Mute TranslucenceShe is trapped in a glass box
One which follows her every move
It is always caging her in
With invisible walls so everyone can see her inside
Yet barriers so thick no one can hear her pleas
A cry of desperation rises up from her crystalline prison
A lamenting wail so loud it threatens to shatter the mirrored bulwark
"Why won't anyone listen to me?
She listens for a response
As the crowds continue to rush past her enclosure
All brushing against the invisible walls
All seeming to forget she's there
There is no acknowledgement to her despondent appeal
but s i l e n c e
PulsateWhat is a heartbeat,Pulsate2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
without the heart?
What is a dream,
without the conscience?
What is a word,
without the letters?
What is a hope,
without the faith?
What is a soul,
without the self?
What is a kiss,
without the love?
What am I,
Welcome to WonderlandFalling down, down, downWelcome to Wonderland2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Spinning 'round and 'round
All around, the ticking of clocks
Such a discordant sound
Right is left and left is right
Night is day and day is night
Up is down and down is up
Life is death and death is life
Voices whisper from every niche
Screams echo and cause a twitch
Claws and teeth threaten to kill
Eyes wild with bliss of such a thrill
Run, hide, fight, or plead
Nothing shall work, nothing you need
The sun and moon will laugh as you cry
As the Queen shrieks her commands to the sky
Blood forms penumbras as heads roll
A cry of defiance with each bell toll
The jury turns in accord, madness shining bright
Their question full of words to make your skin crawl with fright
"ArE yOu AlIcE?"
T i c k
T o c k
T i c k
T o c k
"OfF wItH hEr HeAd!"
~Welcome to Wonderland, Alice~
Flights of FancyI believe inFlights of Fancy2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I believe in lands somewhere over the rainbow
I believe in worlds hidden under the rabbit hole
I believe in kingdoms on the other side of the wardrobe
I believe in enchanted forests where animals talk in riddles
I believe in palaces where wizards entertain immortal kings
I believe in
in the magic and wonder that only a child's eyes can see
in the universes hopes and dreams can create with a single thought
I believe in everything that so many say are imaginary; in everything that so many people scoff at and call me fanciful and immature for believing in
However, I simply say to them:
"I just still have my imagination, is all."
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
Poetry is:Poetry is:Poetry is:1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
the adhesive to
a fragmented soul;
broken wings that still dream of
F L Y I N G
how snapdragons breathe stardust
and orchids perform ensembles.
when 'imagination' and 'reality' at last discover a
c r o s s r o a d s,
and rush to embrace one another with fervent limbs.
why gravity seems to f
l, taking the world with it.
what flows through the veins of every pair of [shipwrecked; star-crossed] lovers.
who I am; who I was; and who I want to be.
Written AnatomySkin like dehydrated parchmentWritten Anatomy2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Blood like deluged ink
Sink a blade into the seamed veins
And let the words of life all flow free
DreamDon't ever stop feeling what you want to feel. Reel in all the emotions you care to hold deep inside you, and nurture them within your heart. Embrace the sensation of being the only one to truly change your future, as long as you shove past all your doubts and reach the highest capacity your fingers can brush against. Advance towards your goal with your courage for a sword, justice for a shield, and all your hope forging the rest of your armor to brave every adversity you face. Make your passions you have in life happen, as long as you remember to accomplish one simple act.Dream2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
S E C R E T Ss omethingS E C R E T S2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
For YouYour heart may bleed diamonds,For You2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but they all they see is dust.
Your soul may run black with ink,
yet they see it as pandemonium.
The miasmas you feel in your mind are not discord,
but a precious, beautiful gift meant solely for you.
The letters care not
however you arrange them;
perfection is perfection
when it comes from your veins.
These worlds exist for you created them—
there is no such thing as
as long as you know their universes.
Cry and laugh and weep and smile,
for the blossoms you water shall grow
into a microcosm of your own design.
You are a god and a king,
a queen and a demon,
whose words shall turn
heartstrings to gold.
Freedom is the only chain you must break in half,
life is the only prison you must escape from,
and the truth is the only lie you must forget.
Vengeful phantoms in a corporeal form walk the earth;
humanity will spite you for you let
Mother EarthShe has suns for eyes,Mother Earth2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and oceans for tears,
a blade of grass for each hair,
and wisdom beyond her years.
