GoneThere's a door inside my head.Gone4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's trapped me here and I can't get out.
Every time I reach for the handle
Pain sears throughout my body and I retreat back in my mind.
I can't come through.
My thoughts are contained.
The outside world is a muffled scream
Trying to get through to me, but failing each time.
I pound both fists on the door.
But it doesn't even make a sound.
My attempts are feeble and I scream out
But all is silent in the nothingness inside my head.
I finally give up and let the black envelope me.
I slowly fade away as I embrace the darkness.
It folds around me and takes me away
Into the pain and loneliness inside my mind.
And the door opens up when I'm gone.
UglyUglyUgly3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The girl was graced with angelic beauty,
A halo of gold silk and wide blue eyes.
But it made her snide, it made her snooty;
Life was a contest and she was the prize.
Young travelers came from across the land,
Offering gifts of most divine nature.
She truly had them under her command,
Yet she still was as cold as a glacier.
One spring day, a man appeared at her door.
He was tired, he was visibly weak.
To that girl, the weary man was a bore,
And moved on to a man with fine physique.
He refused to relent, and the next day,
He gave her a package, tied up with string.
She laughed in his face, for that was her way,
Saying "I care not for the things you bring."
The man saw what others refused to see;
Ugliness was found deep within her heart.
So a curse was placed, under the oak tree,
An old spell that made her beauty depart.
And then her body matched her horrid soul,
A vision that made men run to the hills.
But she did not hide; she went for a stroll;
The terrified faces gave her some th
If The World Is a Book I Want to Read Every PageIf The World Is a Book I Want to Read Every Page3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
If The World is a Book, I Want to Read Every Page.
Let me memorize each dotted "i"
of moonlights freckled face
Trace the silver ripples
of a seashores wrinkled page
Count the auburn stanzas 'tween
the depths of trembling trees
Ride upon the vessel
of a sun-kissed simile.
Open sky-stripped windows
to the sigh of cursive clouds
Shuffle through the metaphors
Awaking through the ground
Slant the sails of poetry
toward continents of sea
Deep into the jungles where
the verses lace the trees.
Catch the winds of free verse
Or the open waves of rhyme
Sift through ocean ballads
where the sunset greets the tide.
Study drops of scripture
as it clicks against the street
Sleep between the pages
of departed poetry.
SwanShe moves so softlySwan4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with the hem of her white dress brushing against her thighs
she is the space between your teeth
and the itch on the tip of your nose
She is the girl in the garden
with yellow roses braided in her hair
and the sun wrapped around her ankles
her lips are berry stained pink
and her eyes are like pools of water,
resting someplace you wish you could be
Her hair is soft and fine like milkweed
and forever brushing against her cheek with the wind
Her fingers are like butterflies,
fragile and fluttering,
curious for your touch
she wants to tell you how she wishes
she could paint her golden orange wings across your face
but her tongue is salt water
You lie still beside her
and listen to hear the spirit of the trees
and try not to worry how long it will be
before the wind sweeps her away
Rabbit Hole to HellFollow the hare in the waist coatRabbit Hole to Hell3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
With horns instead of ears
Blood flowing from its throat
Alice ignores all her fears
He runs into the forest
Knarled branches reaching for the pair
Scratching her face, arms and breast
Getting menacingly close to its lair
'Come Alice, down't dawdle, there's no time to lose'
Yellow fangs dripping and oozing with blood
'But perhpas your head, should the queen choose'
It cackled, it's eyes the color of mud
'The Mad Hatter is waiting, ready for tea
His mutilated guests hold no remorse
Because, dear Alice, you see
You're the main course'
He jumped down a rotting hole
Limbs sticking out the side
Ready to steal the innocent's soul
There's not point in trying to hide
Black decaying teeth sharp to the point
The grinning cat called to Alice
Head twisted out of its joint
Drawing her towards a world of malice
Alice peered in, eyes wide with curiosity
The limbs snatched for her face
They stole her with frightening velocity
Down the the damned underplace
As she fell
The DarknessYour're dreaming. Somehow you know you're dreaming because this can't be real. All around you there is nothing but darkness, black and unyielding. Never before have you been faced with such a velvety pitch black. It seems to stir, to move around you, caressing and biting your arms and legs. You can't see it or hear it move, but you can feel it. As the darkness swirls about you, you can't tell if you are floating or standing or if you're in a confined space or an open area.The Darkness4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Everything is confusing, out of place, yet you understand. It is complete and total chaos but in your mind it makes sense. You don't know how, but this darkness... you've felt it before, you know it.
You know the darkness and, somehow, the darkness knows you.
RefuseI need a way to escapeRefuse4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
This life that's burning down.
