Imaginary FriendI once had a friend.
That was made of pretend,
Who's only friend was me.
We played all alone,
Just all on our own.
Down on the hills,
And the trees.
We ran through the woods,
Jumped in the hills,
And played in the dark,
Because we lived for the thrills.
We went on our journeys,
And time would stand still.
The world would change,
Because it bowed to our will.
Then came the days
My friend started to fade.
We no longer spoke,
We just sat in the shade.
And as we sat silent
We looked at the sky .
My friend left for the last time,
Without a goodbye.
I guess the fact is.
They were no longer shy.
I once had a friend,
I thought was made of pretend.
Who supposedly no one could see.
So I sit and I wait,
Pretending their late.
Alone with no guarantee.
Hoping and saying ,
All They See Is ScarsI want to tell a story,All They See Is Scars2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but this story isn't a fairy tale
and it wont have a happy ending,
because the real ones, well
they never really do.
In high school
I picked up my pen
and I began to write
It existed and it was pure
and it was lovely.
But my rapist rewrote me.
breathing on my neck
and tracing my back with his fingers.
He rewrote me as broken.
He wrote me as a statistic,
as another white girl who got told
that she cried rape for attention.
But that didn't matter because see,
I wanted to tell a story.
A story about family,
about picking each other up
about blood being thicker than water
about how not everyone's home
had to be broken.
But my father rewrote me.
When i picked up my pen
he spoke words to me
that I swear bruised my whole body
and I learned that nothing
was thicker than his alcohol
and my home was already shattered.
But I wanted to tell a story.
so I picked up my pen
to write about god.
A God that could save anybody
And God loved everybody,
which was the onl
Gutter GirlGutter girl washed her dress,Gutter Girl2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In dirty water to look her best.
Combed her hair back with a comb,
Made from blue birds ribcage bone.
Bought a nice dress from a witch,
With human hair in every stich.
and also gave her glass kept shoes,
That shattered if were ever used.
Gutter girl went to the ball.
A party hosted at the mall.
Wanted to dance, to learn and sing.
Find what romance and love could bring.
But she was stopped
Right at the door
For she was too weird,
And too poor.
She was tossed out to the street,
Her shoes then shattered beneath her feet.
The dress began to fall apart
Each peace ripped raw, straight from her heart
The sky struck midnight.
And she went back,
Underneath and into black.
Gently shielded by the rain,
She goes back down into her drain.
Picks the glass out of her feet ,
Hangs her dress up in defeat.
Kindly thanked her grandma witch,
And bales the rain out of her ditch.
Gutter girl took the day.
To gently wash the pain away...
MarionetteThe strings dig deep into her veins.Marionette3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
She moves with them,
To dull the pain.
A painted face,
With a printed smile,
Her emotions left unversitile.
She dances alone, secluded,
Forlorn and deluded.
And only for her twisted master.
A mental crafter,
A vile bastard.
but this is a show.
the people can see it
the people they know,
this is no secret.
their eyes glazed over
like shes no longer there
ignoring her existence,
she finds comfort in despair.
welcome to the show.
on stage, a girl
who you might as well know.
Only I can see the tears,
And only I know all her fears.
I flick my fingers to the right,
On my command she stands up right.
I flick my finger to the left.
She'd murder all the ones she left.
she dances with a smile.
that does not reach the eyes,
it looks so sick and vile
a soul that believes its lies.
Maybe its love,
i've heard it's supposed to ache.
Or maybe she's insane,
because even the strong can break.
I don't know the reasons,
Or why she's bound and cha
Sky FallIt’s always when it’s raining...Sky Fall3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
She calls me on the phone.
Her voice worried and hysterical,
Compelling me to get home.
The sky is falling…
That everything’s coming down.
She can feel the whole world crying,
And she’s afraid she going to drown.
Hiding under an umbrella.
Isolated on her bed.
Maybe to keep the rain out,
Or the rumors that have spread.
Trying to ignore them,
Like the voices in her head.
She shuts her eyes to scream,
But silent raindrops fall
That one day,
The clouds might go away.
it leaves me stifled and choked,
When even on the sunny days,
it makes no sense,
that she's always soaked.
