.
i am false in a way that shames me:
burning through daydreams instead
of looking for their existence,
lately i have neglected the self-induced
hallucinations i am prone to.
you are gorgeous in your honesty.
please do not love me,
i am afraid i will break you.
do not question the poems,
they are the only things tying me
to mortality; the only things i will give
i guard my secrets the way misers keep
useless pennies tucked between their eyelids,
savings for the day i stop giving out poetry
as if i could hand out my burdens,
and walk away like the skin ribs show through
never saw anxious fingers plastered against them,
forget the smell of blood, rubbing alcohol
wounds, confessions i have not been able to speak.
GarnetShe was the stained glass windowGarnet2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that I arranged in shards from broken
glass I found scattered within the walls
of the town’s vacant church.
It started dying the day I started living,
and for that we were allied, the church
She rose from the floorboards,
looked on past the pews; her colors
were not that of paint, but of blood.
My hands were shaking, dripping
and splattering at her feet.
Her skin was transparent. Her soul
was jagged and dangerous.
I was the stained glass window
left over in the hollowness of the
abandoned structure. Beautifully
garnet, wine red and cracked.
Can I Make This Dissapear? Do I Really Want to?How can I lift the hazeCan I Make This Dissapear? Do I Really Want to?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And let in the light
Despite everything I try
My heart is so unclear
Don't look at me today
I cannot change your mind
When I myself cannot think
And the decision is unmade
I've lost in myself in the dark
Freedom that seems so boundless
Surrounds you like a sunbeam
And I cannot reach you
No matter how hard I push
You pull away from me
Rejection isn't an option
So I will stay away
And hope this will fade
Dissapear in the haze.
Take Me AwayTake me back, back in time,Take Me Away2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A time and place I once called mine,
Where the air was clean and I was free,
And the friends I had surrounded me,
Take me to the place from so long ago,
A place in my heart thats no longer whole,
Where a single word wouldn't break me down,
And I could always stand my own ground,
Take me away from this place that I am at,
A place where I'm not always up to bat,
Where I can rebuild myself and my values,
And I no longer walk this lonely avenue,
Take me far away from my home,
A place where I will no longer feel alone,
Where my simple heart will fill full and free,
And I will can just be me.
to be noti am combat boots. i am wishes on supernovas. i am washing away the year's dust, i am washing away the year's hurt. i am not paper-cuts, i am not ink stains, i am not words hidden in the moment before pen touches paper. i am the absence of regret, or guilt, or grief. i am never grief. i am never tears. i am never hysterical breakdown.to be not2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i am always hysterical breakdown clawing. i am never broken bones. i am never splinters. i am always accident: it was an accident i am an accident i don't know how that accident happened. i am always cold. i am never done writing about how cold it is. how it feels like i have ice for bone, i will melt in the warmth. you will see tears. you will see hysterical breakdown. you will see scars, and i will not know where they came from. i am a wreck waiting to collide with your confidence in me.
i am fifteen, learning to break promises. i am sixteen, wondering what part of older was sweet. i am seventeen, wishing i won't waste so much time trying to be what i'm
Dreading the NightWhat do you do in the still quiet of night,Dreading the Night2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
As thoughts race through a restless mind,
Sleep is not a willing ally and exhaustion set in,
Yet still you lay remembering every detail,
Every single mistake glaring you in the face,
And loneliness comes crashing into your heart,
No matter how hard you try it always returns,
Time passes so slowly it hurts without end,
Bad habits cannot be easily broken they say,
But can yours be truely broken at all you wonder,
As you lie thinking to yourself in the darkness,
What was it that you should have said instead,
Still when finally sleep takes you its not enough,
You know you will wake to the sun exhausted,
Tomorrow the cycle returns and you dread the night.
I Can't Help ItI get my hopes up,I Can't Help It3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I hope and I dream,
My heart flutters,
And My smile beams,
I look at you,
And everything gleams.
A chance for change,
A place to restart,
Maybe one day,
I'll give you my heart.
I feel so much better,
Than I did before,
I've picked myself up,
Off of the floor.
