ParisI want my life to be soft. I want it to be nothing but sunrises and twilight, sunflares and moonlight. I don't want to have to deal with noontimes, or 3:32 pm, or 9-o-clock in the morning. Nothing interesting ever happens at 9. It's between the horizon and the sky. It's between the croissants and the salads. It's water. It's melted butter on a sidewalk that's just begun to grow hot. It's a young female's strawberry smoothie that isn't actually a smoothie at all, just pink powdered protein and water because society told her that 200 pounds is 200 too many and she's caved.
My life is full of noontimes. Hot ones, rainy ones, briskly cold yet sunny noontimes. 12 in the afternoon is society's breaking point. It's the point where those who got up with the sun begin to lose their minds, and those who got up with the moon don't have any left. It makes it strikingly obvious that those who elect to wake at noon never, ever had a mind at all.
WaitingI want to fall asleepWaiting3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
With my head on her shoulder
Cradled in her arms
Covered with story-telling skin
And nothing else.
I want it to be real
When I'm holding her hand
Tracing my fingers over ivory and denim
And the wispy, silver- winged smoke
And I want what, so far
I cannot have
So I am forever
Waiting for her
Because she is waiting for me.
Wholeheartedly.After the yelling,Wholeheartedly.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The broken glass and
Bent dreams that were
Thrown away in the black
Glad garbage bag
Hung over the knob of the cleaning cabinet.
The floor was dirty.
Covered in sticky, spilled beer and
Half empty soda cans.
Paper plates and coffee filters and
Ashes and cigarette butts and
Littered with expectations and hopes
That spilled out of every orifice
Of the human who lost them.
Crushed by the weight of knowledge lost
When the blood came.
And when it came,
The soul escaped
Along with the hopes, dreams and
Expectations for the new beginning
That caused the end.
It shone and glittered
Casting light on the dank,
Claustrophobic nightmare that she ran to,
Because running away
Was too painful without a destination.
StarsIt isStars4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when our eyes
I see you
reflected in your eyes
you don't feel
Sacrifice Returns the SoulCrying inside,Sacrifice Returns the Soul3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Begging to know
The secrets that possess you,
The thoughts behind your eyes
The locks to the happenings
Inside your mind.
But not daring to ask,
Out of fear.
Fear that you wouldn't say,
Or worse, that
You would blame
All this heartbreak on me.
Knowing in my heart
I am to blame
For this bedraggled version
Of the person you used to be.
And those beautiful eyes,
Cocoa- colored eyes,
Stare blankly ahead
Through the cracked windshield
Which is all I can offer,
Because its all I've ever had.
I can feel it,
Slowly, surely seeping away.
The emotion, the feeling
The soul in your body,
And all I have now
Is a ghost, going by your name
The name you never preferred,
The name you now obligatorily
And this ghost
Commands her fingers
To close around
A cup of cold, bitter coffee
From the convenient store
That sells lifestyles on the side.
She tells herself
Leave the store,
Walk to the car,
Sit down on the moth-eaten,
Wind-Whipped SoulsYour empty blue green eyes,Wind-Whipped Souls4 years ago in Scraps More Like This
The locks to your mind,
Look right through me,
They're open; but for some reason, I can't find the strength to look inside.
You close your cold hands around a cup of
Bitter, convenient store coffee.
Sitting in the cloth covered, beat up passenger seat,
Staring through the cracked window, all I've ever known.
How am I supposed to help you here?
I'd wipe the blood from your paperthin skin,
But that's a solution you hate. It never comes to that,
And I wouldn't have the tools to do it anyways.
I'd pry the murder away from your mind, but it's hidden,
Locked away, for another confession.
Drive down the road, speeds reaching much faster than
The back-road speed-limit: 35.
Trees whipping past, wind in your mind, blowing your secrets
All over the window.
They're leaving you, and I finally know why
BeliefIs there reallyBelief3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
An all powerful superhero
Sitting in the sky,
Controlling your every move,
Thinking your every thought,
Providing your every breath?
Are you certain
That there's an invisible spirit
Hiding out above the atmosphere,
Shaking the ground,
Wringing out the clouds,
Lighting the sun every morning?
Can you show me
This omnipresent, heaven-dweller
Who flies among the celestial beings,
Hiding himself from his creations,
Because they should have faith in him
Or a book?
HumansSometimes I wish for the taste of metalHumans3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The graceful ringing crunch
Of a blue sheet
Being pushed and pulled out of the civilised world
Only to return to another version of the
Unstructured wild it once came from
The only remnants of its past life:
Sometimes I wish for the taste of metal
Of reflective glass splintering away
From a shiny silver page
That tells the stories of fleshy robots
Cynical and vain
Looking for aurbrushed photographs
In the simple dirty reflection of mechanical procedures.