Rage like an earthquake,
sorrow as deep as the sea,
madness funneled like a hurricane,
joy blooming so vividly, kings fall to their knee.
Her skin is a motley,
with hues so dark and bright,
she sleeps during the day,
and lays awake at night.
She has the universe for a heart,
and the cosmos burn in her soul,
however, humanity's blindness,
is at last taking its toll.
''The dead have feelings, too.''"Aria."''The dead have feelings, too.''2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Though I am still reeling from our previous argument, I force down my pride and turn my head to face where Darien's voice is coming from. I'm sure my cheeks are flushed with rage, yet I constrain the cluster of spiteful and venomous words that are still dripping on the tip of my tongue.
Darien's form comes into view--the rage from just minutes before must have made him lose his corporeal appearance--and instantly his eyes meet mine. They are still somewhat cloudy with anger, but as we stare down one another in silence, I see that anger slowly change into something more or less acceptance. He sighs, running a hand through his shaggy brown hair. It is a gesture I have come to known, one he does only when he is truly upset.
Being dead, after all, Darien prefers not to touch anything--not even himself--if he can help it.
"You are a necromancer, Aria. I can't expect you to see my side of the argument. After all, you grew up around death. To you and your kind, death is just a weapon
AbsenceShe used to lie awake all nightAbsence1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
consuming letters with voracity;
it was the utopian lair she created
to slip away from the turbulent world.
Only too soon she learned
that you can't always hide
within parchment crevices.
(reality always finds you)
Even now, when she yearns to fall between printed canyons,
she can't help but curse those passive and lethargic days;
"It's too damn easy to fall in love with words on a page."
pretty little poet fingersfabricated gods rest between thepretty little poet fingers1 year 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.
Diamonds And GlassA human soul is like a glass vase. So fragile, so easy to break. Just one touch, and it can shatter into a thousand shards. So many pieces that not even a lifetime would be enough turns of the clock to meld it all back together.Diamonds And Glass2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
So instead of being glass...
Why don't we turn our souls into diamonds instead?
After all, diamonds are one of the strongest materials to be found in nature that can be shaped into something beautiful.
Who wants to be seen as glass that can be pulverized with the slightest of pressure, when instead you can be viewed as one of the most durable and gorgeous souls in the world?
They say beauty is only skin deep,so hand over that defected scalpel in your bloodless handsThey say beauty is only skin deep,1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and watch carefully as I peel away this tainted skin
to make way for my blackened and corrupted
And everyone can finally see
the grotesque monster that lies deep within
this soiled excuse they seem to enjoy calling
If beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
then why is it that I can't stand
gazing upon my reflection
every time I pass by a mirror?
A Scholarly MasqueradeSometimes I like to pretend,A Scholarly Masquerade2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm like the Mariana Trench with my words.
That my fingers construct such eloquence,
as abyssal and profound as the Grand Canyon.
Yet the truth of the matter is that,
my heart has not been pulverized into dust.
I am about as succint and poignant,
as a rusted bucket.
No More TearsThere is a desert beneath her eyesNo More Tears2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Dry, desolate, despairing
Devoid of life; devoid of emotion; devoid of hope;
Now just a broken ravine carved by sorrow
Now just a barren canyon chiseled by fear
Now just a fragmented chasm sculpted by dread
Now just a tearless void
.I stare at the screen, waiting for some burst of inspiration to rain upon me like a meteor shower sent straight from the gods of literature heaven..1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
A sigh escapes my lips, and I haphazardly bash random buttons of the keyboard, watching as the blank document before me is littered with an incoherent placement of characters. The monotone click-clack seems to just resonate with the narcoleptic beating of my heart, further fueling my senseless crusade.
Where has all my writing gone?
It feels like it was just sucked right out of my soul. Ideas constantly plague my mind, yet all I can do is write them down. When I go to type them out, nothing happens. And then, just as quickly as my urge to write appears, it is gone in a flash—and all I can do is slump forward and hope that maybe next week I'll get something productive done.
My fingers halt in their endless assault of the keyboard, and my eyes slide up to scan the nonsense I've created on the bright screen. It's n
The Fool and the Cynic"He's so sweet and amazing, I'm sure we're meant to be!"The Fool and the Cynic2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
That's what all girls say about their first boyfriend.
