Keys At The DoorWhat should I do? He asked,Keys At The Door3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with my hand
on his collarbone;
What can you
do? I said.
let dinner run
and tell yourself
that she's late
Coffee CupHe longed to be her coffee cupCoffee Cup3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Purple lipstick around his edges
Slender fingers wrapped around him
Every single morning
And the nights she couldn't sleep
AwayTheAway3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Life- Ticket for OneAlone doesn't come with peanuts,Life- Ticket for One3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
That's an upgraded seat.
Her money buys illusions of
Impatient for the life left waiting.
But one way tickets are dirty
Little secrets and
Passport stamps are paper trails
That she drops like flower petals,
One by one,
"I chose wisely..."
"I'm a fool..."
Her stories are just memories
Because now, no one will listen.
She traded everything for freedom
And a shoestring, not long enough
To tie a lonely noose.
A similar smile
Was lost at crossroads;
A happier path, lost some way back.
Now she finds a cracked smile
With more sinister lines...
Creases taken, rather than given.
At present, in-flight cocktails blur the
Engine noise, that drowns out
Whispered wordsJust a few words whispered to youWhispered words3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In your ear is what I want to do
Words you have heard often now
and you keep hearing if you allow
Words I will repeat and repeat
Every one for you a treat
You know what you will again hear
The words I whisper in your ear
Spoken soft and slow
My voice creaking low
They are only a few
I whisper: "I love you"
asphyxiashe broods in her bubble bathasphyxia3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
spindles with her slender spider-limb fingers
a soap-slickened scythe
she's mastering the solemn art of
like the faltering fowl she is,
her failure of flight was
besides, she had long lost her feathers
along with her sleep
and, since then, it has been
seven slow years
he was phosgene- born from light
he was phosgene- a merciless mass murderer
her long lasting war with him
had always ended
but not really,
as it never really ended at all,
not really, no
she leans back languidly,
pressing her backbone unto
her beaded, bubble-beaten bed
she looks out to the world through her weary window
she is momentarily molested by the sun's stare
and, it is almost as if the gray,
wool-woven clouds came over just to
clothe, cover, and calm her
celeste skies are ricocheted by lemon yellow lightning
and a cobalt hue
only to later be gunned down by a chalky,
rain drops drag down
a new beat to h
GerontophobiaI think maybeGerontophobia3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we smoke cigarettes to deny age,
to deny that there is something
that comes after now.
To pretend we will never be afraid
of mountain hiking
or climbing in and out of cars;
never be afraid of having too many stories
for no one to listen to;
never be afraid that the people we created
will leave us so alone
in sterile fluorescent rooms,
only hoping for Death's reunion
with the ones who walked in the world we loved.
I think maybe
we want to forget about our inelegant future,
where we yellow with fear
and find ever fewer hands to grasp
in the stale darkness of uncertainty.
i'm telling myself not to get my hopes up.It's been a long time since I felt like this.i'm telling myself not to get my hopes up.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's all small kicks of my heartbeat
and subtle smiles when no one's looking.
I'm checking my phone messages
more times than any girl should,
but you're not letting me down.
You remind me of a time when things were easy
before I memorized what sadness felt like
and stopped feeling alive.
And for the first time, I don't feel broken
in a way that can't be fixed.
I don't feel like I was built in a way
that doesn't fit.
ex. noun, a former loverlike a misprint of temperamentex. noun, a former lover3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you will go by and,
f a r e w e l l
i had you,
my dear. you left
and I always
thought we'd be fickle.
confession to my most preciousyou're beautifulconfession to my most precious4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you're a drop of perfection
you're so worthwhile and deserve only the best in life
and I can't promise you'll get it
but I can say you deserve it.
Monster inside my headI have a monster in my headMonster inside my head3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and it wants to come out
You've fed it, it has grown
from your actions did it sprout
I try to hold it back
but it's so utterly mad
I can't hold it back
it's the worst I've had
Stronger and stronger
It breaks apart my walls
I can't hold it back
My final barrier falls
It fights, it kicks
it bites, now you fall
You've had it coming
for yet another call
You push me around
now you will get it back
run away if you can
it's your skull I'll crack
This monster inside
I will no longer hide
it has destroyed its cage
you will feel all my rage
When The Manic Sleeps Alonei.When The Manic Sleeps Alone3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Rouge northwest of facing nowhere, this signal of a sign meant for someone else.
Blubbery headaches and I ain't sleepin' too good complaints.
Spastic stretching for the spin - the last elastic spindle
this final pinnacle of pressure.
