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underthis delirium is likeunder1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
a kiss: momentary,
placid,
and perhaps insidious.
dreams stretch their watery
fingers, listless
and profound, over these
reflections—
they twine in my hair,
thread between my fingers
(like flowers, or maybe hope),
and drench my skirts
with lost longing.
look, pre-Raphaelites, Elizabethans,
Victorian women of all ages:
this is what comes
of daring to desire.
stars burst before my eyes,
flowers sprout
in my lungs,
the last ray of light has gone
and my world is black
and blue.
I am gorged and oversoaked
with sleep.
Androphobiai was stitched lips and a flightless raven heart-Androphobia8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
all sex and a contorting spine;
his own lips engraving 'kiss me's' on empty stars.
& between you and me: i feared his teeth,
& tongue, & honest organs-
with skin that begged, 'please, don't touch me.'
don't touch me.
don't fucking touch me.
i am not soft.
there is a war raging in my lungs,
screaming through the uncharted galaxies
of my wanderlust heartstrings.
i am not soft.
i am lust, & war, & envy—
i am sin,
crooked, misshapen,
& the kind of prosetry yet to be proofrea
relapsethis, I think,relapse1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
is the way that empires
fall.
there are sometimes
catastrophes—
Vesuvius, Alexandria—
but I will not go out
in such an explosive fashion
this time.
my second death
is preceded by decline,
slow and inglorious;
erosion working its
weary charm
upon my architecture.
the difference is this:
disaster is unprecedented.
it is a noble sort of way to fall,
at the hands of that which
you could not control.
but I am allowing myself
to crumble to dust.
the forces of entropy
have not strengthened:
I have simply stopped cobbling myself
back together.
someday, archaeologists
will discover my ruins
and sigh
RepossessionYour words tore into my abdomen like vultures feeding onRepossession8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the raw emotion their filthy wings stirred up from the dust.
My ribs cracked from the blow.
But, I think sometimes
of how these were the ribs
that should have chased you away from me,
quietly wondering how you managed to
slither past this cage of bone and flesh
to engrave your fingerprints into my marrow.
You were sweat & spice & scars-
Your eyes,
a thunderstorm of black and blue sex
jarring and devouring my insides,
shaped a faithless religion
through the cracks & broken shards
of my hollowed out womb.
(I want my insides back.)
TroyYou have too much time on your hands, Love,Troy10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
folding paper cranes with broken fingers,
wishing to see northern lights in the eyes of strangers.
There are no lions between your bed sheets
who understand your hunger better than I-
You are licking my wounds; one with the wild.
I swear it's you behind these eyelids- untamed
and desired by this lonely poetic canvas
stained with blood, ink, and words I can't fucking say.
You look like a Goddess standing there reading my skin
quiet and shameless, proud of the gaping hole in my chest.
I know it then, like I know my own counterclockwise heart;
I should never trust my own kind.
"I'll build
I miss you, and i can't say i'm sorryI miss you10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
because these slender, spider fingers
ache to trace the curved letters of your name tag,
emily. i notice you write everything in caps.
( have i ever told you
how much i enjoy saying your name, -EMILY. )
you are screaming to the world, quietly.
but we, we are mid-morning whispers
over stale, back room coffee,
silent eyes, and window pane love.
these hearts were runaways once;
hitchhikers on a trail to nowhere.
you shared pieces of yourself with me then,
emily, between beats and bathroom stalls.
you were a gargoyle under the heat
of july summer. evenings were our playg
abortionI.abortion1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
there is a story
about a girl
who throws herself down the stairs, because her
baby's father is her father and she can't have her sibling
also her kid.
it ends
with her becoming a harlot
that the world can fondle
when ever it pleases.
II.
there is a story of a girl
who sits in the clinic, waiting
to be probed by the doctor
and carved out like a turkey
by the assistants.
she is thinking that
the world has always disliked killing babies
even though
they have made it simpler.
it ends with her
leaving empty.