Sometimes I wish for the taste of metal
Of small, rusted, shining shapes
Dully glinting in the brightest midday sun
Reflecting everything in the blackest night
Biting robots and drawing red
Turning even those who don't want to feel into a breathing creature
Sometimes I wish for the taste of metal
Of dull molded stell bent against
Shapely painted gold
And the uncivilised rush of everything shattered,
The truest reflection broken
In the leak of red that turns robots, in the last split s
AnswersWatching from the windowsillAnswers4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Eyes fill with tears
Staring at the blank horizon
You don't have to do this dear
Take a hand from the cold winter moon
There is still peace
Everyone is watching you
Don't forget to breathe
Stars twinkle in the sky
No shade on the passerby
They don't pay attention
No one really listens
Watching from far away
Mind begins to go blank
You don't need to feel this way
This isn't meant to separate
Watching from the windowsill
Eyes fill with tears
Staring at the blank horizon
You don't have to do this dear
hushi'm done wishinghush3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on shooting stars, and
i want to be done with you:
i'll let dust settle
on my telescope,
let dust settle in
my throat, my lungs.
twist your fingers through
my vocal cords,
press your palm to
my lips and tell me, hush
don't wish on things
falling too fast
to hear you
maybe i'll wish
they are quiet houses
for muted ghosts, though
more alive than you
have ever been.
i'll let you
pull me under,
paint my eyes
with salt, blind me
so you can murmur, shh
even dead things
can be beautiful
steel heart.i. he has a heart made of steel.steel heart.4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
ii. he meets a six foot tall, awkward and lanky boy in a quaint little coffee shop, and the wires inside his steel heart twitch. large doe eyes stare straight into his shell and he thinks his brain has begun to malfunction. he finds himself asking the name of the boy, and his steel heart begins to hum maxmaxmax.
iii. hands run softly through his hair and he's pretty sure the heat in his chest cavity isn't a good thing. he records the touch of max's fingers in his hair and stores it as a file worth a few hearty gigabytes. he begins to save everything that max does, and replays them over and over again when he's alone on the rooftop, under the lights of the stars.
iv. when max kisses the edge of his eye, he realizes that he's run out of memory space, and he feels a little despair creeping into his heart in the form of rust. but it's okay, he tells himself, as max kisses him again, as long as he's got the warmth of the boy next to him, computerized
Girl GlitchI am found wanting.Girl Glitch3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Every day a little more so, with chips
in the paint, creaks in the joints and the hair
wearing thin. Like an old rag doll, I swear
I've buttons for eyes and a smile of stitches.
They call me girl glitch.
They write stories about me, scribbled
in the margins of their pocketbooks,
about how I cried wolf - how I lied
about nothing in particular, and how
I've a heart with a hungering.
Though what for I am never quite sure.
There are too many things to think at once,
too many colours, too many sounds, pulsating
to the whir of a car crash hymn:
my last coping mechanism.
These are the dog days, when the worth
of each word is unearthed and I speak
in a litter of syllables, a clutter of vowels
desperately searching for solace, for love.
But even I can't translate the hypnogogic codes
I use to speak. Even I don't understand me.
And sometimes I wonder
if I wrote a letter to myself,
sixty seconds in the future,
would I know who it was from?
Finding the Good Girls The dress is too tight, sticking to my sweaty skin and squeezing my curves. Leanna told me that I look beautiful in blue, and no one will notice I am wearing her clothes, but I'm doubtful of that now. My heart pounds painfully when I hear the noises that mean it's meeting time, and I'm still trying to wiggle into the dress. I almost faint in a panic when Jesiah walks through the door.Finding the Good Girls3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Rechelle, what on Earth are you doing? Everyone's already gathering in the Common, we're not going to wait for you forever."
"The dress doesn't fit," I murmur, avoiding his eye as I tug the skirt down.
"That's not your dress, is it?" He steps forward, running the fabric of the skirt through his fingers. "Whose is it?"