Go put on a brave face
And steal the flaming crown
I need a way to blind Justice.
Right the wrongs.
I'll be the next Augustus.
Write the Peaceful Songs.
Everything pales to,
When Brutus came to Caesar.
Defining moments of time,
Ordained by the divine teaser.
You think that I can't see?
Open your eyes to the sky,
To all that could be,
And never cease to fly.
If Hell should freeze over,
And Heaven's bars are closed,
I will refuse to die
Because I'm too afraid to be alone.
And I will never lie,
I'm afraid to die.
But if you're with me,
I'll refuse to cry.
Feel the hand of fate,
But you return only hate.
And I refuse to die alone,
But it may be too late.
I need a way to refuse
This crippling oppression
I have no direction.
I need a way to find myself,
Lose my mind in an endless tide.
Go put on a mask of self-doubt
And infiltrate the inside.
And I will never lie,
I'm afraid do die.
But if you're with me,
I'll refuse to cry
Put Us Back TogetherThough there be a thousand facesPut Us Back Together3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
extended in a throng,
I know each one's good graces
and those that I have wronged.
The mem'ries never fading
and all the times relating.
For when I had the circumstance
I never had even a small chance.
It is a sober thing
to hold a failure in your hands.
And recognize the sting
that I laid in where I stand.
I could say my name
and you could tell me yours.
But without pursued fame
what worth is mine to yours?
So I consider the inner mystery
that we wrestle through our history:
That pain should come without my bidding
and make a home within my heart.
But I defy this, as is fitting.
For there is more than what life starts.
Pain comes as a hooded blessing.
That we may come together and know
that while this life becomes distressing,
we are stronger together than we are alone.
True FearTrue Fear3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I sit and watch as my happiness runs around me
I look down tears begin to form under my eyes
they spill on to the floor my happiness stops
and comes to my side i pick it up and throw it
it lands across the room it falls to the floor hurt
I feel a smile come to my face a sinister smile
i get up and look at the happiness lay there
emotionless i laugh it tries to get up but it knows
it's been defeated I walk away i talk to myself " I
will never need that rotten thing no now that ive
got hate" i walk only stopping when i reach the window
I look down and on the window's edge I go
I sit watching as the world turns dark, children
becoming monsters adults ready to leave this
place this world of hate and torror I begin to laugh
"this place is a bitter world always being taken over
by the things we always push away" I jump down talking
to the air "the one true thing to fear... Is the fear of being
taken over" and down i fall untill my emotionless body
lays on the ground leaving this place of ter
Celestial LoveHer skin is not so soft as some,Celestial Love3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
nor eyes so bright,
nor hair as gold.
But still I go when she bid me come,
submit my rights,
keep growing old.
For while her star burns not so bright
as others glowing in the sky,
consider others' brightest light,
that instead of standing, fall to fly.
I'd rather have a fix-ed star,
sometimes cold, but of beauty astounding,
than a falling one that burns and chars,
that winks before a violent grounding.
So while I wait in times of cold
and wish for sunlight's warm rays,
I must remember times of old
when I still sought the falling stars' gaze.
Her eyes, as stars, are constancy.
As Polaris, ever true.
And though cold blows with frequency,
the sunlight burns the night through soon.
For my love is not a far away light,
only visible away from man,
but she lights the world, chases away the night,
for she shines above me like the sun.
So while the night is cold and dark,
do not despair in sorrowful display.
For while shadow seems so dreadfully stark,
A Bitter, Better ColdI tick the time awayA Bitter, Better Cold3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
in the ever shortening days
and I wonder if you still remember when you
used to draw us.
I remember the grains of graphite staining the tips
of your fingers
and the momentary conquering
of distance over the faded blue lines.
I wonder if all memories are fit only to serve themselves,
if they are only paintings in rooms of a Hermitage of cold and beautiful art.
So I start
to the reminiscing
which holds us no closer to the touch we're missing.
And so I sing again, again
to teach my heart to defend, again.
That somehow I might sleep away
the worse thoughts of a damning day
I'll rock myself to sleep in here
away from the dust
away from the fear.
trickles in my ears and leaves its bitter salt
leaves a funk of disposition
that sets me flat-footed on the fighting floor of life.
It's simple to trip over my own hearstrings
and break my nose on a gilded floor.
How sweet it must be to have a skin sewn tight
thoughts of youi would like to remember you by your silences, by the tiny nuances and way you wrote your words slanted. i hold onto the moments at night when i am neither sad nor lonely without you, and i always wish they would stay a bit longer. you were like my favourite ring that i wore everyday, and then suddenly one day you were gone; lost to a sink or a street sewer.thoughts of you3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
i will always think of you as a piece of art-strokes of colour and longing and mess all balled up into one tiny portrait. you are a thought in my heart that is always warm with remembrance and peace. sometimes i wonder if you think of me at night, if in your heart you remember me as a soft pillow as i remember you, but then i realize i am being silly.
and so i go to bed and try to rest my mind from thoughts of you.
