firm gripYour fingers strum
the chords of my brain
a hand cupped chin
to raise me from beneath
I’d know this insulation anywhere
it feels like putting on a comfortable shirt
arms fill the sleeves
as fabric moves over skin exquisitely
for the perfect fit
I lie every time I nod my head in silence
It was anchors I needed
and fish hooks
I know the art of drowning
suspension and bleeding
The captain goes down with his ship,
but not before he sails
Now is not the time
for bravery and fear
we passed those
Twisting in my skin,
pulling tight on the ropes
into the squall
moves through and between
nothing to grasp
and press on
into the next
We’re raising the sails
and dropping them down
with corset flattery
over roller coaster wind
and a hand cupped chin
RivalryHis name is Jack. I know that usually, I don't disclose much to you. But Jack is someone I need to tell you about. I have known Jack my whole life. He's been a best friend to me when the concept of best friends was nothing but some candy, and who led the gang in the playground. Commitment was a pair of bicycles thrown on the lawn and a race to the spiced lemonade his mother made so well. When we were young, we knew we were going to conquer the world. The battle was always, who would conquer it first?Rivalry4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Jack's father was an alcoholic. I will never forget that rainy afternoon when I opened the door to find him standing there, rain soaked tears streaming down his face and a red, harsh welt across his cheek. We stood there for what seemed like hours. We didn't speak at all that day. And after that, he was a different person. You see, Jack never had any siblings. I was his last remnant of childhood, his rival playground leader and yes, maybe even his best friend.
It was just his mother and hi
InscribeOnce I knew this boyInscribe3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
who stopped knowing what to say,
so he took all of his problems
and left them on a page.
So I'd read between the lines
of different quotes every day.
Sometimes lyrics, or sometimes
Vonnegut, Neruda or Hemingway.
"So it goes" he'd quote,
and I never knew what to say
Instead I read the words he fed me
until they'd eaten me away.
He took all of his troubles
and stacked them on a shelf,
Too high for me too reach,
too far for me to help.
Now I'm reminded of him when
I hear a book or movie quote,
or when I see the delicate
lines and marks of music notes.
So I took all of his words
and kept them in my head.
All the work he'd written
and mostly everything he'd said.
I put him down on paper,
as he did with me,
And painted him on canvas
for everyone to see.
So to all, I show that I recall
his fading, far off face,
That only with paper we can
keep a person in one place.
SongbirdHe hooks his arm into the loop of mine.Songbird4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
This is mine, he proclaims proudly.
You can't just own people, I tell him.
Their hearts flutter and batter themselves
against the cage of their ribs,
breaking themselves before they escape.
You can't own a heart that belongs to its soul,
just as how you can't own a bird
that belongs to the sky.
And the bird cannot keep the song
it still sings even when caged.
His eyes are downcast.
I know, I tell him. I tried.
But if you are quite still,
you can hear it sing from afar.
Sunrise GallowsCrimsonSunrise Gallows4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
It's heard through the forest
It's heard everyday.
Another has fallen
Another is saved.
Keep your eyes open
Don't look away.
They want you to see this
They want to see pain.
Is another's gain.
Silver and Ashes"you should be more carefulSilver and Ashes3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You know what they say
About books and covers."
Why do we sing nursery rhymes?
To warn the children of our crimes
The wicked plague
And heaps of clay
Molded into sunny days
Smoldering the tunes we play
Quick Falls lead the steps to loss
The words that cost us everything
Stories are immortal child
Stories make our dreams go wild
Dying doesn't go out of style
It's as sure as I build fires
Inside of the lines we smile
Stick around and stay awhile
In fact I intend to make you
Read these lines
that will take you
Shamelessly away from here
Just as I did come, my dear.
"I'm not just some character in your book and you are not my god blame him, he wrote me that way."
i am growing wings but there is nowhere to goi am so done -i am growing wings but there is nowhere to go3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
because i can feel it:
there is a fear within me,
encapsulated in my blood cells,
the fear dreams;
it breathes like a living thing.
so done with -
nightmares of text messages
and unapologetic letters
and you, walking away from me,
nightmares of the words
done with this -
because i am a nomad
(who has never left her home).
i know there are feathers growing
in the hollow of my bones.
but i am growing roots here, attaching
to this place, to this house
to the color of the sunlight as i hold your hand,
this feeling -
that i have not even started yet.
This AfternoonFall in love with me a little. And we'll spend the rest of our years in this afternoon.This Afternoon5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
My eyes will meet yours and look away. My hand will run through your hair and stop. My fingers will find yours and pull away, and then find yours again. We'll drink coffee and sit on stairs that end too quickly. The sunlight will highlight your profile a little too well. My skin will look a little too luminous.