In the night.
She wakes to rain,
Hiding under an umbrella in fright.
Like the downfall causes her pain.
She tries to be brave,
Peeking up at the skies.
But she cant help herself,
So she just hides and cries.
and she says
I know i'm lost,
and I've almost lost it all.
RevengeRevengeRevenge12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You think that we've forgotten,
But forgotten I have not,
I hold your soul within my fist,
Forever it will rot.
I thought I use to love you,
But I guess that I was wrong.
I know now that I hate you,
And your torture will be long.
How will I start? I would not know,
What I will do I fear,
It's hard to make a human being
Suffer when they once were dear.
I tighten my grip,
You scream in pain,
I look at my hand,
I don't see the stain.
Life means nothing anymore.
The circle turns.
Time goes on,
You are lost forever.
I know you're lost,
And down I kneel,
You cannot know the pain I feel.
I am sorry,
I must be strong.
Revenge was mine,
You were wrong.
BeautyBeauty rose out of that silent sea,Beauty3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Her eyes were tepid with wild thunder,
And then she turned and looked at me.
Me; a meagre man who knew no lady fair,
Nor one of care as she snaps my heart asunder.
Beauty flew up to that sinister sky,
Her lips were dark with mad desire,
And then she turned and started to cry.
Cry; a crude curse who knew no mortal smile,
Nor one so vile as she scars my aura in fire.
Beauty stood up on that scarlet skin,
Her locks were rouge with quiet rain,
And then she turned and walked on sin.
Sin; a sordid spirit who knew no lover true,
Nor one in clue as she saves me from my pain.
The Monster That Is MeThis face is a mask for you to seeThe Monster That Is Me10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Hidden beneath is the true side of me
The monster you cannot see
The monster that is me
Dark thoughts from a darker mind
And no one can see, they're all blind
I bear no love for the likes of me
No compassion and that's how it should be
Pictures swirling in my twisted head
Dark secrets of people long since dead
A rushing tide of rage and there would be no end
no end to the beginning my friend
Don't ask, words are never real
Disgust is the only thing I feel
feel for myself and the monster that is me
The monster you cannot see
Beneath layers of blood and bone
Lies a creature with a heart of stone
Ever straining it's chains to break free
Ever luring, the monster that is me
This face is a mask for you to see
Hidden beneath is the true side of me
The monster you cannot see
The monster that is me
A Letter to No OneThe clock ticked against silence,A Letter to No One3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Upon the cemetery of a room.
Deep sighs weave through the air,
Meager warmth in compressed despair.
Moths fall prey to a musty lampshade,
An opened window to Night’s gloom.
Thoughts dance like ripples on water,
And clouds on the hiding moon.
A lullaby plays from the gentle sound,
Made by scratching pen on paper.
One story told too many times,
Is voiced from words created.
Though this time revived from lies,
A phoenix forms the ugly truth.
The pen rolls from the wooden desk,
Having served its final use.
Old dusty dolls and teddy bears,
Watched helplessly through glassy eyes.
No star showed to twinkle hope,
Not one ray from the busy moon.
On the clock’s tick, a rope was hanging.
On the clock’s tock, a form was thrashing.
A tired, hoarse throat gasps for life,
Cut abruptly by the Reaper’s scythe.
Poems on the shelf with an unknown author.
Paintings on the wall left unsigned.
Just another heart trapped in horror,
An unfinished l
Mind.Darkness surrounds me,Mind.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Shadows surround you.
The present threatens me,
as the past did to you.
Your memories, you keep at bay,
but your thoughts just seem to fade away.
Your murdurous thirst is always there
and you seem to be grabbing at your hair.
My thoughts aren't right
my head's too tight,
I have to fight
just not take flight.
I want it to end
I want it to end
Please will somebody help me then?
It's not to late
Never to late
say it'll be alright
but we know it's not alright.
Because of your past,
you will certainly fade last.
You will not find a friend in this world.
We are not one
but one and the same.
Our minds have turned against us.