Poetry,She is stardust leaving sweet bonesPoetry,11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
in her wake. A trail of poetic destruction
conceived in verse--answering questions
with kisses. There is a hunger in her
freckled constellations, like spider webs
woven together with golden thread.
Like the wild roses she braids in her hair:
She walks backboned and head held high;
the strongest of letters on a page
left to rest in your mouth.
Closed mouthed,I tried to devour myself in my sleep,Closed mouthed,1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
all tight lipped and tongueless—
hours after you left me
with only an unbeating heart
keeping me company.
Callused fingers made me shiver,
but never managed to make me burn.
Instead, they left me feeling cold—
a frostbitten liar with a snake for a tongue.
An unnamed poetic.
I'm dreaming of red skies
and dragons of old—
I'm begging, and I'm begging,
and I'm begging—Please—warm me up.
Set fire to these bones—
Give me a real reason to scream.
Because, there rests an old poet
in the farthest reaches of my soul
and she longs to fight this fire with flames.
[
Kissed With Nightshade IIShooting stars fall where they may, and IKissed With Nightshade II1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
catch them only long enough
to tell them they were never stars.
Yes, you are broken;
but honey, you were never whole.
You are but dust -
Skin and bones and empty cavities
begging to be filled.
You are an empty urn,
harboring a nameless death;
Even ashes wouldn't call you home.
But do not let your heart be turned to stone -
loveless and alone.
Baby, one day your pitter-patter pulse
will stir.
And some brave boy will set a fire in your core,
calling every poor soul that came before
a coward.
You are not a star.
Love is a collision:
haphazard pieces bursting into worlds.
If you do not crash,
you w
GravityAutumn wanted to learnGravity6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
how to
fall.
So, the galaxy of dead trees
coiling in your lungs
devoured her spine.
Your gifts,
a lifeline wrapped around
her neck like a noose;
an orange and red
assisted suicide.
& you said "God bless your
heart." like some divine
higher power could forgive
her for loving you.
Achromatic Dreamstoday, god gave me present.Achromatic Dreams1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
-
i.
stilted windows, white bones
decaying lungs and my mind races
at the rate of a lone moth's jaded wings
we taste better alone
ii.
clemency is earned
by the damned, by the damned
arbitrary sacrifices
we belong to nobody
iii.
and she bowed with artless grace
kissed the sky, shed stardust tears
choked on angelic moonshine
we draw our own constellations
-
today, i gave god presence.
you can't break memy heart is your ashtray.you can't break me1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
i'm your trashcan where
you toss your old garbage
and i attempt to dodge
your incoming problems:
the fact that i won't
let you fuck with me,
your whiny girlfriend who
doesn't like it when you
cheat, your parents always
kicking you out, no money
to pay for the crack.
my mind is your punching bag.
i take it all, i absorb your
abuse like a sponge. i let
you peel apart the layers
of my mind and find out what
makes me tick, what makes
me sick, what softens my heart.
i let you take me, i don't
care. i don't.
my body is a work of art
you bought to hang on you
'X' Marks The SpotI am a pirate,'X' Marks The Spot11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
a ghost among the sunken ship
of your treasure trove heart.
Like the last bit of rum in the jug,
I enjoy the way 'fuck' rolls off your tongue,
as if you invented its meaning.
I try to articulate that one syllable,
match your way of speech-
You've never needed to dress your words-
dip them in ink or paint them in poetry
upon the exotic map of my sun-kissed curves.
I have drowned so many times
in the green sea of your eyes
that I am coughing up seaweed
& weak bones.
You tell me not to speak-
that such words sound dirty on my tongue
that my spine is made for beauty
and not for a bounty.
But you, you are a plague
Dragons BloodYou are an art journal,Dragons Blood10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
all scraps of paper and profound quotes
of those you say "I'll fucking know one day",
because you love to shock me
with even more profound profanities
and those watercolor fingers
you use to shut me up.
Gently. Always gently.
You leave me moon-eyed;
Dragons Blood still lingering
in the wake of your
heartbeats against mine.
