queen of nothing.what I've learned:queen of nothing.3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I still remember singing in my room when I was six, and having my mother come down the hall and slam the door so hard that the windows shook.
Her nails hurt when she scraped the tears off my face. "It doesn't matter what you want," she'd always tell me.
Like, when that drunk driver swerved and hit her car I didn't want her to leave me, and it didn't matter.
Once on vacation I bought a pair of fuzzy leather heels for two hundred dollars, and when I wore them to dinner, I found out that
1. "Suede" is a fancy word for "fuzzy leather."
And 2. Good things don't last: That night my cousin told me that she thought 135 pounds was a little too big for five foot eight. So I tore my tights up to the thigh and threw those new suede heels in the garbage.
It felt good later, to know that they couldn't hate me more than I hate myself.
My six-word story from ninth grade reads, "If I don't laugh, I'll cry."
When I read that treating people like trash to gets them to nee
The Death Within LifeRaging SeasThe Death Within Life4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
That is what life is.
No fairy godmothers
or knights in shining armor.
Only witches and cauldrons
recipes for disaster.
There are no three wishes
or steeds that fly.
No hero, no powers,
certainly no rewinds.
Life is but time
Spent by little moments
we call ours.
It is never enough,
they're left to remain.
Not even our mind, our knowledge
can prolong our hours.
To live them as they come
seconds remembered, never forgotten.
To let them pass
by our envy and our pride.
No wonder we are fools
both then and now.
Not one of us
Making us relish,
bathe in the honor
There was never a vow
of an easy way out.
Forever there will be work
never will it be clean.
Evil, never in absence
but nor will light and hope.
Perhaps all we can do
is to fight, to fall.
To live and die
AbuseGoodnight, he had said, I love you, he had said.Abuse5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Hate you hate you hate you, let me out of here, let me out! I'm so scared, please, just go away, I-
Love you too. He nodded and left-
My room, I can hear him walking a few paces away and stopping so he can see-
Me alone, changing into my pajamas and going to-
Hell, because I was a bad girl, he said I was a bad girl and I didn't deserve-
Sleep. I always sleep-
Horribly. I know he's still there, waiting for the right time, so I curl into a ball-
With an old stuffed bear because-
Mom likes to see me with it, even though the bear gives me nightmares, because-
He gave it to me. I fall-
Onto the floor. He's kicking me hard, and it hurts, it hurts, it feels like he will never leave so I can fall-
Asleep quickly and have-
Nightmares of his spawn inside of me, kicking my insides like he kicks my outsides, destroying my-
Writers"Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me"Writers3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
How many times have we heard that?
What a fool that person was indeed for creating such a lie as that
Sticks and stones do break bones and words cut much deeper than a knife
Words go where no weapon can ever dream of reaching, our very soul
Words move us, inspire us, bring us down, create hate, create love.
Words can destroy just as easily as they build
Bring life as easily as it could death
Give hope and in the same second despair
Words can change the world for good or evil.
It is the job of writers to wield these weapons with care and maturity
We speak loudest with just a whisper
And quietest with just a shout
We create and nourish worlds for those who still believe in good
We open eyes and minds and hearts to the world around them
We become a beacon, and sometimes that beacon goes out
We forget what it is we do for this world and forget that we must tend to our gardens
We forget we're human and make mistakes
My AmbitionsMy Ambitions.My Ambitions3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
People tell me I have talent.
And my attempts at poetry are noble and valiant.
I want my words to leave a mark on this earth.
I write for myself, to give me some sort of worth.
I still think anyone is capable doing I what I do.
Paint the same or an even better image of the one I just drew.
I've been accepted by a few, but rejected by many.
This life is perpetual and the strain is getting heavy.
I write for you, as well as for me.
I write from my heart, to set my mind free.
A man who writes poetry isn't the epitome of masculinity.
I had to disregard the stereotype and over come the humility.
My writing is all I have and it's the one thing I can control.
That's why its not just words your reading, it's a piece of my soul.
I want to be liked and to appeal to everyone.
But I've learnt this ambition can never be truly done.
I write for my family, so they can be proud of their first creation.
Although I don't show it, they will always have my love and appreciation.
I'm hoping a
Dead WrongDear Boy with the Broken Eyes.Dead Wrong4 years ago in Letters More Like This
Just because they have always said it, things have always been difficult. And they are right. Life has always been difficult. Things will never happen the way you want them to happen. Broken hearts are so much easier to find than mended ones. And dreams? Well, if the world ran on dreams, we'd be building a whole new universe already, just to escape our own jaded one.
