The Girl Who Fled From BeautyShe watched beauty from afar,
it appeared as something alien to her,
she felt no envy of it,
it was too distant from her,
that it became only an abstract concept.
Moths fluttered in her head
in soft soundless whispers,
she watched the world fade
with a child-like sense of wonder,
she knew not of fear
for it is only a delusion.
Yet she lived in a world of illusion,
she liked to pluck the stars
out of the sky and they became her eyes,
until in time they burned out,
she never understood that she was
supposed to feel pain.
She hid behind glass walls
for others could only see
reflections of what they already believe,
and she was distorted in their eyes.
It was impossible to brush against her
without losing something,
she was a thief of souls and visions,
she liked to collect tokens and trinkets,
of lives so she could examine them
out of context and make patchwork quilts
and recreations that she absorbed
into her pores.
She spoke only in tongues
not out of divinity
Sainthood would terrify he
I Am That GirlI'm the girl who writes poemsI Am That Girl2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Because it helps me get my feelings out.
It's the only way I know how.
I'm the girl who will love anyone
No matter who they are.
I'm the girl, who can be annoying at times,
But I love life and everything in it.
I'm the girl who will always make
Room in her heart for someone,
Because I love just about everyone.
I'm the girl, who will flirt with you,
But never admit to you how I really feel.
I'm the girl who will truly love you.
No one will ever love you as much as I do.
ApparitionLittle girl,Apparition2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You have out-grown
Yourself, and these
Childish notions of
Monsters in the closet.
She holds her breath
Until the sun rises,
Because no one taught her
How to sleep
With her eyes closed.
There is this
Delusion about you;
A belief that if
You stay awake,
There will be no darkness.
It is damaging you.
Cold and silent,
With her darkened fantasies,
And remembers a time
When she was not-so-
Into unrecognizable shards.
You have found your only
From all the lifetimes
Too fearful to live.
Too lost in your waking dreams
To see new realities.
It will all
Be over soon.
AloneI sit alone and mark the time -Alone2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
aware of how the hours crawl -
with solitude a friend of mine.
I find my thoughts a careless scrawl,
meandering among the days -
myself the loser in it all.
I view my world through lonely haze,
aware of loss on which I stand
and never think to mend my ways.
There's not a soul to lend a hand;
there's not a man to call me friend.
Never AfterWhen they buried you,Never After3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It was face-down,
Arms over your head.
I want to make-believe
I'm just hiding
Under the covers.
I'll make them all
You and I
Stood on the roof
With mason jars,
Telling the heavens how sorry we were.
We have to make the angels
I have fifty-four jars
Of dirty rainwater.
Complaints of monsters
In the closet.
Each time I shut the door,
You stared into the mirror.
I can still see them.
I walked you to the dock
And helped you
Find sea glass and
To fill your pockets.
We tied and anchor to your feet.
I'll send you a post card
When I get to where I'm going.
The angels must have
Been so sad
Because it rained
Insomnia and Body PartsThere wereInsomnia and Body Parts2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Timeless moments spent between us,
In those instants and hours before dawn;
That time when we traversed
So far away from this
Wretched house and into
The most delicious darkness
That time before our tidal waves
Came crashing down on us again.
I would do anything to
Drown with you.
The softness of the flesh
Between your knuckles, the
Exquisite map of
On your palms;
They were like a lullaby
To my sleepy fingertips.
The breath of your mouth
To teach me to close my eyes
And fall asleep.
Your contented whispers and
Observations of the sky
Showed me then how to dream.
I had no idea what home could be like
Until those seconds and infinities.
As you traveled the expanse
With the curiosity of your hands and
The rebuke of your lips,
Because you always liked
To fix things
That were broken.
Comatose RendevousThe narrow spacesComatose Rendevous2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Between typewritten letters
Are just large enough
To lay in.
You and I
Are crafters of flesh and bone;
Made of weathered canvas
And stitched together with
Sweet dreams on lonely nights.
Blood falls from your lips,
Staining those folded
You make so well;
I like to catch them
When they fall,
And toss them back into the air.
Crimson-colored pieces of you
Splattered about the walls
And the inside
Of my mouth.
(You taste of melancholy,
And masked, uneasy lullabies.)
I would happily
Bear the red smears
Of your steady fingertips
If you run out of
Allow me to
Spread my ashes
Over your ribs and
In the hollow of your throat;
You would look beautiful
Covered in faerie-tales
Made of soot.