TigressShe is the kind of girl who smothers herself in astronomy,Tigress11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
New Age philosophies and coffee shop poetry.
All fire and dragon scaled-
She hides her tiger stripes behind bruises and ink stains,
living her life by way of verse-
throwing Hemingway around like insults.
Writing her letters to the moon,
she hides her heart underneath her own floorboards,
folding blank paper birds just to set them free at 3AM.
But, it's the lipstick stained collars,
the rose thorned fingers,
and the dead stars in her chest cavity
that tell her- even a tigress can bleed.
LunulaeThe moon waned anorexic,Lunulae1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Bones flaunted with risque abandon.
Night stretched thin, translucid
In lamplight and wavering haze.
Anaemic rain, cloaked
In slack shimmers of loose cloud
Entrails. Summer, but wind whistled
Frigid through spinal craters
And rattleskin ribs.
The stars went out, purged one by
One. A glimmer, a shudder,
A sickle-cell muse.
Aerophane moon: bird-boned, bird-bred
Lunulae whims.
little white lies tissue paper skin and barbed wire spineslittle white lies1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
"i haven't been sleeping well."
butterfly wing smiles and porcelain bones
"the medicine will help."
sparrow hearts and rose petal hair
"don't worry."
undersea eyes and sailboat stomachs
"these things pass in time."
He thinks her a Goddess,and he whispers, "Little bird—He thinks her a Goddess,1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your stardust arms are quaking,
allow me to hold up your universe."
Curband then I realized, those alluring wordsCurb2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
meant & mean nothing more than stained & enamored
libretti.
to be foolishly led towards the belief that
every intrinsic court of dancing light
is meant for me.
and enticed by the swift shadows behind your dark
sleuthing, carrying a perfect tune of your unsaid
libretto.
to be reminded in every waking moment that
rest is better left for the strong-hearted dead-
live and let live.
just curb.
Opheliaoften, she is left marredOphelia1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
by his lonesome nothing, in charred memories
of patterned streets embedded in
trembling cobblestone breaths. sometimes,
she drowns herself in self-driven forlorn desires. her
rosebud mouth drinks half-formed
mystic mutterings, stealing willow patterned puddles
in revolution around adolescent sun-dreams of
morning glory, wrapped with forgiving
oak trunk solid earth bastion,
forever lost to live in his silence.
MEi. I fell in love with a girl who catalogued darkness,ME10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
sat in her room with the blinds closed and wrote down
187 ways it felt
in all of the different times she couldn't see.
My name was one of them,
#143, ash velvet, and I didn't know what she meant at the time
but the only description she wrote beneath it
was good night for stuffed animals
bad night for worn pillows.
And I'm sorry I made you dream of the rivers.
ii. I fell in love with a girl who never looked in the mirror
but dressed to perfection, somehow
in her blue skirt and black socks
white tennis shoes
and a smile crooked as the bottom side of Indiana –
yeah, I
Stephanie - Collab(I wrote us in free verse over every inchStephanie - Collab8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
of your tattered surface ).
you were the beatific grin
of a kindergartener high off oxygen,
mouth stretched wide as the entrance to hell,
black tongue bleeding virtuous sin like ichor.
(You taught me praying was for the weak
as I fell for your gypsum nails,
white teeth scrabbling over my chalkboard frame).
scribbled flesh tells no love story
but three layers of skin
worn thin along the length of our feverish bones.
(Garden flowers tucked away worms and dirt,
my ribs hoarded misspellings of my mother's name).
dipping your origami limbs into my ink
Mabonthere are dead leavesMabon7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
sprouting from her amber spine,
reaching with child-fingers
to devour the sun.
her skin is freezing,
seeping winter through
november pores.
seeking warmth,
the whiskey tongues
of godless boys
wish to decipher
the atlas of her thighs.
counting the sleepy fireflies
alight in her lungs- there is
wanderlust churning & warming
her frostbitten heartstrings.
swinging pendulum hips,
"I am the tease of autumn flames.
I breathe in mint sunsets,
& gasoline dreams."
Sta.sh