The door of hellthe door is openedThe door of hell3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I see the claws of the monster
he approaches the bed
his red eyes shine in the dark
this was not a legend
this story for frighten children was real
the monster is before me
I cry, I afraid
he catches my legs
I slip under the bed
the door of darkness opens slowly
Imaginary FriendWhy won't you look intoImaginary Friend11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Am I even here?
What did I do to anger
Why are you scared?
Are you ignoring me or
have you just forgotten
about who I am?
Can you even see me
I'm falling down.
far-ther and farther in
the hole of your dispair.
who needs someone.
You're not alone!
I'm standing right here!
Why won't you look at me?
Why can't you hear me?
Was I ever really here?
Look what you've done to
What you've made me!
Now I don't even know if I
I'd chase away all your
fears if you'd let me.
But now you can't hear me,
and now you don't see me.
Am i just your imaginary friend?
So What Do I Do?If only I could read your mindSo What Do I Do?3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If only I could interpret you emotions
Understand what you're going through
See through your eyes
Hear through your ears
Feel through your heart
If only I knew how to help you
But I can't
And I don't
And it's killing me
So what do I do?
I am afraid of myselfthe loneliness is a bleeding woundI am afraid of myself3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
mutilated my body
tortured my mind
with dark ideas has become a habit
I am afraid of myself
I do not like reality
I hide in my nightmares
order to escape from life
Always DefeatedI just run; faster than the wind. I can't stay. I won't.Always Defeated3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
All of this hurts
To remain standing, when all I am, is torn down.
Can you hear my screams?
Or just the silence
As I take a step into the unknown, will you hold my hand? Will you ever believe in me?
I keep trying but, all those words spoken, make me want to cry; to give up and to let go of all I know.
And you know the pain never stops. It's like a never ending empty void, which is sucking me in and I wonder when this will be done.
Will I be the one who won?
Or will I be the loser everyone knows me to be?
one step forward, two steps aheadSoftly, slowly.one step forward, two steps ahead3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The grains tumble on down.
Except for a whisper,
they don't dare make a sound.
Step by step
We move away from the past.
like steady drops of sand,
Being viewed from stained glass.
Softly and slow
Drop by drop
forced to step and never stop.
We slowly fade away
Like sand in a broken hour glass.
Always on different paths,
We may only brush by.
Never to touch,
Until the day we die.
Because You Tried In the First PlaceFailure is still cause for celebration.Because You Tried In the First Place4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Autumnal InsomniaIt's an Autumn night. The cold comes cuttingAutumnal Insomnia3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Across the seas and the Isle is in winter's for-pang.
I am still at my desk in sweats and fevers, pacing
Over long due essays and the morning's march.
The space on the wall is screaming at me
From where the picture hanged upon the arch
Above the study door. My phone has not rang
In days. In no way could you call me free.
Is it late or early or both? I cannot see
Past the window's blank abyss and I delve
Into another long since read book and look to find
The clock is already far past twelve.
The creaking grows with roaring zephyrs
Of night-breath, the gate creaks in torment
And the dark and twisted line of the tree
Seems horrifying to me.
I close the curtain and shut the door
And pick my book up from off of the floor.
I look and see the clock is now past three
And it matter not in the least to me
And I pray to the Man of Galilee.
Lead-lined eyes and a slurring soul
And the hours awake take their toll
And I fall asleep.
They Call It Stormy MondayWhat a perfect place for a puddleThey Call It Stormy Monday3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
On this dark and stormy night.
This town, new to me, is boastful....
Far too forward about being backward.
No streetlights is all this means tonight.
I hydroplane across from the graveyard;
Find a ditch, grave-deep.
My newest neighbors brought rain covers,
Their fresh tents look crisp and welcoming.
I feel that their cover is wasted while
I have a wet walk from here.
Selfish in this place where self ceases to exist,
I am chilled in my sobriety.
Legacy passed on in name
Through the ages,
Left behind today in tears,
Washed away tonight by rain.
Vie NoirYou were the promise of regret,Vie Noir3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
destiny wrapped in an egg shell,
something that temperance would not allow.
And you looked at me with cloudy eyes,
sipping your excuses while choking on tomorrow.
(We were the privileged few that God chose to endure the hopeless)
And you cursed my name while confessing every lie.
