GlassI always laugh when you refer to me as glass.Glass1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Not just because of the way you say it,
Or because I know it's a crack at my fragility.
Glass is pure.
I am like granite -
my body nullified from too many clashing traits.
Glass is transparent.
I am like clay -
illegible from all the plastered smiles.
Glass is unyielding.
I am like chalk -
easily broken and scuffed away by meagre things.
Glass is hung up on walls and in great cathedrals,
tinted for enhancement, but only ever painted on by fools.
I am hidden behind keypads and camera lenses,
coated in a thick paste of deceptiveness.
No, my love,
I was never glass. (Despite my fragility)
Call me granite or clay or chalk
and be done with me.
Paradise.My arms ache from digging throughParadise.2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
rough and ruin, in search of
I saw it in a whispered dream,
there, nothing hurt;
we were unspoken.
With winter came warmth and summer snow,
And nothing died, just ceased to
walk with me
memories don't just fadeMy eyes are red and bloodshot, with low-lying eyelids.memories don't just fade1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I widen them; it stings a little.
So I squeeze them shut, and open them again
- very slowly.
I've been sobbing on my pillow; it's smudged with my mascara.
Why didn't I take my makeup off before I went to bed?
What was the point of that question?
I sigh, I know exactly why there's no room in my mind
for thoughts about skincare.
I turn back to the mirror on my bedside, and trail my gaze down from my pathetic eyes
toward a purple gash running diagonally from my cupids bow
to the left side of my cheek.
My lip is split, so it hurts to talk now.
"If I slice your mouth sweetie, you'll remember that you mustn't talk." That's what was said.
My body jolts, I turn the mirror away. I don't want to look at my face anymore.
I shut my eyes - gingerly, to save myself pain -
and I tried my very best
to go to sleep.
Pride and Acceptance ?They loathe me;Pride and Acceptance ?1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
they shout the worst words
(the kind that encircle you like flies; relentless) -
burning, scathing words.
It doesn't matter. I don't care what anybody else says.
I am alone, shunned.
I curl up in the wastelands
of something I once recognised
as my most intimate identity,
but now feels foreign and outlandish;
They're just words. I don't have to let them get to me.
I am proud.I don't need anyone elseto accept me;I accept myself.
HopeHope is just the liesHope1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I tell myself
Hope tells me tomorrow
Will be better then today
So I don't cry myself to sleep
Hope whispers that next time
I'll do things right
When I only make it worse
Hope says that everything will be alright
When I know it won't be
Hope promises that there is a perfect
Person for me and that one day
I'll find that person
Hope shouts that one day
I'll do great things
And will always be rememebered
So that I'll never truely die
Hope sings of a better place
When there isn't one
Hope mocks that it could be worse
But most of the time
I'd do anything to not be me
Hope is merely a lie
But that's okay
Because a lot of things are lies
Please (Don't) Hate MeIf I told you a liePlease (Don't) Hate Me1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
But it made you smile
Would it still be a sin?
If I opened the door
But turned you away
Would you still come in?
If I sliced my skin
But it didn't hurt
Would it still be wrong?
If I acted all brave
But couldn't face it
Would I still be strong?
If I tied my noose
Around a tree's open arms
Would it be an embrace?
If I left tonight
And begged you stay
Would you still give chase?
If I committed sin
But hurt nobody
Would I be welcome above?
If I do something you hate
But only for your good
Could it still be true love?
Previous SelvesI was the fairyPrevious Selves11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
with the twinkle in her toes.
She leaves twinkles of glitter
wherever she goes.
I was the ghost
with the gaunt little face,
She leaves blotches of blackness
all over the place.
I was the brownie
with the perfect intention,
She leaves parcels and presents
wherever you'd mention.
I was the imp
with the plans and the tricks,
She leaves clusters of chaos
wherever she picks.
But where would I be
without magic or might?
I'd have to be me...
Not a chance.