Human Nature When you are young,
they will treat you with the softness of spring.
They will guide you through the winter winds and
over snowy hills, admiring the brilliance of your
midday innocence; pulling daisies from the earth
just to place them in your hair. And they will
whisper to each other of how beautiful you are.
When you grow older,
they will treat you with the indifferences of autumn.
They will urge you from the complacency of your own
fleeting fulfillments, and they will watch your
brilliance fade with the swiftness of the sky. You
will shed your fragile childhood with the colors of
the trees, and you will learn to face the winter winds
without their guiding arms. And they will whisper to
each other of how beautiful you are.
When you are grown,
they will treat you with the coldness of winter. They
will leave you bare and naked before the ravenous wolves,
expecting you to fend for your own forgotten brilliance,
asking why you've kept those wilting daisies in your hair.
Into the PlungeBuild me aInto the Plunge2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sandcastle on the edge of the sea,
where the cliffs are sprayed with the salty tears of the tide,
and sirens cry into the night for the arms of a lover
to whisk them away into a dry night free of brine;
Where we shall dance the sunset's furtive sigh of redemption
on the edge of saline bluffs, and kiss with the gunpowder
of forgotten cannons high on the waves of an abandoned ocean;
Teetering the edge of the world, where the Kraken and Leviathan lay in wait
for lost-lorn victims of broken hearts and brackish undertows
coursing through their veins.
Evil, Beautiful, FirefliesI'm covered in fireflies;Evil, Beautiful, Fireflies2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
All up and down my legs.
They sleep in my skin
And hide my sin,
My precious red fireflies.
They ignite my body
And set it ablaze.
They turn all of my pain
Into a crimson haze,
My precious red fireflies.
They burn through flesh
In a criss-cross mesh
And spread their wings
All over me,
My precious red fireflies.
They hum silently,
Whispering away my shame.
They burn brightly,
Setting my blood aflame,
My precious red fireflies.
I hate them but they love me
But nobody can ever see
Because they refuse to leave.
Not that I want them to;
Because they care,
More than you ever could do,
My precious red fireflies.
They want me to die,
To jump, to fly.
They want to own me.
They want to set me free
And make it so it can be
And my precious red fireflies.
forgetting how to sleeptake two.forgetting how to sleep1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
a week past the end of the world,
and there’s something therapeutic
about not caring. I must’ve
really messed up in another life. I
wake up shaking and forget to sleep
shaking and hold your hand, shaking,
remembering the moment I became
poison. I feel crazier than ever; cementhead’s
good and gone with his plastic wrists
and missing soul. the boy who entertains
his unfriendliest nightmares couldn’t
muster up enough innocence
to make it right. (today, he writes
a letter; dear Sophia, he tells me
it doesn’t get better. I’m
locked up for a crime I
didn’t commit. you did it,
Sophia. you built me
wrong.) but you know me,
I fell in love with a problem I
couldn’t fix, a boy blinded
who’s never seen the light.
He was a stormy violet but I
am cyan graying with age--
I spent most of my life dying,
and the rest of it wishing I
was someone else. they tell us
only god will see your ugly;
and the girl who swallowed
MuteI rip out my vocal cordsMute2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
One at a time
With no disregard towards
The blood and gore I'm
Getting on my rotting palms
No one cares anyways
They wouldn't care if I was dropping bombs
They're too wrapped up in their own days
Why make myself mute
Now they can't hear me complain
About my oh so very cute
And insignificant pain
Now they won't need
To suffer anymore
They will be freed
From me, only a constant sore
Can We Both Be Ugly?She's a diamond, while I am coal.Can We Both Be Ugly?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am the coal, black and boring.
Set me on fire while I am alive.
Watch me burn,
Watch me die.
She is the diamond, shiny and attention-grabbing.
Lay your greedy hands on the whore.
She's there for the looks and money,
No real work,
She receives the perks.
We both wanted him,
But I bit my tongue.
What a fool I would be to ask for his heart.
He sees me as a footrest,
Only here for support and only when he needs it,
The demand for me is limited.