"You know, he's really cute too. Plus, he has cute friends!"
Your definition of "cute" normally doesn't include manners or intelligence.
"He took me out for dinner and kissed me after he asked! He's the one! We're going to go to college together!"
Are you an idiot? These types of relationships rarely last...focus on life, not puppy love.
"...hey...we're fighting...I think he hates me now...did I call him too much? Text him too much?"
Try "Was I too naïve?" or maybe even "Did I talk about myself too much?"
"Oh, God...he broke up with me...he thinks we can't be happy. But we...said we loved one another...What do I do?"
Get over it and concentrate on something that's more important. Like your friends. Like me. Or do you only talk to me so you can rub HIM in my face?
"We're getting back together! See, I told you he loves me! And I love him!"<
Passionate SovereigntyI'm so tired of writing love stories;Passionate Sovereignty2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
when I've not had one of my own.
I'm so weary of pretending I'm beautiful;
when my looks could turn a man to stone.
I'm so fatigued waiting for my prince;
when I'm not even a princess.
I'm so sick of pretending to be a siren;
when I could barely pass for an enchantress.
I'll tear down this repulsive prison of a
they call the mind,
brick by hideous brick;
and write my own fairytale at last.
NecromancyI wanted to see what makes a human heartNecromancy1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
so I took a scimitar and ripped apart your decrepit
and inside that primordial ribcage I found nothing but
And you merely gave a cruel parody of a
dug your bloodstained claws into your
and tore out that infestation you called a
"Analyze that well, my little necromancer," you
fangs dripping with the acid I once begged to
"Perhaps you'll be as wise as me once you find the
I could only watch as you sunk back down into
clutching that contaminated Philosopher's Stone
knowing you had replaced my heart with the poison known as
'l o v e.'
Sweet EmilyEmily is six years old.Sweet Emily2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Emily lives with Mommy and Daddy in a big house.
Emily doesn't have very many friends because she doesn't go to school, but that's okay!
Emily has Tabitha! Tabitha and Emily are best friends. Tabitha looks like Emily, too! They both have blonde hair, though Tabitha always has hers in pig tails. They both have green eyes, too. Mommy and Daddy tell Emily that her green eyes means she has a biiiiig imagination; so that means Tabitha does, too! But sometimes Mommy and Daddy don't believe Emily when she tells them all the fun she and Tabitha have together…
They don't believe Emily when she tells them that it was Tabitha who used up all of Mommy's lipstick to make a picture on the wall. They don't believe Emily when she tells them that Tabitha was the one who broke the special plates in the locked cupboard that Emily can't reach. They don't believe Emily when she tells them anything Tabitha does, and it isn't Emily's fault.
"Oh, Emily, darling…it's pe
lost.Wandering,lost.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
waiting for your voice to
reach out for mine.
Fingertips of satin,
caressing the confines of my
whispering a thousand constellations to my waning sanity.
Promises upon promises,
mosaic labyrinths etched into mutilated
Trembling lips — July's blasphemous sun
lingering above December's intangible moon,
and these looking-glass limbs scream for your
tongue to shatter me into one million
Rose eyelashes; iron thorns and liquid petals
flutter open to the dull luster of our
and in the end, your nebula fades away
in the disintegrating morning, just like my [heart] broken
This Ugly, Beautiful WorldI took a school trip to Europe this summer.This Ugly, Beautiful World10 months ago in Emotional More Like This
To be honest, I don't remember much of it anymore. It's all a blur of rushing through crowded streets and cramped bus rides and crowds of foreign languages. When I look at the pictures, in fact, I can't seem to recall taking most of them. I can't even tell what some of them are supposed to be.
Our first stop was Paris, France.
I hated it there. It was dirty. Smelly. Crowded. Disgusting. Wherever we found ourselves, disdain was the only courtesy that was shown to us by those who called the City of Light their home. It didn't even matter that I loved each inch of history that was told to us by our guide - I just wanted to go home and get away from the squirming, teeming atmosphere that clung to me like fog on a rainy day.
We spent three days in Paris.
The first day is nothing but a fractured, bone-weary mess in my mind that consists of walking and walking and eating and walking and listening and walking and walking. The second day is simply bit