The quiet onesThe Quiet Ones
It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for:
the ones who sit in class, doodling in their notebooks.
Alone they're harmless and keep to themselves.
But don't be fooled, their brains are a flurry of activity.
Put two or more of them together, and you'll wonder what the heck happened.
These "quiet ones" start talking, start plotting.
They've planned each other's brutal deaths....multiple times.
They've discussed the zombie apocalypse....and how they'd start it.
The end of the world has four backup plans....to ensure its demise.
And you can almost guarantee your death has been penciled in for next Tuesday.
So be careful, 'cause it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for.
Without You.And as the blood runs off of this blade,Without You.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And drips out onto this far out glade.
I really wish I'd told you no,
I really wish I had told you "don't go".
And as the tears ran from your eye,
I wish I could've made them dry.
But right now I wish more than anything,
That you were mine, because I am nothing.
I am.... Stereotyped.I am.... a nerd.I am.... Stereotyped.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I wear glasses,
I play in the band,
I get good grades,
Like video games,
I'm weak and spineless
But so much smarter than people
I am.... an outcast.
I dress funny,
I act weird,
There's something wrong
Inside my head.
I'm too dumb
To understand people
I am.... an art freak.
I doodle over everything,
Dress a little different,
I am always colorful
And pretty happy,
I see the world
Differently than people
I am.... a gay guy.
I talk like a girl,
I just adore the color pink,
Oh, and I'm going to Hell.
I have no morals,
And instead I have AIDS
And should be kept from people
I am.... emo.
I dress in black,
Have sidesweep bangs,
And cut myself
Because life sucks.
I hate my life and
My parents and people
I am.... a prep.
I am mean and neast
I love drama
I am perfect and
Way better than people
I am.... a jock.
I play sports
Like wrestling or football.
I have no brain,
Dying to be BeautifulDying to be beautifulDying to be Beautiful2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
How far does it go
How deep can it get
How dark can it pull
When nothing holds you together
But layers of makeup on sunken cheeks
And your bones so frail they
Shatter from sobbing
Your heart so weak
You cannot risk loving
Your world so painful,
Through gray misty eyes
From the outline of ribs
To the protruding bone spines
I clearly see, you’re dying
Yes, dying to be beautiful
I wish somebody would tell you
The secret of beauty
It comes from the heart
The inside out
Not the outside in
But still how far will you go
How deep will you get
How dark will you go
Until you realize
Just to beautiful
Back ThenLooking back,Back Then2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
everything was so simple,
not a care in the world
Those years were nice
Maybe even the best so far
But with age comes
a burden: knowledge.
To know life
is to truly know despair
So during the
worst of times,
I choose to forget
and be pure once more
FrostbittenWinter is her favorite time of the year.Frostbitten2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It's beautiful. Silver and blue dance around with one another in a waltz of freezing passion as snow and ice douse the land in a blanket of boreal glamour. Glass windowpanes become easels for falling snowflakes, frost etching into the smooth surfaces in intricate and unique patterns.
Winter has always been her favorite time of the year, and it always will be.
It is not because of Christmas--no, even though she loves the holiday, it is not what sparks her strong fondness for the star-colored blanketing across the land. Her infatuation with the snow and ice and everything cold has to do with something that most people don't truly believe in.
A boy whom she met long ago.
She still remembers the day like it was yesterday. Running around in the forest, laughing and tasting the snowflakes as they fell down into her parted lips and melting immediately on her tongue. All bundled up as a precaution, even though the winter has always been kind to h
Portrait Of Black JesusPortrait of Black JesusPortrait Of Black Jesus8 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
i asked a painter the other day
“paint me a portrait of black jesus”
and he looked at me
like he really did see the holy ghost
and he asked me to repeat my request.
“paint me a portrait of black jesus,”
“don’t you know that is blasphemous?”
“no, i do not know. i believe in him as you do--”
“jesus wasn’t and isn’t black,”
“have you met him?”
he seemed confused at my question,
“what did you ask me?”
“have you met him?”
“well of course i have,”
“and what does he look like?”
“he looks like--”
“no, what does HE look like?”
“i don’t understand…”
“did he come to you as a man or concept?”
“concept i suppose but that doesn’t--”
“yes it does.”
“get out of my shop.”
“may the lord bless you.”
If tomorrow I don't Wake upI wonder what would happenIf tomorrow I don't Wake up2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If I was never to wake up
Would people even care
I wonder if a commotion would erupt
Would anyone even notice
That I wasn't alive
Would my mother even mourn me
Or could she guess that I wouldn't survive
Well I'm still not dead
But I can barely call this living
I feel like a corpse
That hasn't given up on breathing
But I wonder what would happen
If I was actually to die
Would anyone be bothered
Or care enough to cry
Maybe everyone's just used to
Me living like a corpse
So no one would be bothered
Or life change the slightest off of course
But if I would never wake up
There's no way to know what happens the next day
Won't know if people really care about me
But..maybe it's better off that way
Unwanted FutureMy stomach flips,Unwanted Future2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
my breathing gets deep,
I'm sorry love but
please just let me sleep?