My borders grew as you clawed for the limits of absolution.
(We were the privileged few whose skin was hard to pierce)
And you loaded that gun with false bravado and ill intent.
The world was watching as you aimed it at the future.
(We were the privileged few who never forget to empty the chamber)
And you stared into the nothing, hoping to find me there
Lessons LearnedShe is in the pictures,Lessons Learned3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Smiling her toothless grin.
What I wouldn't give
Not to care again.
It was a beautiful and innocent time;
She'd never believe
That there are poems
That don't need to rhyme.
I have so many things to tell her--
That Pooh Bear headbands
Aren't cool forever
(No matter how much cuter they are than Hello Kitty)
And she won't love Kim Possible when she's older,
And that hearts
Even if they're made of gold.
I wanna tell her --
Again and again --
Even if she's heard it a thousand times,
Even if it's a million,
That she should never hurry growing up:
Cause when she eventually does..
She'll keep wishing to go back
To that point of ignorance--
Of not knowing.
I wonder what she'll tell me in return
Guessing her words,
She'll tell me to pray
Every night to the angels
Because they're always listening.
She'll preach at me
For falling in love
With the one who was so obviously
The first candidate to break my heart
Didn't I know better
Than to give my h
The Child's LegendThe battle raged around the boy,The Child's Legend6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Def to the rage, blind to the pain,
His sword no more a toy;
Nothing to lose, nothing to gain.
Orphaned when he was born,
Life unwanted, life abandoned,
Family gone, heart long torn,
Anger, rage that none can fathom.
Death looming so close by,
The boy fights to save the day,
Oily dark clouds cover the sky,
Men lost to the violent fray.
Rain pelts flesh and armor,
Wet blood stains the boys clothes,
Up from the chains looks the martyr,
Mud coats the deadly foes.
Boy sees the hero from the past,
Martyr looks to see the child,
Dark warrior closes fast,
Boys attacks raging, swings wild.
Martyr shouts at bravery,
Child reclaims confidence,
Warrior calls in cavalry,
Warriors death unknown since.
Child draws close to hero,
Boy falls endlessly,
Spear through chest.
Martyr weeps, child lost,
Sorrow to sadness to rage,
Heros tears fall to the new frost,
Strength enough, broken chains.
Hero, martyr no more,
Takes up falle
The voice from beyond the gravethy voice is sad and melancholicThe voice from beyond the grave3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she resounds in my head
a year already, that you're dead
a year that I'm alone
I have an strange feeling
I believe I see thy face in the mirror
i sense a presence near me
I'm crazy to hope or naive to believe
that I can communicate with thee
Which Is About How Lionel Arointhee Became EvilIt's actually a very simple story.Which Is About How Lionel Arointhee Became Evil3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Once upon a time, there was a very big family that lived in a very small house. The house was so tiny and the family so large that there was barely enough room inside the home for the dust bunnies, much less the people who lived there. To move from one end of the house to the next was a mere distance of one hundred feet, but these hundred feet were treacherous as No Man's Land on a battlefield, littered with landmines and fallen soldiers.
Only this was a house, so instead of landmines, they had dried Play-Doh and toy cars, and instead of fallen soldiers, they had screaming children. So in one way, it wasn't as terrible as a war zone.
But in another way, it was so much worse.
Lionel Arointhee was the youngest of the aforementioned screaming children, so he had the great fortune of growing up in hand-me-down clothes, getting the smallest servings at dinner, and taking beatings from his older siblings, all of whom were girls.
It is almost too easy to ima
The Currency of WarAt first light's gleam the bugle's cryThe Currency of War7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
rallies us 'neath a leaden sky;
marching on with steady stride,
holding ourselves to battered pride
We raise our tattered banner high
and run to field where we will die.
The cannons speak with fearsome roar;
frail bodies fall to rise no more.
White smoke blooms from the musket fire -
our guns and theirs across this mire.
The cold mud waits to claim us all;
we do not falter, standing tall.
And at the battle's end it's clear:
we paid the price so deeply dear.
A soldier's life, though rough and poor -
The fearful currency of war.