hey emmai know a girl made of mercury;hey emma3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
silvery-white and iridescent,
she is her own liquid constellation.
she knows a broken love
but it does not mean she's broken.
it does not mean she's broken.
she is quicksilver against palms, blink
and she is already through your fingers,
but she makes me vermillion,
she is not broken.
i know a girl who thinks herself as ruined,
but i've seen her gentle hands forge and
her brilliant mind create.
there is nothing ruined about a girl
with a heart too big for her body.
after all, only the beautiful
think they are ruined.
she calls herself a caged bird
but songs should be sung for someone greater.
( if i knew how to love,
EmbraceSometimes we need to stopEmbrace2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
analyzing the past,
to figure out precisely
how we feel,
with our mind and what we want
in our hearts,
we have to go with
Because when everything you have
you will be left with nothing
and for once, just once
we just stop
and smell the roses,
things will be different
You will be left
with your faith
and that's all you need to embrace.
Strangersfree-fallingStrangers4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
i pass signs
that show me
but my own
and i can't
that i'm the
please answer meI'm trying to keep you alive.please answer me5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
CasablancatonightCasablanca5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
i'm going to ask
the piano man
to play it again
with a drink
in my right hand
so that i may
Soul Burn: Rain (Conversations with Characters) Thick, grey clouds in the sky acted like a blanket. They smothered the sun, except for the occasional tears of lightning. You could feel the earth shake, as if it were grumbling at having to endure such a tongue-lashing. Amanda watched the storm from under the shelter of her tent, her bare, pink toes sticking out in the rain. It was an unusually cold and harsh autumn.Soul Burn: Rain (Conversations with Characters)1 year ago in Settings More Like This
"What is it about storms that has you so transfixed?"
She turned her head, her gaze on the ground, to find another pair of feet sinking into the frost crisped grass and mud.
"You're looking at that sky as if it holds some secret the rest of us can't see."
Amanda slid herself towards the center of her tent, and Garrett bent down to join her. She watched the way he folded in on himself like paper along the creases. He looked at her steadily with his mismatched eyes.
"I would take the time to explain it to you," she smiled. "How it's a childhood thing; ask you not to judge me for it. But you alr
goneyou are missing from me.gone1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
your being, like the ever-
present sun, is gone,
leaving my vitals to
you leave me gaspingyou leave me gasping out words,you leave me gasping2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
trying my hardest to think of something
meaningful to say.
when i do utter-stutter out something
with a grimace masquerading as a smile,
you mock the weary-worn words i borrowed.
and i spurn myself for my addiction to
singing pretty words that are
ever falling flat.
and i find myself addicted to the
easy way you stroke my worries,
kissing my raw nerves asleep.
i find that all the failing words i
try to say are right there, staring
me down lovingly, as you touch my
forehead to yours.
Breath The reflection of two hollow eyes stares at me, like an accusation, so I lower my gaze.Breath2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
With my line of sight directed downward, I can see my hands clamped onto the edge of the sink. My fingers have gone white from the pressure. I am hesitant of looking back up. In the green tinge of the mirror my chest is heaving. I am a fish out of water; I am getting air, but it seems that I am incapable of breathing it in. My shirt hangs low. Between my collar bones is a slight indentation the width of my thumb. My pulse throbs there, a combination of panic and the irregular beating in my chest. My chin quivers under my open mouth, my down-turned lips, crumbling in my effort not to cry. My face is pale, a bluish-white that darkens like bruises under my eyes. They are tired, tear filled. But I look into them; I do not like what I see.