It's hard to live
taking day by day
when it seems to pass too fast
and you struggle on the way
What future awaits me?
A small dog, swing on the deck,
the picket white fence and
a fake family in depth.
A kiss on the cheek and
lunch in paper bags,
a promise to behave
but love, the days just drag.
Will it be the same routine
that I face right now?
A fake smile and laugh
that struggle to be found.
The passion fades
with the will to explore,
and you grow older along with
the slamming of doors.
Your voice screams,
your heart will echo,
the mirror will shatter,
and the blood will flow.
And one day you'll look
and take a deep breath,
you'll stare into your eyes
and see nothing but death.
Try againScream in my face andTry again3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Try to strip away my courage.
You should know that
That old trick is too worn out.
My walls won't break.
They were built for you.
You should know that
You can't hurt me agian.
Where Angels PlayWhere Angels Play:Where Angels Play3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A lonely spark appears before me tonight
amongst the struggles deep inside of me...
Should I give in, will I breathe in?
How much more can I be forced to take
before my soul breaks?
Shards crashing into me
letting me know I am alive
I am barely breathing...
The moon lights my pathway
deep in dark, where we will fade
I've walked past the archway
Where angels will play...
The warmest touch, upon my skin
Wings that glow with sacred light, from deep within
They have come to take me back, to where I've been
Gone away into the winds, my voice forever lingering
Do I alone escape this and find my peace
without concern for what is left behind
Even if I could close my eyes in endless rest
The thought of you keeps me breathing...
The angel that leads me, deep in dark, where I seem to fade;
The lonely spark that keeps me, is the warmth of your heart...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 30th September 2012
Dark was the lightIn the dark you can cry,Dark was the light2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
no one has to know why.
You can sit and lament,
ponder where your strength went.
Here you can let it all go
and no one else has to know.
It may be a time all your own
where you may feel so alone
but it's a time that you need
to just let your heart bleed.
To release tears and sighs
and begin your goodbyes.
Yes, in the dark you can cry,
without refrain to deny,
for once you let the pain go,
in the dark you will glow.
PrideIt is not a disease.Pride2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It is not a choice.
It certainly isn't in just black and white,
No, there are many colours in a rainbow.
It is not just you.
It is not just me.
It certainly isn't abnormal,
No, there are many people like us.
It is not only painful.
It is not for attention.
It certainly isn't a game,
No, this is serious.
It's what you make it out to be.
Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
GhostGhostGhost10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
i hold my own wrist,
as if it's broken,
'cause there are no hands,
available left to hold it.
to rest in the base
of your touch cannot happen.
it's much too tough to ask.
so i sit staring
into a blank field,
body in reverie,
mind in ennui,
sick of you and i.
i love you
but hate i fell too
deep into the pool,
of what I thought was true.
5 feet, 5 inches,
around my 5'7'' frame,
now left a shell.
my arms hold me,
as i clutch my abdomen,
and rest against the floor.
i lie there,
knowing the pain
will finally stop
that it's just beginning.
because the hardest
part about this,
is loving a ghost
that isn't dead in body,
but in your mind,
and you can't kill her,
no matter how much
you wanna take the gun
and pull the trigger.
so i let pellucid phantoms
perplex the crevices
of my intricate labyrinth.
and i let the apparition
fly around inside,
before it fades and dissipates,
just like the b
Open Heart SurgeryI've got ink throbbing through fissured veins,Open Heart Surgery2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
poisoning every atom of my soul.
"Bite your tongue," they say.
How I'd love to chew the damn thing off
and suck down every filthy syllable
just like the rotten bone marrow it is.
They'd all watch as my body spontaneously combusts
and becomes nothing but convoluted karma.
And so I wrote,
Teach me the ways of ripping out a human heart,
and stitching it onto ink-stained parchment."
The answer that came was rasped from a cauterized throat:
"Read your future in the collapsed palm of the stars;
find the abandoned pulse of your lionhearted muse;
steal their conformed scalpel and make it your own."
.i dream of drowning in.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
lakes, belly up, a petal
shaped bruise of your thumb
on either wrist
i dream that what lays
in my bed is so much
more terrifying than what
lurks underneath it
HeartI left my heart's door open,Heart3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But no one walked in.
I laughed but no one laughed with me.
All that's left is a symphony.
It's coming from the back of my heart.
I'm waiting for someone to hear it.
Will you listen?
i.i heard you howlingi.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
at two a.m. in the bathroom,
the rain drowning out
i heard you tearing at
the hollow of your throat.
you'd think that no one else would be
as sly as you to know
you aren't really what you say,
you're not okay--
you're not okay.
you named her anne after
the mother that never raised you.
called her your baby,
but never once did she
press her tongue against her teeth.
i saw the song lyrics
scrawled on the back of your hand
when you were sound asleep,
fist in stomach.
she's got bruises on her neck
that match up with yours.
she's got fingers like your daddy;
about that one i'm sure.
i read the words that hung
on the top of your lips.
i read the in betweens
the unders and overs
and the everything i could.
you took her in the
bathroom with you last night,
and i don't remember if
it was howling that i heard,
or illicit-sounding screaming.
she's not what you want her to be.
and i read in the papers
yesterday or the day before
about a girl
LiarsOh she's cute!Liars2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But she's fat.
