sense of me
I've always the quite one. The weirdo you've never notice but scence I've learn how to focus. I've realize why I shut myself up. I have too big of a mouth and too much love to burn out. I've seen it all before. I guess I was that girl. So what if I just sat quietly and not speak to anyone who approached me. you'd never notice the pain behind that smile. It's burned out….burned out. Crowed my head again. All I can do is hurt over and over. I'm hurting u, myself and him. la la la la la la la. This morning I told myself I could change but all I ever do if screw it up. Maybe this time, oh wait today but I can't I have failed u again and again. I just can't shut my big mouth. Words come out like knifes that scar u and leave you with the pain of guilty lies. I'm drowning in blood. Too much emotions going through my heart. Pain, love, guilt… and lots of other things. Too much overwhelming me. I'll be the girl who cries herself to sleep at night rethinking these memories. I've always been the
ResonateI want to be more than justResonate2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a tangle of arteries and cartilage
I want to be pink sunsets,
poppy tendrils, and puzzle pieces:
things not to be lost in the folds of time
or buried to feed summer grasses;
I want to mean something
through the small things,
so even if this poem is forgotten
amongst greater works,
and even if my small deeds are lost
amid the grandiose ones,
I will still resonate;
I will resonate in the way
that I held my daughter’s hand
and braided her hair into plaits,
in the way that I spoke
gently and with a honey tongue,
in the way that I carried myself
like I had never felt grief’s weight
settle on my birdlike shoulders;
And when you cannot recall
the exact color of my eyes,
the sound of my smile,
or the look of my laugh,
I hope you will not forget me entirely,
I hope I will resonate with you.
Ode to SoulsOde to Souls1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
our society is built on the binary of proper lines.
spotless, picturesque, sanitary lives trailing cycle upon cycle of symmetry.
yet we function better without framed order.
we have wanderlust built into our core; we bleed out the seasons when it suits us.
our lives are made of tire treds feeding the clouded sunset, skies pouring violently over
ravenous hearts seeking catharsis.
the nyctophiliac, the heliophiliac.
the nemophilist, the pluviophile.
if we breathed in your blank normalcy, we'd crumble and die.
Forgotten girl.I was the forgotten girl.Forgotten girl.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I've been used and discarded, I've got nothing left.
I'm exhausted and emotional.
I'm numb from the pain, although it still stings a bit.
Then you came into my life..
You took away all the hurt
You made me happy again
Even made me feel better about my self
You protected me from what i've been hiding from my entire life.
Terror in TearsShe was clutching his dark blue hoodie with fervor, as though the only thing keeping her body from bursting open from nerves was the ardor grip she kept on his physical being. She was still horribly distraught, even after the sobs of her brother had quieted down and he came to her room to hold her in his arms, gently caressing her cheeks to rid her of her tears while neglecting his own.Terror in Tears2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She didn’t understand. All she had done was come home fifteen minutes late. Her bus had gotten a late start from the school because one of the boys had decided to chance a suspension for a day of infamy by pulling the fire alarm during the last bell. It wasn’t like she had gone to play hooky or had gotten herself hurt.
So why was her brother gripping his head so hard that his fingertips were bloody when she got home? Why was he weeping and moaning utter gibberish? Why did he insist on continuing his unsettling back and forth rocking, even when she told him what happened and showed him that s
Today, I DiedToday, I died.Today, I Died6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
They strung me up on a rainbow rope
And lit a fire beneath my feet.
Actually, I'm enjoying the warmth.
SuicideSuicide3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Wanna kill yourself? Imagine this. You come home from school one day. You've had yet another horrible day. You're just ready to give up. So you go to your room, close the door, and take out that suicide note you've written and rewritten over and over and over. You take out those razor blades, and cut for the very last time. You grab that bottle of pills and take them all. Laying down, holding the letter to your chest, you close your eyes for the very last time.
A few hours later, your little brother knocks on your door to come tell you dinners ready. You don't answer, so he walks in. All he sees is you laying on your bed, so he thinks you're asleep. He tells your mom this. Your mom goes to your room to wake you up. She notices something is odd. She grabs the paper in your hand and reads it. Sobbing, she tries to wake you up. She's screaming your name. Your brother, so confused, runs to go tell Dad that "Mommy is crying and sissy won't wake up." Your dad runs to your room. He looks at y
Scars and SoapHe has such soft skin, Ebony thought to herself.Scars and Soap2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She was sitting on a twist of metal embedded in the ground, the dingy red of its form reflecting on the crystalline surface of nearby water. Her metallic fingers twiddled in the flowers, gently caressing the pale petals that would soon decorate the entire expanse of the area.