When I met you, you had already seen the worst of this world. They told you that you were not allowed to love because you couldn't do it the right way. They informed you that you weren't a poet, just a vagabond with tragic fingers on a broken instrument. They explained to you that you couldn't rise above anything because you just weren't special. And that every step of the way, they would be breaking you down, just to watch you fall.
Of course, they didn't mention that when you speak, your voice holds a lost song within it. And when you sleep, your guitar is an inch away from yo
Dear GodDear God,Dear God4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Let me just start out by saying that
I know I don't believe in you
- I don't think I ever did.
I know church was just an obligation to me,
Filled with psalms and flickering candles.
I know I've "sinned",
And I'm sorry
- that's what you say
When you're in confession,
Right? I'm sorry?
(more than I've told the truth),
I've committed blasphemy
Godhow I've used your name in vain).
You could even say that
I'm not happy with what I have
(is this body really something to be proud of?).
But worst of all those sins,
I've committed murder.
I've killed the person
You used to know.
That innocent little girl
Who used to balance your book
In her tiny hands
And caress its weight to her chest;
Those papyrus-thin words
Rustling as they impacted
Her still developing morals.
The little girl
Who created ripples in
Your bowl of holy water
- watching as they rebounded
And slowly stilled into
Love LetterYou are re-creating the word love for meLove Letter3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I have never felt anything in my heart so deep
I'm so in love that I'll never be the same
I just want to be with you every single day
You have touched my heart in many different ways
And now from my heart you'll never go away
I feel so warm every time you're here,
I feel so cold whenever you disappear
Though it feels like you are already mine
Who knows if that's real, who know if it's a lie?
I just think about you every single time
Every time I write, and when I close my eyes
But I'm just waiting for that special day
For when you finally say, yes
AlrightBroken...Alright4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
That's her, alright.
magic doesn't die.I've lived where the ghosts sleep.magic doesn't die.5 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The streetlights are broken but they still stand,
arching over empty alleys filled only with dead cats.
Stardust is littered over the river,
drifting on the black water almost like moon beams.
You asked if I knew where I was going.
I told you, this was my home.
Once, I ate the lies of children, the dreams of dying leaves
and the stones that words have become
along with the ghosts of the town.
This torchlight might let us see the dirt on the ground,
but it will never detect their movements.
I know them.
They are quiet, almost silent.
They will never speak but they can scream.
They will scream you all the way into Sunday,
right past Wednesday and Friday,
the days they'd lost their bodies.
And watch your step.
If that board creaks, stories underneath it will haunt you.
Those stories are not fantasies. They are not pretty.
Between the cracks of moon light, I know their eyes are on us.
I know their feet are following our shadows.
I've made my bed where the
Within the heart of darkness.Tear tracks carve delicate patternsWithin the heart of darkness.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Into to hollows' of my cheeks
Your beautiful face forever etched
Into the gallery of my memories
Choked cries mingle in the air
Twirling like a broken symphony
My eyes filled with fresh sorrow shine
Like the moon on a clear winter's eve
Sobs wrack my body uncontrollably
Moving it in a jerky puppet's dance
My hands desperately rake at the ground
Tearing at the Earth to try to bring you back
My heart splinters into a thousand tiny pieces
An exquisite jigsaw only you can complete
The fibres of my very being unknit
And unravel into a tangled web of colour and anguish
My soul yearns and searches for you:
A homing pigeon in the raging, rolling storms of my emotions
I lay on the floor defeated and wounded
A broken soldier bereft of a cause to fight for
Yet, in that night of madness and insanity
In which my world was turned on its head,
And my light and life had nestled so close
Then was snatched so cruelly away
The sun rose and brought with it new hope.
done, broken heartBroken headdone, broken heart4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
day I feel
like I'm about
to fall apart
I will shatter
if I'm not
one tiny slip
Everything is gone
I don't know how
Broken at the sound
of hate in
and broken sounds
my broken fears
my broken heart
it's aching, breaking
with each crack it's wailing, saying
finally, oh finally
HumanHuman!Human4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
What are the humans?
What is their purpose?
Why do they exist?
Nothing good comes from them!
Thy cause only pain and suffering.
Destroying the world!