I'm not a poet, my darling. Poets are decievers through refrain. Instead, I'll read you speeches from Shakespeare and enthrall you with my ancient eyes.
I'm not a poet, my sweet. Poets betray themselves in lyrical verse. Instead, I'll tell you stories and make you wonder with a voice that will make you drowsy in the winter sun.
You're not a poet either. Poets sing too soon with no music. Instead, you ebb your emotions through your musician's fingers on methodical frets.
You're not a poet either. Poets layer emotions through hollow words. Instead, you amaze me with your wine rich voice and eye
PleasePlease,Please6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I love you,
but its best for you to..
I want you to hold me close,
but just break me...
Rip my hair from its roots with those beautiful hands,
Spit in my face,
Show me that you understand I am
UnwrittenUnwrittenUnwritten3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I can never find the right way to organize my words. I watch her stroll down the congested halls of the school, surrounded by her friends. There was no way I could ever approach her, I was just too shy and afraid I would make a fool out of myself in front of so many people.
Instead of speaking to her I decided it would be better to slip an anonymous note through the slits of her locker. Locking myself into my room after school I unclipped the lightly used notebook from my binder and reached for the pen on my desk. It couldn't be that hard to write a short letter and sneak it in before she came to get her books in the morning. Staring at the blank lined paper, my pen wouldn't move to write a single letter. I was always an excellent writer, receiving perfect scores on my short story assignments in English. Never have I had this much trouble getting my words on paper. Maybe if I just think hard enough, it'll eventually form and the pen would pour out my thoughts perfectly.
* * *
Palliation"She looked hot, when she wore skirts, but the thing is, she never really knew that she looked hot... which made it so much sexier."Palliation3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He took a long drag at his cigarette and squished out the butt as the paper burned into the filter.
"So what happened?" I asked.
"Oh, she got married. I came to know about it from a friend of hers. Her friend's name was Richa, but I called her Bitcha... God, I hated her!"
He chuckled and took another swig of his beer.
"She called and told me that Swarna won't be returning, with much relish. She knew that it would leave me heartbroken. Ugh, she was such a bitch... her friend. Funny thing is, heartbroken doesn't even begin to explain it. She never even told me that she was going away to get married."
He paused and pursed his lips, as if lost in thought, gazing into the depths of the shimmering golden liquid in his hands as if trying to pour his memories into words.
"How do you describe that feeling of complete and utter hollowness? You can say
MurderHysterical insanityMurder4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
To make a heartbeat race
I smile fake and stroke the cheek
Of slaughter's pretty face
It's murder but it lacks a taste
Of fiery burning wrath
My apathetic heart feels not
The bloody aftermath
So take me hate and take me pain
Don't leave my hand at bay
Please teach me how to feel again
Steal emptiness away
My dirty lies have stained their lips
Where honesty is rare
True loneliness is felt when you've
Forgotten how to care
Why, I can see my future self
An empty body's near
If murder doesn't cure me
My soul will perish here
GriffinMy mistakes are on my head,Griffin3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the cigarettes taste like dryer sheets.
On the street curb of a suburban block,
streetlights flickered and jaundicing,
WorthlessWhat if this is all thatWorthless6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we were ever meant to be;
through the darkness with no
survival instinct left? What if
we'll always be bitter and anomalous,
and what if they forget
to ever fit us with working hearts?
Don't tell me
everyone feels like they are either
going to explode or murder
everyone they meet every single day,
that they're so alone that even they
have given up caring. Because
if it's such a key part of growing up,
why are there so many people still left breathing?
You're telling me that we don't have to
be lost causes, yet I am dancing
alone in the middle of the street, eyes closed,
and they are claiming me to
be reckless, telling me I have a
But the truth is,
I just want to know if living is worth it.
run, jump, fallif you're looking for merun, jump, fall4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you'll find me in the jellyfish sea
i'll be waiting for your sea-salt lips
to claim me and your purple-pruned fingers to
wrap themselves around me and take me far,
we'll do a running start and take a leap of
faith off the edge of the earth and
reach up to kiss the stars -
spreadeagled, handheld in the sky
and sprout wings to tickle our faces as they
beat by our sides, and
we are euphoric,
goosebumps in the grass.
(if anyone's looking for me,
tell them i'll be making love in the jellyfish sea)
Solace of the RainIt's raining,Solace of the Rain3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that kind of misty rain
that kisses your skin,
then fades away with the night.