They were modest little flowers. Fresh from the ground and eager to bathe the barren world in color. In fact, everything around the little pond Ebony and Male had decided to rest at was beginning to show signs of life. Little sprouts could be seen tentatively peaking from under scraps of metal and concrete. Green moss and vines were tenaciously climbing up the sides of the crumbling buildings. Cool, clean water was gently lapping at Ebony’s shoes. It was so serene it was almost surreal.
A small smile graced Ebony’s glossy lips. It was good that she and Male had decided to rest here. It was unusual to come across a place this untouched by the horro
I don't feel alive.I feel really numb..I don't feel alive.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I realize that I exist,
yet I don't feel alive.
I feel so lost, lost inside my own thoughts.
I don't feel like crying,
I also don't feel like smiling.
Can I just fall asleep forever?
Symphony of the DeadHe sits on the bed, bent over with his fingers interlaced on top of his head. Her words echoing down the hallway are still burning in his ears. Why does daddy like making me afraid of him? The man lowers his hands and lifts one of them to still his trembling lips. I'm scared he's going to hurt me. He blinks, trying desperately to hold the tears back. Does daddy even love me Mama? The man gives up and starts to weep uncontrollably, his back shaking with every sob. Why does he scream at me so much? He looks up and his words are barely audible. "I'm so sorry." The man can taste salty tears on his lips. Mama, I'm so scared. I want to die. He can still see her sitting there wearing a white night gown, her dead mother's dress spread on her lap. Mama I'm coming to you. "No!" He screams, reaching for something that's no longer there. I love you Mama. The girl says as she lifts the knife with quivering hands, and plunges it into her heSymphony of the Dead3 years ago in Profiles More Like This
PinholesFaltering wordsPinholes2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and blemished sight
in the night...
to tear that sky
Lesbian.I chose this life.Lesbian.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I chose to set myself up as an Outcast.
I chose to hear my best friends
Tell me that I am going to hell.
I chose to hear the words Dyke and Faggot
Spat through scornful lips in my direction.
I chose to lose the love of my Family.
To hear them say that I was sick.
That I was wrong.
I chose to place the dreams
Of marrying the person I love
In a file marked as classified
By popular demand.
I chose to have the doors of my church
Slammed in my face
Because apparently, I am the exception to
"Love your fellow man."
I chose to be chastised
For holding hands in public.
I chose to look over my shoulder
At every corner
Afraid for my life simply because
I fell in love.
I chose this life.
I chose to be a Lesbian.
The feelings I can't expressTimes like this when I can’t find the rights words.The feelings I can't express2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Times like this when I find myself crying.
As I have no way to express.
But this pencil twirling in my hand.
Sometimes I’ll make art, and proudly show it.
Sometimes I’ll make shit, and quickly destroy it.
With either I find they both seem to end in the same way.
With a simple message, strewed through long and tedious words.
That could be said much simpler, and probably has.
But still I say it, for it’s all I have.
pre-apocalyptic response/logi don't understand the sentimental value of these arrangements,pre-apocalyptic response/log1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
we are foreign even to each other,
although i try to fit into your skin
suffocatingly synthetic slimy heavy and
tadpoles blasting out of my throat,
as far apart as planets can be
and you are not the world but a world and even then
black hole of a raindrop
as we all are when/(unless) we begin; i am making sounds
ending this on a flat d-drone; you see how hard it is for me
to understand mechanics; adream in
uncircumcised unsubsidized grea
CanadaxDepressed!Reader: Close Your Eyes"It's morning," he tells you, as if it isn't obvious enough with the sunlight streaming in through the curtains, and the birds chirping so loudly they could wake the dead.CanadaxDepressed!Reader: Close Your Eyes3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
You keep your eyes closed, focusing on the dark and hoping you might fall asleep again. "I don't want to move."
"It's almost seven. You're going to be late." He stands, the bed creaking under the shift in weight, and his footsteps thud away. You hear him shuffling around for a minute before coming back to sit down on the edge of the bed. He takes your face in his hands and plants a soft kiss on your cheek. "Come on. Let's go."
You shake your head slowly. "I can't." It takes effort to push the words past your throat—it takes effort to breathe. Your chest hurts, right in the center between your ribcage, next to your heart, and your fingers are cold—so cold you can't feel them.
"What do you mean?" he asks, patiently. "Are you sick?"
How can you put it so that he'll understand? You bite your lip, your eyes
WritingI am a writerWriting2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I write what
I wish I could say
Trapping my feelings
On paper everyday
I am a writer
I write what
I see around me
My eyes; wide open
Have set me free
I am a writer
I write what
I need to do
Clear and confused
Just give me a clue
I am a writer
I write what I feel
And I feel what I write
But when I stop feeling
I stop writing
And my little world
I am a writer
Who writes to find reason
And maybe even some treason
In this world
Where insanity rules
Behind a piece of paper marked:
"Here are the fools"