I will sing to you as we write
A few more,
Beds of coal,
Disguised in silks,
Promise dirty wordsmiths breath
In the wake of
And restless eves.
I can see myself
Left UnsungHe has a pretty tune in his heartLeft Unsung3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
With the lyrics plastered
On strips of delicate, ashen paper
That crumble at the slightest touch.
They hang against the
Edges of his lips,
Trying to pour out,
But ever uncertain
Of whether the wind will carry their weight.
Bone BlossomsBone Blossoms2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a ghost of iris-
blue so pale,
it slips off the page
You know the scent;
you borrowed it
from some girl
who was your best friend.
You slept together in the same bed;
she borrowed your sweater
and kissed you
when mother was not looking.
You fed her books
left out in the sun,
ripe as the boy
She put her hand
one warm night
and asked you
what it made you think of.
you said -
teal and purple,
feathered like summer -
like the summer
when you were five
and the heat
just could not keep away
and the sky went out.
Angel of DeathI taste gunmetalAngel of Death2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on your lips, you are
beyond my reach, death lingers
behind your far away eyes,
bullets fall from the sky.
We made love
on an unmarked grave,
our flesh carved the stone
the look in your eyes an elegy
how beautiful the Angel of Death is.
PerfectionPerfection.Perfection3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
She lodges her fingers down her throat.
Clasping onto the wall as she recklessly chokes.
She reinserts her fingers back in forcibly.
Deliriously trying to make her body thinner.
She swoons and slumps to the floor nauseously
As she attempts to regurgitate her dinner.
Her throat aches as she screeches out coarsely,
With her hand covering the image in the mirror.
Her head now rests on the on the rim of the toilet seat.
She wants to eat but she just has not got in her.
She desperately begins to scream out inaudibly.
Her mouth now tastes of something pulpy and bitter.
She examines the red color of the fluid cautiously.
Realizing that she has become too focused on her figure.
Her friend then knocks on the door thoughtfully.
She shouts out, "I'm okay I don't need a baby sitter."
Her friend continues to knock and waits outside awkwardly
Replying, "You promised me, you said that you are not a quitter"
The tap begins to run as she disguises her cough distortedly.
She knows her friend
I am what you made me to be.You know what this is.I am what you made me to be.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(I never knew
No matter how hard,
typical of reptilian whores,
and you were dirty,
much the same,
alive in kaleidoscope
(Intercourse at every
Only in the seconds I
(We are but
FeverI like pretending I mean something to the ghostsFever3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
who wreak havoc on my bones-
impaling these masochistic butterfly wings
on railroad spikes
between heartbeats and bedsheets,
I got a heart in New Orleans,
palms engraving names like
Juliet, Alexandria, & Christine
on the seats of greyhound buses.
& I'm offering up 102 degrees of skin to a godless moon
as I breathe in her night scent.
pretty little poet fingersfabricated gods rest between thepretty little poet fingers2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
languid crevices of
her fingertips, scribbling profanities
all over her skin.
she's just mismatched bones
& blue bruises, telling of forbidden
love through archaic letters.
a tongue made for
wanderlust, & eyes made
for the stars,
even the devil fears her.
TormentTorment2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm all by my self
Don't need anyone else
I have my moments
In lying in my torments
All I ask is "Everyone
Please fill my empty pockets"
And as my hand reaches in
It's as empty as my eye sockets
They stare on through
And I don't know why I do this
I spread myself like glue
Tormenting myself, and others
So much happiness
I deny with a smile
Because I know I'll fall
Because I don't believe you at all
All I ask is "Everyone
Please fill my empty pockets"
But as my hand reaches in
It's as empty as my eye sockets
So much words to define
So much meaning to rhyme
And I don't ask for even a dime
But still no one will give me the time
But my walls block my view
And I wonder, when's my soul due?
She=artI draw herShe=art2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I sing her
I write her
She's the perfect piece of art
And she's mine
No one like her
Not even close
Not a human creature
Silky voice, radiating smile
Deep and innocent eyes
Pure heart, soul without sin
Gorgeous body, incredible skin
She is a drawing
She is a song
She is a poem
She is an art that comes from my soul
The way of saying words I love you
The way explaining how I feel
This is the way, the way I show you
And all you need, is giving in…
Ink GravesLetterless words and pageless books-Ink Graves3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and ink blots on the flowers;
Ghosts scratch their heads and tap their pens,
all across the hours.