The weather is always so fickle,
it leaves without a sound,
leaving only trails
of its petrichor behind.
Yet it leaves a screen,
of dew grass and fish-pond puddles,
filled with echoes of the sunset,
the kind that flood my mind.
So I'll wander through memories,
stumbling through, my torchlight burnt out,
'til the rain comes again,
and I surrender myself without fright.
playing godi am the last paramedic you want to respond to your call.playing god3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
by no means am i inept at my job- i am, in fact, the best in my precinct. my problem is sometimes i think i'm god.
the people who are drains on society - the welfare collectors, the addicts, the elderly, the people who wronged me in high school or remind me of the people who wronged me in high school; the people who cost me taxes? oops, i made a mistake. i'm sorry, mrs. doe, but john didn't make it. our team failed to correctly assess and promptly address his condition. our condolences.
i have let hundreds die on my watch. just seen the spasms stop, the light leave their eyes. i have saved hundreds as well. i am god and i choose who is repentant and righteous and allowed to carry one; i choose who is to be condemned to an eternity of hellfire and brimstone.
tell me- does this make me a bad person?
AsynchronousI am the patchwork pastel on drivewaysAsynchronous3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in early June, hopscotch walkways
outlined in chalk and crimson,
worlds gently [shakily] defined
by dust and sprouting minds-
you are the April showers
and those segways to summer wildflowers
catching me in your palms of quicksilver
traipsing me through raunchy streets like
a rope you made by braiding rainbows-
dyeing tar the pretty pink of my knees.
I cling to gritty decorations
in dripped limbs all over town,
where rain paints the curb
different shades of my lost pieces,
a drainage ditch claims the color of my eyes.
I am the sullied, battered reef
lit up in barnacles like holiday lights
or a string of dead fireflies.
Drowning in apologies
for my skin that cuts your hand,
begging the atmosphere
to wear me away.
You are the jealous tide-
a thief with jewels that don't quite shimmer.
Failures pinned with tacks on passerby,
grasping at my toes in efforts that
mimic a trapeze artist
new to release and the saf
Don't BreatheI won't breathe as long as your words still linger in the air.Don't Breathe4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I refuse to choke on the lies you tell.
I won't rest as long as you keep wishing my dreams sweet.
I refuse to run from a nightmare that you so cleverly bid.
I won't ever unlock my heart from its cage as long as it's you who seeks it as a prize.
I refuse to give it away as long as you're here holding your palms out.
So don't say you love me just to fill the silence in the air.
Because as long as "love" is in the air, I'll continue on, always holding my breath.
Maybe TomorrowMaybe tomorrowMaybe Tomorrow6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'll see you and we'll have
a conversation saying so much
more than just "Hi, how
have you been?"
because tomorrow is
Monday and isn't that how
these things are supposed to work?
I'll tell you that I've been
what I would really mean is that
I have missed you oh so much
and I've tossed and turned every night
for twelve nights now,
and I'm sorry, I'm
sorry for not being there.
And you would
reply that you miss me too, and
it's okay because deep
down, we haven't changed
and we're still the same people.
Your eyes would press into mine that
we're still the same people and we still need each other.
But we're growing up and we're
sailing away, and people
never say what they mean anymore.
[I don't even think you do miss me, anyway.]
reflectionsi'm not sure what's going on in my head anymore.reflections6 years ago in Emotional More Like This
i miss people who aren't even gone, and the people who left are leaving their fingerprints all over the inside of my heart.
i miss the way he looked at me when we folded up together and he ran his fingers through my hair. i don't miss him--he was no good for me or anybody else--but i miss the way he let me listen to his heart through his ribs and trace the veins from his fingertips until the sleeve of his t-shirt kept my hands from going any farther. i miss feeling his bones move under his skin with my forearms and my knees and my chest, and i even miss the revulsion and the pulling away when his lips brushed my cheek.
in this place, touch means feeling and feeling means touch. i can't begin to unravel the customs and the social norms behind the times when it's okay to let my hand linger on a shoulder or a wrist, and i can't understand why they stare when i say exactly what i think. i can't get over how beautiful everyone and everything
The Strangest ThingWhat made me get over youThe Strangest Thing6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
was finally knowing that
you loved me.
The Loungemascara band-aidsThe Lounge3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and cosmic blush
tepid hand shakes
and trysts of lust
the panther prowl
smoke rings gather
in spectral mist
elbows and twists
shoulders furled up
in the cold
no one knows
which way to go
but car crashes
are just as common,