I shake my head. "It doesn't matter now, I can't walk in there l
CalamityI keep expectationsCalamity4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in my back jean pocket
and i tuck disappointment
into the folds of my shirts
they stay with me always
while confidence makes friends
with the dust bunnies under my bed
I store empty promises
under the weight of my spine
crushed by back bone shoulder blades
turned from fragile bones to wings that will never fly
and there is always anger
hidden beneath my fingernails
flooding my lungs until I can no longer breathe
while pleasure and pride
become the lost love child
of closets and old shoe boxes
frustration sleeps in my veins
accumulating like blood clots
incompetence makes itself at home
in the spaces between bones
and happiness loses itself
in shoes that don't fit
and sweatshirts that no longer hold warmth
Need to BeReaching out just to hold your handNeed to Be3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Feeling love makes me understand
How much I need to be
Here with you
If only I could tell youAfter so many years I've found what I'm looking forIf only I could tell you3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
It's you, just you my dear, and nothing more
Because you filled me with something I've never felt before
When we first met we established more than just a rapport
You changed my world in a blink of an eye
That is something that I will never deny
You did the impossible and warmed my frozen soul
That's a reason why when I'm with you I feel whole
When you're near I never feel the need to shed a tear
Your mere touch chases away every single fear
You managed to convince me that life is worthwhile
I actually believe the sun shines brighter when you smile
I can't believe how, every corner of my mind, you invaded
You brought back my faith that so long ago faded
You see, a woman like you, is a dream come true
It all began on that day I first locked eyes with you
You have no idea what you have done for me
You made me want to be better, clear for others to see
You are a gift that was sent to this earth from above
To everyone around you, all you
Black Rainbow.Cigarette Lips.Black Rainbow.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The grey of your T-shirt.
A splash of wet green grass.
Orange co-ordinated love.
It's funny how you've played
so well with the yellow sands
of the Hourglass.
How you've got me painting
you with colours of
If they ever ask.
If they ask again-we'll
throw a volley of heartbeat blue
at questions our
love doesn't like.
We've just begun some
black love and poetry.
You cannot go away yet.
Leave that stain of nicotine
on my fingertips
before you disappear
into the dawn.
All these days.
I have been painting.
Today I write.
Kiss of Death~Kiss of Death~Kiss of Death3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Turn it off, turn it down
This muttered ruckus
that tortures my mind.
Take my soul
to a quiet place.
Take it out, take it back
This cursed breath
that scorches my chest.
Crush my heart
to wounded pieces.
Put it down, put it away
This whispered shouting
that fills in my ear.
Send my thoughts
to sweet oblivion.
Make it stop, make it rest
This endless horror
that slays my eyes.
Still my cries
to a deaf God.
Run away, run ahead
This raging storm
that follows my steps.
Cease my suffering
Oh, Kiss of Death.
DiseaseSometimes I inhale too many different emotions and they stack up inside my rib cage, tearing at my lungs and weighing me down like bricks. I want to scream to get them out but the wider I open my mouth, the further into my body they sink, determined to intertwine themselves with the fibers of my body. I want to move, flail, dance to get them out but it's like sewing them into my stomach and I'm so overcome that I can't speak or move or think and all I can do is sit and wait and feel these emotions until they sink away into my feet. They're beginning to pile up now, and some days it's hard to walk because they're so heavy, filling me past my knees and it makes me wonder, what am I going to do when they replace the nature echoing inside of me? Because emotions can't be all I have left, I'll lose my mind and my control and be forever a slave to those little airborne parasites that stitched themselves into my airways so long ago.Disease2 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
mirages.he's a beautiful boy dressed as a nightmare, and he manages to lull everyone into his eyes. tendrils of blood trail after his delicate fingers, and he says he can be taken higher than ever. he holds you as gently as possible, and his skin silently burns alongside yours. something about his kisses tastes not quite right, but when he presses his red, red lips harder against yours, you can't quite focus.mirages.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
he paints mirages of broken legs and collapsed hearts, draws suns of forgotten dreams and fearsome pulsations. because somehow, he doesn't survive, doesn't live through storms of fire, doesn't end up seeing the light of day. he scratches at the smudges on his skin and he whispers to his art, your side has become cold, and sometimes i don't want to be with you anymore.
you were a love of art that was taken too far.
Dead for YearsToday,Dead for Years4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You told me you loved me.
I think I stopped believing you a long time ago.
I told you I loved you.
I don't think you ever started.
I lied to you.
I think it was the first time you've trusted me.
You asked me to marry you.
I hesitated saying yes.
You kissed my flesh and told me you wanted a child.
I wasn't ready;
I stopped taking my pills and started fucking you more.
I gave birth to your daughter.
You say she'll have a beautiful mind.
You took her to the museum.
I've never seen you so alive.
I watched your eyes light up.
She'd whispered something into your ear.
I'll pour myself a tall glass of cyanide.
And give a toast to all that's left.
I'll be dead.
But right now in this moment,
I want you to know,
That despite what you've thought;
I've always loved you more.
Piano PlayingI am a pianistPiano Playing4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And you are my piano, dear.
I play minuets along your ribcage,
Write love songs on your arms,
And press your vertebrae like keys
To let soft chords fill the empty space.
Your hairs are the resounding strings,
Your lips are polished brass pedals
That make everything loud and soft at the same time.
Kissing you makes the whole world shift up an octave.
I am a pianist
And you are my piano, dear
So let's write a duet in the dark.