He lusts for her seductive nature,
Her glare blinding his eyes,
She's tearing him apart with her sharp edges,
It kills me to witness.
"I can't hurt you.
"But she is my support,
"She is but a coal,
weak and pitiful.
You want that?
The spineless coward?
She's thirsty for your heartbreak,
but my fingers are gentle,
let me hold you."
His situation is himself.
I love him more than I could scream,
But I maintain my silence,
I suffer in the dark.
I see his sorrow and
Time Is The CureTime Is The Cure2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Time Is The Cure
Right hand of destruction
Left hand of creation
It's a never ending cycle
A fatal revival caught in a downward spiral
I tear down reality’s mask
As I build up a truth to give hope a chance
The veiled darkness decays
The guiding light fades
I let go of an old pain
As new tears wash it away
The sun always rises
The moon always sets
The rain subsides
The storm is put to rest
Clouds confide / Memories detest
Skies collide / Cries confessed
Light shines / Dark regrets
Pain hides / Peace professed
A new day awaits
An old night forgotten
Tomorrow I shall awake
To cradle what remains unbroken
I can't erase my mistakes
But I can't let them define my fate
There's always control
There's always faith to hold
Opposites are locked together
I am the sinner; I am the confessor
With time- comes change
Agony and serenity dawn a n
You're Not?You're anorexic if you're thinYou're Not?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You're not? Then you're obese.
If you're different, you're insane
You're not? Then you're a fake.
If you're happy, you're hiding something.
You're not? You must be emo.
If you're dating, you're a slut.
You're not? You must have no friends.
If you're popular, you're a jerk.
You're not? You're a nobody.
If you're quiet, you must be disabled.
You're not? You obnoxious freak.
If you're you, you're wrong.
Then you must be perfect.
Milky Waymy body is a road mapMilky Way2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of hazard signs
but on the days
when the mirror
is nice to me,
i can hear
like little racing
beneath my skin:
you are not worthless.
you are strong.
your ribcage has a meaning-
these bruises are
ste ti & you are the Milky Way.
Unconscious Epiphany.Unconscious Epiphany.Unconscious Epiphany.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I thrive and depend on your compliments
And it is only then as a direct consequence,
Am I truly able to write with confidence.
Even though your words are only temporary.
I deem your contribution as utterly necessary,
In order to refresh my wavering, selective memory.
My own validation depends on your approval.
Whether it is congratulatory or discouragingly brutal.
Your input is the one thing that is most crucial.
Can I call myself a writer if I don't believe in myself?
When I constantly seek approval from everyone else?
How can I then expect to make any sort of wealth?
Of a craft and skill I still think anyone is able to produce.
Is there any point in me putting my apparent talent to use?
When I limit and submit myself into a negative recluse.
I was told I must have self belief in order to achieve,
The dream that I am so desperately trying to receive.
The body can only accomplish what the mind believes.
I know I must rid myself from any form of self doubt.
Untitled I spend my sleepless nightsUntitled1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
deconstructing her suicide
and gnawing on regret--
because I always told her she was a star-child
born for better worlds and quiet days
alive at night and in the rain.
And as I lay on summer grass, damp with dew,
with only the moon to witness, and
with her head on my chest,
her breathing even and slow with the whisper of sleep,
I promised her that she would be fine.
But I am a liar--
white words turn black in time,
as she was no fool, no child, no blessed angel.
She was the girl who had demons in her veins
raking her wrists, pulling at her throat
bleeding in her eyes and staining her heart
she had storms that gave no warning,
screaming of death and despair;
some of which would last a day or a week,
and others which never ceased.