Well what about him?
He has acne
Jezz, maybe her?
Do you see that? She has a bulge.
In that case, what about him?
That's... a guy? He looks like a chick!
Well, what are you into then?
Blonde, curves, huge tits, smart.
And in men?
Wait, what? Ew! Don't be crazy.
I'll pray for you.
I Am AddictionI’m past it,I Am Addiction2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Don’t need it,
Don’t want it,
But what am I without it?
It’s still part of me,
Tattooed for all to see;
Little lines of pain,
Worming into my brain.
My only friend,
Will be my sweet end.
I need definition,
What makes me myself?
I want to be put on a shelf;
Just define me by my actions,
My scars, my abstractions.
Show me who I am,
Who you want me to be,
My old comfort,
My old joy,
Red itching scratch,
And the sentiment I attach,
Dragging me down
And making me fly;
Making me laugh
And making me cry.
Is it addiction?
Is it compulsion?
Is it wrong?
I know it’s not right,
But if I ended it tonight,
Would it really matter?
I’ll never be past it,
Always need it,
Always want it,
Because what am I without it?
Being Okay Is The Hardest Thing We DoBeing Okay Is The Hardest Thing We DoBeing Okay Is The Hardest Thing We Do11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
because being okay is expected,
if we’re not okay, that’s not okay,
what can we do to be okay?
we can scribble illegible words
on a canvas made for by painters
masquerading as notebook paper,
and hope that we can sell the burn
of stinging emotions for some paper.
but the funny thing about that thought?
is that american money isn’t paper,
it’s 75% cotton and 25% linen fibers.
so even the money you'd earn from your misery,
isn't anything you can write on
when you realize your money isn't
made to heal. even if it does talk.
but it never really ever says enough, does it?
But that's okay...
being okay is the hardest thing we do
because sticks and stones do break bones,
but you can hide the scars
with a jacket or longer sweatshirt.
or put on pants as opposed to athletic shorts.
words kill, words heal, and words are so much more.
and you can't hide the scars that riddle your face,
the way your
Angel TearsImagine a raindrop is an angel's tearAngel Tears2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Falling from heaven on Gaia's mortal fear
Weeping in unity their children's lost soul
Heaven's pure spirit evil now doth control
Eden of rapture consumed by time's flow
A lost utopia where gluttony doth grow.
Alluring serpent's lair humans covet the bait
Devourer of truth so poisoned with hate
Innocence now lost in maelstrom of desire
Purity long blackened by greed's hungry fire
The spirit debased evil darkens the heart
The nefarious abductor tears the soul apart
The moment approaches the farmer shall reap
Love now eternal for faithful lost sheep
Gnashing of teeth those left in despair
Time now elapsed for repentance and prayer
Renounce the darkness and take gentle heed
Embrace the truth be the Lamb's seed
I'm SorryI'm sorry for being meI'm Sorry2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I'm sorry for having to grieve
I'm sorry I'm not perfect
I'm sorry I don't know everything
I'm sorry I can't live up to your standards
I'm sorry I'm not always strong
I'm sorry for being an introvert
I'm sorry for being different than you
I'm sorry I'm not what you expect
I'm sorry I'm me.
A letter to past loves.Dear Boy number 1,A letter to past loves.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you turned my world upside down,
changed green into red and smiles to tears.
Who would've thought that
your teasing and your games would
plant a fear into my bones, so strong that
I still cannot shake it?
Dear Boy number 2,
I don't think about you anymore
but I don't think about you any less either.
Your love consumed me and
pushed me to the edge of insanity.
We were fire one second, ice the next,
battle wounds were inflicted just to get a taste of blood.
We were right in all the wrong ways, but to you,
holding another was second nature.
Dear Boy number 3,
you only ever touched me
in the dark alleys of town,
out of sight, but you were never
out of my mind.
Your kisses were new and sloppy,
and your hands left bruises
on my chilled skin.
My friends said you were bad for me, but
I fell in love with your eyes of coal.
Dear Boy number 4,
you are just great. And that's the thing.
You are everything I could wish for, but
I want someone to
Don't Give me a Reason to Sell My SoulDon't give me a reason to sell my soul, she should have said.Don't Give me a Reason to Sell My Soul4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Instead, she just stared at the man on the screen in front of her, the man with his long, drooping skin, tired eyes, haggard face and balding head. He was hardly the admiral we had once known. She said "I don't have any desire to do it," and then quickly, "but I'll follow my orders, if you give them to me."
There was fright in her eyes. She gripped the edges of the captain's chair and bit her cheek, fighting off inevitable tears. But not here. She couldn't cry now. People relied on her to be strong. What people she wasn’t sure, but someone, somewhere, surely. She had to believe that.
"Those are your orders," the man said, sinking heavily into his chair. "I trust you'll carry them out."
She snapped off communications with ill-hid despair. Her blonde hair, thin and almost colorless, hung around her face like a fallen halo, fading with every sin. Her lips were tight, her cheeks drawn, and her eyes stared out of bru