You are so sweet,
And your eyes shine,
I can't help,
To want to make you mine!
this is how to dance for a crowdstop wishing on stars.this is how to dance for a crowd2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
instead, wish on razor blades
learn to stop tears before they begin.
i have not given myself
time to grieve.
words will not be enough
to soothe your aches;
poetry will cause my recovery,
and every night after, when
i lose my secrets to a family
formed of ink-splattered mouths.
i cannot play games with emotions
when someone else's heart is on the line.
i hanged my own a long time ago.
weight loss is not a badge of honor.
the adults in my life have not
been responsible enough to keep
coloring within the lines;
they are canvases i don't dare throw
out, but cannot bear to look at.
boys are stupid.
four is too many in a family,
so we have become three.
or two sisters. or one girl.
or four distant planets
revolving around a home.
this is how to dance for a crowd.
crystallophonethere is a punchcard sincrystallophone3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like a queen of spades smoldering in an alley.
you hear how the gears churn,
singing faster than we did before
back when black magic dropped like a
pair of socks from the sky with supplies
taped to a note that said
(oh, look at you now)
such a beautiful brain:
runs on gasoline?
have a gallon
or we can call it a balloon,
and a new pair of glasses
for your tapered eyes
(you peel the bark back on the logs,
but you're not sure what you see),
and life says,
either nail jello to a tree,
or keep your
icicles hanging from the eaves,
caterpillars frolicking in the ashes,
your 'Sam, I still don't have your number,'
and your totaled passion:
someone to hang inside out with,
string you up like a steak with.
what the hunger
is trying to tell me
my brain churns like butter,
my insides aflare, my chakras combusting,
Fragment 1She was one of those poemsFragment 12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and I was one of those writers.
Her religion is hers alone,
but she shares it with heaven.
A gust rushes up to her
from the grave face and
bathes her in some divinity
that looks like saturated
starlight. Heaven died
in 2005, but she still reads
to her on the anniversary
of her last journey home.
She has been to too many funerals
and not enough birthdays;
her eyes are huddled
and wary of people now,
maybe not of people,
but of how quickly they go away
and don’t return.
She wore black too many times,
and things like that just
sort of stick.
That’s the nice thing about
loving heaven though: you realize
that someone is on your side
up there. When she drives
the two hours to her university,
her prayer beads swing from
the rearview mirror like
they are waving goodbye.
She still has her religion,
but she spells it differently now.
Her dreams are holy, and she
obeys them like a young creed she
carved into the mud in her
backyard after a seaside sto
for onceColdfor once5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like the cavern where crimson vellum once resided
Drenched in reticence,
your empty blue eyes do nothing
but freeze the blood in these veins
surrounded by phantoms,
i lie in the dark next to your fading silhouette
between sheets that hold so many memories,
they are empty,
like the chestnut eyes that bore into yours
And as the rain falls harder
as it falls faster
washing down the streets
through deep alleys,
down endless roads,
i pray it takes me with
eight things that hurt more than a broken boneone,eight things that hurt more than a broken bone3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i have never had broken bones,
but i imagine it would snap,
splinter, pierce my skin.
i imagine it would be
the pieces i cannot put back together
scratching their way out of
this body bag.
i imagine my demons would
not rest until my arms are torn
by the claws of my inside.
i'd imagine broken bones
would not hurt as much
as broken confidence,
(my lack of it.)
fluctuating positions in life.
the backbone of a dreamer
who finds nightmares her companion,
the fingertips of a mother,
pressed against feverish foreheads.
the lips of a teenage girl,
forgetting what truth sounds like.
i cannot remember the last time i did.
knotted hair pulled out at the roots.
nail polish remover spilled into wounds.
lips chapped red.
burned at the stake
dying on a scaffold,
unable to speak.
numbers on the scale,
tick-tack-toe on my wrist.
every blistering insecurity
that sends me spiraling.
This Poem Is Not For YouOrwell never returns my calls.This Poem Is Not For You2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I think he owes me that much at least
and when he stood me up in Berkshire,
the groundskeeper told me he’s been
dead for years, but I’m sure he paid
him off. The grave face had no face,
and spoke no words of his actual own.
He was tattooed.
was not a man but a low doorway,
one of too much metal and stone.
My Alice hands couldn’t manage
the doorknob, so I slipped my letter
under the crack. The groundskeeper
read it after I left I saw; it probably
just sounded like madness to him.