When I held her in my arms
she would always tremble for a moment
and then collapse and exhale sorrow
And when I kis
everyone gets a miracleeveryone gets a miracle.everyone gets a miracle2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the thing with miracles is that who can tell a
miracle what it is? is it watching the sun bleed
into the horizon holding your lover's sweaty hand,
all cheap perfume and hour-old petrichor like a
twenty-first century version of numinosity, since
it's amazing you even found their heavy-lidded,
flecks-of-gold eyes in the first place? is it near-death
experiences where you're lifeguarded back into the world
by a kind stranger in a surgical mask? or is it nothing
spectacular, at least by those standards, but just
simply waking up in the morning, having the eyes and
lungs and heart to do so, the mouth to speak 'i
am alive and that is pretty awesome in itself'?
but, see, everyone gets a miracle.
a true, unrelenting one, the kind where your heart
swells up to nearly burst out of your body and your eyes
well up and the only word you can speak is 'wow'. maybe
you're twenty-eight or eighteen or forty-two and perched
precariously under fog and mist and shying away from the
9729 kilometers away, to be exact.i have these bones like flowers-9729 kilometers away, to be exact.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
fragile and finely plucked,
these lily stargazers
are kissing ocean beds,
making love to sirens
for a taste of her
i want to tape maps to my limbs-
throw caution to the wind
as i gather up
every love letter receipt,
from every false attempt
i ever wrote her
& forget for just a moment
that even still
she does not love me.
UntitledThe hours are slow in the white corridorsUntitled5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but you are with me when the hands strike fear
and the clock whispers twelve.
You hear my voice echo down the halls
a half-empty ward
a clear glass of psychotropic drops.
You crush my ribs
and rob my lungs of tears.
You kiss my wrists
and strip the bone
The silver constellation of scars,
the scarlet mouth of screams
softened by the gentle murmurs
of bodies creased with love.
You breathe the poetry I cannot speak,
you hold the fragile shape of my skull
like a bruised eggshell
as the nurses hold me down
You feel it in your lungs
when the needle slides through,
and the drop of blood is yours too.
You feel the medicated sleep,
the sweet lull of seduction
as sedation pulls at the hull of my veins.
Long hours spent visiting your daughter
While doctors tell you she's insane.
You lie awake each night as the weeks pass
and I feel it in my chest,
in each breath
The hurt I crease into the faces
of my sweet family.
I ache and I am hollow
but you sli
.he splits hearts like.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
oranges in the
sinks his teeth into
ripened flesh, and
leaves nothing but the
rind, too hard to
how to be a poet: the basics.kiss all the peoplehow to be a poet: the basics.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
you know you shouldn't,
solely for the reason
that they look good
look at your scars
like mothers peer into
cradles. then make
more; make yourself into
a symbol for infinity,
or at least try,
because it never works.
patch yourself up.
say, "darling, you're okay,"
while staring at yourself in the
mirror with your hair
damp and your lips
chapped (refer to stanza
one). change. grow.
it's what we like to read,
miss the people in your life
until they leave,
and then miss yourself
as well. screw everything up,
and then write about it
like it had to happen.
try to believe it, ignore
the voice in your head that hisses
and groans in your sleep,
behind your eyelids.
"baby, you're a fuck up,
you know it know it know it".
try to carve the humming
out of your body
by exit way of your veins.
be hospitalized. give in, give up,
play along, stop writing.
but then you start writi
In a Little Girl's MindThere sits the girl with the things in her eyesIn a Little Girl's Mind2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Monsters, destruction, and sweet butterflies
Hopscotch and daisies, surrounded by screams
Beautiful dresses now torn at the seams
Crayons and paintbrushes, villains and grins
Young, gladsome innocence, hatred and sins
Little red houses on roads left to fade
Gorgeous moonlight shining off of the blade
Blood pouring out as she cries her own name
Knowing she's forced to take each bit of blame
She could have stopped it and left it behind
All of these things in her troubled young mind
She could have saved them if she dared to try
Rather, though, she left herself there to die.
Now, others watch as she sits on the ground
Keeping their distance and letting her drown
In her own worries and things she won't tell
Waiting for her mind to kill her as well…
Star SwallowerShe'sStar Swallower4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
her head, a stadium drowning with applause.
yet its seats are empty like the notebooks
where armies of words should be marching.
instead she dismantles clocks
thinking she can play with time.
behind the mountains lurks a darker reasoning
a twisted labyrinth of rationalizations
hidden from the suns brilliance.