It's loosening, uncurling from my fingers
further into sloshed, slashed, and slammed
phalanges twisting with intention.
That sickening grip, cultivating nonsense
tightening without purpose or correction
scrawling these verbose blisters
To convey the skeletal density
the under-layer of basis and belief
Mortar enforcing the busted shack
I guess you could say I don't really forgive people.
In some paralleled universe, this was completely worth it.
Most of the debauchery, and unforgivable.
Every fuckin' word.
Look. We're both disgusted, so just back off.
The inability toned my muscles in lard. I got fat - fat and lazy.
I'll Be ThereHold my Hand:I'll Be There3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'll Be There
Hold my hand, dear-
It'll be alright.
Don't let your trepidation show,
Even though it's hard.
Hold my hand, dear-
Because my love for you
Is the sea-
Hold my hand, dear-
Walk side-by-side with me.
Don't cry, even though life is rough-
Hold my hand, dear-
Because I'll be your rock.
And I promise to you
That I'll always be there.
Just like you were
OmegaThere is a wolf lurking in my doorway;Omega3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
our eyes holding breathless conversations
as secrets whisper through the stroke of my pen
into the awaiting lungs of strangers.
Soon young pup, you'll have nothing left to say.
My heart is woven together with tight-knit words,
blood red Poe, and thumping Hemingway-
Yet, no headstrong Omega sleeps
within this slightly cracked, ribcage embrace.
"I am unafraid of forests with teeth."
Sarcastic OrgasmMy eyes are not flatSarcastic Orgasm3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My world is not square
And all my illusions are exact
There is no truth within my lectures
There is no point to my rants
And every hiccup means the world to me
Yet all of everything and all my precious nothings burn in our touch
Our breath soils our heartbeats
And our messages are entirely encoded in cereal boxes so children are the only ones polluted
It is the best way to commit suicide
And we are all just so miserable
I grow tired of I's and me's and my's
Repetition is my only sin, one we are too keen to share
If only we did not live in wishes and in the grip of ourselves and each other
Nature would prevail
For while she pokes herself in and out of gardens with her weeds and thorns
She has been caged and we beat her with all our nothings
Our too precious nothings that we have to stop polishing
So we can swing again
Or we will bruise something important the next time
She Called Herself MidnightMy vixenShe Called Herself Midnight3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the raven child
She sucks on clove cigarettes,
pausing to cough out flies and carbon.
She's as ugly as she's ever been,
gilded from glue and obsidian.
from raw meat.
Thought of as lovelyShe struggles.Thought of as lovely3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A war rages in her mind.
Which should she be?
Her own natural beauty
or listen to the society who says
'that's not good enough.'
Make her cheeks sharper.
her lips should be fuller!
Can her real self be enough?
Or must she tear her flesh and paint her skin
to be thought of as lovely?
Will her freckled skin be hidden under powder?
"Your nose is too big!
Your chest is too small!"
their yells bounce in her mind
all like grenades waiting to detonate.
Which can she choose
when one holds glamor and self-loathing
and the other certain doom?
but sometimes it just2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
doesn't make sense.
i forget how to start
and pick it up
from the middle
and go back after.
The Option."Why do you want that option?"The Option.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"Because I want to die, if you must know."
He wants it, so he can take it, tick the box for the final option.
He means it, he does, he doesn't care how much you scream "No!"
He wants the option, for when he is discarded like a broken toy,
That he can end his life, and stop all the hurt, stop living.
He no longer wants to be an emotionless decoy-
I no longer want to be tortured, in the land of the living.
See? He and I, finally agree, that it's what's best for us, for me,
Yes, we agree that I should die, although it is a bitter choice.
A bitter choice? But the prospect of leaving it all? Being free?
And that, is the appeal, it is what makes me agree with the voice.
We finally agree, that once everything is gone, and we're left to rot,
That we shall take the final option, it's what's best for us, for me.
We finally agree, that once everything is gone, and w
Camera ShudderSo manyCamera Shudder3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
rely on blinking
ChildChildChild3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Ancilla, gillyflower, cathedral, chime and stone,
frightened child, you were only thirteen
when the dove pecked you,
so frightened, I dreamt my belly split open,
pain rang like bells in my my bones. Virgin, gillyflower,
my child was a gillyflower but she stung,
fragile as a wasp's wing she was,
she is, cathedral, chime and stone and my mother cried,
"How could you, how could you," all the way home
but there is no home, the river tastes
of mud and piss. Whore.
They called me whore, not virgin, not blessed.
I wanted, want to be stone,
and my mother wept.