Winds can howl and cease to be,
by one twitch of my pen;
I spoke of writing a poem tonight,
and by dawn I've written ten.
Emily sits aside nobody,
the Raven, above, waits;
Frost dances in a yellow wood,
among the long lost dates.
A tall, well spoken willow,
looms over the grave;
Protecting every dated word,
and every thought they gave.
I crumple another masterpiece,
with thoughts I'd thought to save;
and as it strikes the baset bottom,
it rests in its ink grave.
Death by Conversation The ground is truly beautiful today. The dirt is a lovely, rich brown color. It's not quite muddy but a little damp and sprinkled in fine powder. There are some musty, rotting leaves, littered across the ground like no one cares for them. No one probably does. They are limp like corpses. You can't forget about those pretty little ants though. They track with heavy crumbs on their backs, spinning circles. Beautiful isn't it? So I might as well just keep staring at that loathsome ground and hope he doesn't come over to talk to me. But, of course I'm not that lucky am I? Oh no. Of course he's coming to talk to me. These ants are really fascinating today. Really interesting. More interesting that his face, which I refuse to look at as I have done since I met him.Death by Conversation3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Hi? What a great start. Really, I can't come up with any
fly.this is hard for the world around us to grasp:fly.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
these wildfires raging in our retinas
& the sins we wear like demonic similes
on our tongues- they are not enough.
& i am so fucking sorry of saying i'm sorry.
but, tell me,
what is a young poet(ess) to do
with veins made of kite strings?
Willfully LostIn these whispering moments,Willfully Lost3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I take your heart in mine
and hold it fast.
You make me forget
things like flower names
and cloud shapes,
where I came from
or why I'm going,
as my thoughts are filled with..
Every crack in the sidewalk
carries your name,
and the grass rustles soft your wishes
to tangle your fingers in my hair.
My breathing drops
like the autumn wind,
would that I could,
I would throw myself into it,
will myself towards your southwestern
your dusty mesas abutting
my mountains green.
No wander about it, just lust.You were a mid-morning train wreck,No wander about it, just lust.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the embodiment of poetry.
& my clavicles whispered too many nothings
about your summer storm hands,
folding like paper cranes
to make wishes upon themselves.
wishes are for the weak-
do something about this quaking heart
& freezing fingers.
I think I found God then,
To Fly in FireSinking deeper in a sea of nothing,To Fly in Fire2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
With night’s darkness as my dawn.
Questions requiring no answers,
And satisfaction found in the wrong.
Tears shed not like the inkwell,
Far overused by this rotting quill.
Is this the seed of strength and vigor,
Or closing distance with my rancor?
I hear the still damp match ignited,
Rekindling my flame of envy.
The drowned piece of wood below,
Was kept remembered after all.
So the wind I soared these wings with,
Were nothing but mere, fake glimpses.
What unkindly surrenders to the glutton,
That keeps me earth-bound along with it.
Flashes of fears of weakly faltering,
Dread my dreams with eyes unclosed.
But this tattered soul knows too well,
The day’s yet to exist when I can let go.
SlaughterhouseLots of people in the herd,Slaughterhouse2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
fed daily by illusions.
Rotten, sick, intoxicated, unaware.
They compensate dreaming,
justifying a false care.
by voluntary victims.
The massacre takes place now.
Objects without owner
marching in fast rhythm,
to be marked just like cows.
Pisces"…so drown me. I mean, if you can."Pisces2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
A threat in her eyes. Triple dog dare.
And I'm on edge but I don't wanna show her just yet.
"Now you can't honestly expect me to be foolish enough?
Drowning fish is a fruitless endeavor."
She smiles, all fury and triumph. Her ocher eyes ignite; flickering then flaming.
"O' but sister, are you not a fish, same as I?
Are we not of the same blood, the same scales?"
And I hesitate, ever-cautious.
What's she hinting at? Huh, sis'?
What's that card sewn up your sleeve?
I hesitate for just a moment too long.
"And you would believe it impossible, no?
A difficult enterprise to say the least?"
She carves words out of atmosphere,
pronounces every syllable with refined practice.
An artisan's articulation.
I find myself shivering; hyperaware and feverish.
I am not of you, I am of nothing.
Blood is water, blood is air.
And I'm too silent and shaky and she knows,
Stephanie -Collab(I wrote us in free verse over every inchStephanie -Collab3 years 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,
you lost yourself within the dark tangles
of my labyrinth roo