DormantReality is a prison.Dormant4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Reality is a prison.
Reality is a prison.
Reality is a prison.
Show your best face,
That's the only way to win.
And to escape this place,
Embrace the immortal sin.
Reality is a prison,
And you are the iron.
So, listen to this sermon,
Of how all we do is crime.
And someone tells you
It's all in your mind.
Therapist of fools.
It must be so exciting,
To be somewhere far from me.
It must be so enticing,
To finally be able to see.
You were born in
This world of truth and rules.
Alive with burned skin,
Running from the devil's tools.
You designed a place for home,
Far far away from stones,
They called you a witch,
And in turn, they got burned
And you turned out all the possibilities,
Trying to find a place warm and oh so cozy.
But he grabbed your arm and dragged you away,
Kicking and screaming. Constantly Dreaming!
Show your best face,
That's the only way to win.
And to escape this place,
Embrace the immortal sin.
Reality is a prison.
Reality is a prison.
Reality is a pr
twenty four hoursi. the sun tiptoed into the sky this morning, and the clouds laughed as they caught fire. perhaps it foreshadowed the events of the day, but as i sat there drinking thick coffee with heavy cream in an attempt to make my eyelids lighter, all i could think about was how beautiful it was.twenty four hours3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
ii. the sun was hidden behind a grey veil in the afternoon, and your seafoam eyes were careless as you said you didn't love me anymore. at least, i thought they were careless at first; but every time i thought about it the emotion changed, so that you pitied me, you laughed at me, you held back tears. the moment was blurred and clear at the same time, burned into my memory so that all i could see were your eyes
your seafoam eyes, your eyes, your eyes that had looked at me and crinkled, that had rolled when you thought i was crazy, that had softened when i kissed you
and all i could hear was your voice, your soft, warm, earthy voice, your voice that had said you loved me so many times, that had
for reasons unknown.hello, dear.for reasons unknown.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my name is juliette, and i am waiting for you to tell me your name is romeo so we can fall in love and do absolutley nothing more than fall in love because honestly, you are all that i think about when i sit staring at a blank page wondering if maybe i could just write something that would let you know how you constantly sit in the front seat of my mind, yelling at the driver and causing such a distraction that i have to pull over just to tell you how i feel.
so this is me shifting gears and switching on the hazard lights because i seem to be reckless enough to forget to get my drivers license when i finally turned the correct age of helpless. i'm sitting on the side of the road near the interstate that has no barriers and i constantly worry in my head that i'll slip on a rock or a banana peel or a heartbeat and roll down the grassy hill into the river that i didn't know existed until i crashed in and hit my skull against the boulder but i could hear the current peddling a
what is meant by playing deadthe house looks like helium. it is faded with cold as its body, thickets of slatted wood painted palely. shutters are closed eyelids, unbearable lightness to the miserly scene before them.what is meant by playing dead5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
these streets are cobbled and winter-bleached, colours in hibernation save for three bodies of varying paleness lying slatternly in its centre.
bones compounded, salted twigs in white shades bent and broken; there is no blood, just an overwhelming taste of death.
who's that? a bloodless face murmurs from its position on the axis of the recumbent spine.
think his name's johnny, a nearby body whispers.
it's not, the broken limbs in question croaks.
the wind calls for a hush. feet shuffle in stumbling waves, the way they would at a wake, before the judgemental face of the open casket.
are they all dead? a crisp voice calls.
the bodies on the cold road cringe at the sharpness of the sound. a bird rustles the newspapers just fallen from the basket.
a black boot taps a girl's shattere
how it goesthis is how it goes; you meet a boy and you think he's cute and you hope that maybe someday you will kiss the nape of his neck. the ache grows inside of you like a tumour, you feel it pulsing every single day and there is a piece inside of you that hopes he likes you back.how it goes4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
then you start to doubt it, you start to think you're ugly and your chubby and your clothes aren't pretty, but then you realize if you want him to like you, you have to like you as well. so you start to like yourself more, you're happier and you think he likes you back, which makes everything so much better.
one day he walks you to the bus and you wonder how time managed to put you here, and you see his lips moving but all you hear is the sound of your heart hammering. you agree to go on a date with him, and you try hard not to maul him when you hug him goodbye. you sit on the bus smiling and miss your stop, but it's alright, because it's a breathtaking day.