Years alone beneath the bleached fluorescent
reading those already dancing in the moonlight.
she is living a literary half-life through them
hiding from the symmetry of the writer.
licking salty rocks of excuses.
saving her secrets for posthumous excavation.
decades of productivity left for moths to chew.
you're throwing coffins into the sea
with each day that passes wordless.
denying us the sweet whistles from inside your skull.
meaningful, impacting stories only you could pen.
Stop climbing broken staircases
towards the pale summer stars of obscurity.
these are still fruitful years of beauty.
remove your armor.
claw beyond your fears.
allow us into your wonderla
wrists that roarmama sayswrists that roar3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
pull down your sleeves
they'll see, they'll see
but no-one's even looking
i say mama
tigers are proud and strong
and tigers show their stripes
so today i'm a tiger
and who says
i can't be a tiger
when razors made me fierce
and secrets kept me lonely
i can't tiger-roar
when everything unsaid
ripped my throat raw
i made my stripes
with tiger-claws and tiger-teeth
so damned if i'm not a tiger
and damned if i won't roar
mama, i'm a tiger
mama, hear me roar
Who Are You - II - KathrynODriscollI am gallbladder andWho Are You - II - KathrynODriscoll1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
the rubber taste of my own tongue -
I am a kidney stone,
a heart murmur
and a half digested ball of dust.
I am, in sum,
every part of me
that I couldn't give away
to help someone else.
HaikuWriMo1HaikuWriMo1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Church spire, stretching,
weds the moon.
and a heavy heat;
steeds of elven knights,
armoured all in blue.
upon orange glass:
a specimen, fossilised
veined in gold—
fallen like snowdrops.
Eagle in flight,
great wings cradling
peeking from a soft,
smoky grey duvet.
The world settles;
the heavens awaken—
two arrows in tandem.
The yellow of an
crinkled paper moon.
Tangled in old web—
a spider, noosed.
of a smudged landscape:
pot of molten gold
along the treetops.
There is no place for me.There is no place for my ideals or me,There is no place for me.2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
There is no place for justice or mercy.
There is no place for true love anymore,
It's a sad truth, it saddens me at the core.
There is no place for me in this world,
Where the cries of the needy must go unheard.
I'm cast out for my ideals, my gentleman's code,
Well, I was born like this, a man in hero mode.
There is no place for a hero in this world,
The knight in shining armour must go unheard.
There is no such thing as a Fairy Tale,
I am not Prince Charming, just another sail.
On a boat afloat on a sea of sadness,
The winds of mourning passing through me.
There is nowhere in this world for me...
There is nowhere in this world for gallantry.
A poem about loveLove consists out of painA poem about love2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Love consists out of desire
Love is what I admire
Love always fights against my brain
Love is despising
Love is passion
Love is not a piece of fashion
Love is always surprising
None of these things are untrue
Love is enough to make one weep
That is love as it seems
Yet when I think of you
I simply can’t fall asleep
Since life is finally better, than in my own dreams
with a whisperthis is how we rule the world,with a whisper2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the forgotten, lobotom-ised,
of a long lost dystopast.
not with a SHOUT,
we do not argue.
we do not even unsheath
we whisper in your children's ears
the memories of what should have been.
the life we all crave.
the death we all crave.
WE do not discriminate
our opinions onto others
pressing the side of the blade
down onto the flesh
all are bitten
with the fever of our belief.
this is how we rule the world,
we tell stories,
we incite a generation
with their own scar/r/ed lungs
with a whisper.
Memories?How do you stay sane,Memories?2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
when the screams echo in your ears?
This is not a game,
these are living fears.
I'm searching for the truth,
but find only confusion.
Was it a secret in my youth,
or just an illusion?
Did he really hit her,
or was it a dream?
It's all such a blur,
and things aren't always as they seem.
Should I ask them?
No, they'd never tell.
Was it enough to condemn?
Will he go to hell?
Did he really do it?
Do I even want to know?
Maybe I should quit,
let the memories go.
Ignorance is bliss,
that I know too well.
The memories, I dismiss.
Send them all to hell.