They mock everything.
Never taking any responsibility for their actions!
Misunderstanding of everything!
Never wanting to know the truth!
Always thinking for themselves!
A pitiful way of living!
They despise one another.
They kill one another.
Trust is replaced with anger.
Love is replaced with brutality!
They live a life of a parasite!
Filling the earth with poison!
Their hearts are melting due to the anger in them.
Their brain is full of aggression towards differences.
They destroy with cruel words.
Nothing is able to stop them.
They are menace.
They don't want to understand!
They kill what they can't comprehend.
No hope shines over them!
Darkness has swallowed their existence.
Killing them is the only way.
Way of salvation!
The human is the cruelest being on the Earth!
It doesn't c
Characters playing people.We are all characters in one another's books.Characters playing people.2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
We write them in and out as we see it…and they appear to survive beyond our plot-point. How sure are we really, that anyone else exists?…our own existence is the only sure thing, and even that seems unreal. What if we are all dreaming, and we are all just characters from someone else's imagination? What if when they wake up, we die.
What if we wake up, and it all dies?
© Rocio Belinda Mendez 2013
Leave me aloneLeave me alone3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Retreating to the isolation inside my room
curling up in a blanket of misery
Memories replay and corrupt my peaceful slumber
"You're not good enough."
"You disgust me."
"Nobody cares about you."
Tears stream down my mask
The negative thoughts have made the positive evanesce
I just want to be left
bookworm“there is no such thingbookworm2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
as reading too much.”
this is what I tell you
when you insist
that there is some danger of
becoming lost in the stuff—
mistaking seriphs for serpents,
swallowing a story so whole
that its hook
sticks in my throat.
“there is no such thing
as reading too much”
I tell you, bold-faced,
surrounded by snakes
with a line through my lip.
Winter's GirlI was winter's girl,Winter's Girl1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
frozen under a thick layer of ice.
People tried to break it with their ice picks, but to no avail.
They eventually left me cold and in pieces in my frozen abyss.
You're thawing me out, slowly but surely.
"Summer girls aren't for me, "you say.
"Too full of sick strawberry sweetness."
That was just said to comfort me, but it oddly worked.
Maybe time with you will make me a summer girl,
no more need for thawing,skating with you above my ice.
StarsI reached for the stars,Stars2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Longing for the strength and brilliance they held.
But my hand came back with shards of glass, streaked with blood.
Jagged pieces dug into my palm, broken fragments of a dream.
For stars are not meant to claimed or owned,
But acknowledged and gazed at from a distance.
Their world is not the same as yours,
And they do not wish to be confined and limited,
By your personal desires.
Life's LessonLife's Lesson.Life's Lesson3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The hardest thing in this life
Is to live in it.
Would YouIf I were to take all my love,Would You4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And paint it into a beautiful work of art,
Would you love me back?
If I were to take all my love,
And put it into a beautiful poem of hope,
Would you call me yours?
If I were to take all my love,
And spin it into a beautiful cloak of strength,
Would you forever hold me in your arms?
If I were to take all my love,
And tell you,
"I love you"
Would you say you love me back?
Or will all my paintings,
All of my poetry,
All of my giving,
All of my hope,
All of my love,
Would you let it all be gone in the wind?
Would you let it all be part of the past?
Or would you love me back?
Would you call me yours?
Would you forever hold me in your arms?
Would you say,
"I love you, too"
Equinox LoversWe come into being twice a yearEquinox Lovers4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a balance of shadow and fire,
a half-lit moon face
pale blue and reflecting a still sun.
Sunflower faces follow me
westward, an ember
dying in the flame of thunderclouds.
Resonant and careful I am,
my molecules built on changing shapes.
You say to me,
"You're too young to be so shy,"
so I stand up and take your hand.
I am a glacier quivering atop cliffs
overlooking the North Atlantic,
but you exhale and
set me to smoking
blowing candle flames free
like dandelion seeds.
We've learned to keep our breath
cool and slow,
draw it out steady to catch the wish
with a last puff.
We are a pair of Arctic winds
howling down Norwegian coasts,
flopping like fish into open hands
a pair of freshwater salmon:
cook me gentle, peel back my scales
and pull away my pink flesh
with a fork.
I've sought loves like evergreens,
whole forests of pine sap
at the midpoint of summer and winter,
at the crash of seasons
like waves on cliffs.
You are my old woman