things are beautiful for a long time, trees look like they
love poem from a pillar of saltthe words 'i love you'love poem from a pillar of salt1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
have always tasted like forbidden fruit
an apple offered by a helpful serpent-
sweet and fleeting but
the words 'i loved you'
just taste of
i always thought that leaving you would be like leaving gomorrah
that i couldn't help looking back
and when i did i'd feel an ocean dry itself beneath my skin
but this is so much quieter
and so much worse.
my knuckles taste of blood,
there is no new testament here
just old testament fire
just lot's wife standing on a forgotten hill
rocksalt freezing her outstretched hands
watching her hometown burn below her.
there is no forgiveness here
just mutual loneliness
just a lost religion and a broken girl
far too tired to play pretend
watching you fall apart behind me.
some kind of dreamerher feet were always tired, you know.some kind of dreamer4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
she was a wanderer. a traveller. built out of cliches with a smile so pretty it could melt your heart. and she followed the stars, you know. if they were covered up by the clouds she followed her dreams, and if she hadn't slept in ohso long then she'd follow her feet.
sleep always came second with that girl.
those shadows under her eyes were big enough to hide all her secrets in; and yet people always said they saw some kind of dream in her eyes - like the whole world was nestling snug in those sea-green beauties.
her laugh tinkled like bells, you know.
she knew all the best jokes from all the best places, and her mouth was full of stories. and whenever she came to a town, she was sure to give as many stories as she got; sharing her worn out old tales never got old for her.
and she always left folks with twice as many stories as they had to begin with.
she was beautiful, you know. she was powerful like the ocean. elusive and mysterious, with the sc
letter he'll never sendDo you remember when we first met? It was my millionth foster home - your first. And you were so scared, and your eyes were puffy and your skin was like paper and you clung for dear life to the blonde social worker with the pretty smile. And then she left; I remember thinking you looked like you were drowning.letter he'll never send4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
You know, I was so glad we ended up being roommates. All I ever really wanted to do was take care of you. I wanted to know you, I wanted to understand you, I wanted to be the person you needed so badly in your life. And I can't believe we were both only nine; when I think about it, it seems like we must have been so much older.
But you were always old for your age.
And I remember how no one but me ever heard your voice. You talked in glares and growls, and sometimes you sounded so feral I could swear they'd just taken you out of the jungle. And you'd talk to me, and smile and laugh, and it killed me because I could always see how amazing you were. But no one else could.
ti wrote you a lettert2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and i slept for twenty hours
then i realised
that i loved you in a language
you couldn't understand
and if she loves you
with her body, and
that is what you understand
then i hope
you can be happy
and i hope one morning
you wake up and realise
that you aren't
thanatophilia.i just can't get enough of death.thanatophilia.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
here's the thing: i was six when my dad died. he was in an accident involving a cement mixer and the neighbour's dog sparky. you imagine the rest.
all i remember is my mom crying until her nose was as red as her fingernails, and thinking how fat and soggy her face looked from that ocean of salt running down her cheeks. all i remember is my mom doing a shit job at blocking my eyes from the pictures of my dad at the scene of the accident. all i remember is how much blood there was, plastered all over the blades of the truck and matting down sparky's fur. all i remember is how bright my eyes felt, seeing all that red. seeing all that death.
all i remember is wanting more of it.
here's the thing: i'm not a murderer. i'm not a self-mutilator, i'm not a junkie. i just have a fetish. some folks like latex, i like death. i've never had a problem with
Almost Icarusi. There were days when I could hold my breathAlmost Icarus1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
my fear would tiptoe back
into the empty spaces between my fingers
and where my wisdom teeth used to be.
ii. I broke my ankles trying to dance with you
and that should have been a warning
but the x-ray machine said I could still fly
so I grew wings and hobbled back
home to you.
iii. It makes sense that Mercury
was the god of poetry and thievery and boundaries,
because words were always more beautiful
when they were captured and kept
in between ink and paper,
and the heartbeats they spun
were not so palpable an ache.
iv. I was always told flight
wasn't an option unless you ran headfirst
but they never told me
that to taste the sky
I had to stop licking my un-wounds,
the parts of me I thought were missing --
empty spaces that never meant
I wasn't w
dysfunctionalfather isdysfunctional4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a startled sparrow,
paranoid personality disorder
[father lives on lists,
father strives for consistency
with what has been written
serpentine and setting standards too high to reach]
a neurochemical molotov cocktail
the day he'll explode.
every single mistake he makes,
father wants to make sure
so she won't end up like him.
father lectures poetic
on sadness and suicide
rebellion and self-pity
as if they are the scum of the earth
as if he is the scum of the earth.