Nonsense poetry is the language
I am most articulate in. George
would understand I’m sure.
We were both altered by an era
neither of us lived to see, the day
he passed on the disease
to me; and when I read
101, I screamed. He never
told me that it wasn’t just
an invention of his mind.
It exists in my mind too.
There was never a footnote
for phobia affliction.
On my first date with Margaret,
I told her my love affairs with dead
coffee fueledcoffee induced jitters -coffee fueled2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
- keep the sleep at bay.
exhaustion that claims all conscious thought,
from the living,
robot, go forth and operate.
mechanical responses to stimuli,
devoid of emotions, a caffeinated mess. spill
hot, spill elbow grease.
no life is greater than the ability to function.
What Do You DoCould I pour out my heart,What Do You Do3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Or would you not listen,
As I make my words into art,
Or ignore me as my tears glisten,
Could I paint you a picture,
Full of colors so bright,
That you might consider,
And let your heart take flight,
Could I write you a story,
Full of a love so sweet,
To ease all your worry,
And make your heart skip a beat,
What could I do to make you see,
How should I describe this feeling,
How do I show you that I'm only me,
Why do I prevent my heart from healing?
A modern Pocahontas tale:Chapter 7A modern Pocahontas tale:Chapter 73 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
From Pocahontas's journal-
I'm sorry that I've not written anything for last one month. Actually so many things happened in a short time that I hardly got any time. But tonight I got some time to meet you. I'm confused, too confused. So I really need some time to think. Will you hear me dear diary?
Then from where I should start? Let me think. Alright let's start from the day I met John Rolfe in the Blue Bird Restaurant.
I could still remember the paper Rolfe left for me. And I never expected that. John betrayed me! How could he? I told me he was trying to save my company from the conspiracy. I believed him. I really believed him. I loved him with all my heart & soul. I spent my nights crying for him, painting his face in my mind. I lived with his memory, I dreamed him at night. He was like the air I breathe in. But was it the reward for my faith? My angry eyes were full of tears; my heart was crying not to believe the words Rolfe said about my John. I wanted to listen to m
gravity's holdsuicide is selfish,gravity's hold3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and rightfully so.
when your mind bends back upon itself
with pressure enough to burst open the
floorboards of your stomach,
something has to give.
and though i refuse to jump from
ships before they’ve even set sail,
i know, before happiness unfurls itself,
before recovery is washed out by the tide,
when you are anchored in self-doubt,
leaps of faith feel less like jumping,
more like walking into thin air,
just to make sure gravity still has a hold on you.
sometimes, risks are the only way
to untie yourself
from this pier holding you steady.
sometimes i am greedy,
gasping for answers that slip from my hold
the way i lose track of hours in the night.
sometimes i forget my sanity
when inane solutions appear before me,
macbeth's dagger never seemed so tempting,
until it was turned against me.
happiness isn't always found the hard way,
after suffering, backward glances
reveal how blind i was to other paths.
still, i would not take back the journey,
it has taught m
InsanityI take a path in my mind,Insanity2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Lost in the shadows,
Unable to escape,
Surrounded by the wilderness,
Over-grown and confusing,
With wolves nipping at my heels,
But I cannot find an exit.
[Prussia x Reader] If I die youngHe was strong. There was no doubt about it, he was strong. Prussia had easily survived through all sorts of difficult situations. The only time he shed a tear was when Der Alte Fritzaka Frederick the Greatdied. He wasn't going to admit to that though, he was Prussia! The embodiment of awesome![Prussia x Reader] If I die young3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
But Prussia knew his life wasn't eternal. Although it was already incredibly long, due to being a country and all, countries sometimes dissolve. Starting once as the ever so small Teutonic Knights in the 15th century, to the proclamation of the Kingdom of Prussia in 1701. Everything seemed great, thanks to Frederick he even became a great European power.
Power doesn't last forever. He had known it, but always shrugged it off. He was too awesome to die! He couldn't die!
However, starting after 1871 Prussia started merging into Germany bit by bit. He was losing his distinctive identity. His people started calling themselves 'Deutsch' instead of 'Preuße'. This went on for quite some