MutantHear me read it
I am a mutant.
| My skin does not sallow in the sun
and I do not blush jaundice through my cheeks.
| I do not have extra fingers, or toes -
although my spine;
it boasts an ironic vertebrae,
it is a long tally of the hearts I have broken
and when I straighten my spine the bones Pop out of place.
I am out of place.
| I do not have a super power,
I lack exceptionality in all but my ordinariness.
| there is a vengeful bacteria feasting -
on my shoulder places;
Beneath the RoseI can't burn the street down, the tar will fill our lungs,Beneath the Rose11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I can't fix the bridges, or the bolts bedded in our tongues.
I can't explain the constant, buried deep beneath the rose,
with all the other things I broke; death and all erodes.
HatredYou are a hemorrhage. You are the violent implosion of my blood under my skin that makes it itch like I am morphine-high. You are my blood seeping from arteries into artillery and shooting holes through my over-ripened heart. You are the snarl on my lip and scars across my forearms that burst open when I over reach my capabilities. You are the writhing groaning dying beast in my ribbed cage that aches for a kill. If I released you, you would snap my neck and watch me spurt out the only truth between us; my blood. You are venom and sap, holding my structure together from otherwise limp apathy but nonetheless you are poison, and how I hate you, hatred.Hatred1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
40810If only you were soulless.408101 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
If you were mindless, blind,
you and I could make a beautiful disaster.
The press would write of our brief affair;
they'd paint me (the woman in red) as pathetic.
They will not consider how I need your love
or how it pains me so deeply to throw myself at you.
I will not be remembered as a poet warrior.
I'll be the eternal survivor no more.
All who think of me will shake their bowed heads
and tearfully remark;
If only you were soulless.
If you were mindless, blind,
You wouldn't have been such a bloody disaster.
Getting OlderWhen I was a little girlGetting Older1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I wanted to be my sisters.
I wanted their hair,
their make up,
I wanted my oldest sister's bedroom,
which was always full of eclectic
but cohesive tat.
I wanted to wear doc martens
and my school tie backwards.
When I was seven
I realised I wanted to be like
I wanted to write
and play guitar
and for people to listen to me
and respect me when I spoke.
I wanted people to love me
and for my words to touch lives
When I was thirteen
and I started getting bullied
at my secondary school
my mum taught me how to smile
when you're drowning.
I wanted to be like her.
I wanted her inner strength,
her hair and her wisdom.
I stopped rhyming my poems
in the hopes it would please her.
When I was eighteen
and my life wasn't really going right
I wanted my grandmother's life.
I wanted to be surrounded by
people who loved me, who I loved.
My grandmother was
a living example of love as a verb.
She took her life and decided
that she wanted to fill it w
WhoreI thread a vein out through a scalpel notch;Whore11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and use it as a ribbon to present my heart to you.
I cough a little spare blood. I didn't need it.
I lick the copper from my silenced subterfuge mouth
and it reminds me of the prostitution of my soul
as I pour myself over other men's empty hands
in the dying hope that someone might hold on.
I smear my wrist against a digital canvas and cry;
I give it all to you freely, and nothing in return.
You smile. I break. You hear but you don't listen;
you just throw another single penny for my thoughts.
The White ThingsNothing is as far away as a minute ago.The White Things1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
No matter how hard you row against the tide
we can never reach it, never return there.
It's hard to sleep in the light of my regrets
that creeps through curtain and barriers
to rot away and bleach all things white.
It's hard to sleep knowing that no distance
is as far away as sixty small seconds ago.
Immalleable, we rot, and things turn white.
Something(someone) Smallmy curious ivoriesSomething(someone) Small11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
tucked between these lips
beg to see what kisses taste like,
to feel what love looks like,
but dampened down
between safety and sound
the tiniest bones in my body, in my ears,
vibrate with a fake smile
and the nod of my dainty doll head
as i lie (with you/to you) again
and grimace; i'm okay.
Chalk OutlineA chalk outline waits for meChalk Outline10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
sometimes it slips into bed with my shadow
and I can do nothing but roll my eyes
like a mis=abused and weary parent,
but every night when my shadow
merges with the edges of the day's page
and blurs into a dirty midnight orange
I lie in bed and shudder;
without my shadow's protection I feel it,
a chalk outline waits for me.
Sleeping soundlyHe's talking in his sleep againSleeping soundly1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
And I can't help wondering
If he's saying all the things he feels he can't say
When I'm (not) listening in the day.
DesperationYour spine is a secretDesperation1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
my fingers can uncode.
Your vertebrae cracks open,
your secrets are exposed.
I suck out the tender marrow
and scrape flesh off the bone
hoping; if I absorb you
I will no longer feel alone.
Sometimes, it's the little things.He always told me I was deep.Sometimes, it's the little things.1 year ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
An unfiltered distillation of a humanitarian ocean.
He accepted me, gills and all -
He knew that I needed my eccentricities to breathe
under the seascrapers of pollution
that hung over my head.
Or he said he did.
At the end of it all,
he tugged the gills open to expose me;
my innards trailed across the coral reef
as I swam trustingly forward, hoping for the best.
I tried to believe.
I believed him, gills and all -
But eventually, he left me, with holes in my sides
Where he had spooned out my intestines
To tether them to a boulder.
I tried to breathe.
He always told me I was deep.
It must have been a surprise to read:
Death by puddle.
For every boy I ever kissedi.For every boy I ever kissed1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
you took my hand 'neath the magnolia
at a christmas dinner party I held.
your mouth was cold. so were my affections.
you were the first man to listen to me.
i let you listen to my heartbeat; but
when the day fell away, you bruised me deep.
you were my safe harbour, and i your storm
turning your misery to naught but air
but i squirmed away from your tongue, repulsed.
you were my cradle, when i couldn't sleep
you would hold me close and pray for something,
anything, to keep me safe. (it was you).
eleven months spent sleeping with my phone,
i still couldn't believe when you kissed me
even after midnight struck us again.
i don't miss those guitar-player fingers
you wrapped me 'round. i loved enough for you
until i realised you didn't love me.
we fell into our love by accident
and like one, there were some fatalities
when you said you loved me using her name.
opposites attract. i fell hard for you.
you kissed me in starlit castle ruins.
Mother EarthMy body is the earth;Mother Earth1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
See how under this bruise
A seed of malcontent sleeps.
See what grows out of each pore
As the pain pours over again.
There is rust in my fingerbeds
That poisons the roots
Of all good that hopes to grow here.
I am the convulsing, revolution
of the convoluted Earth...
I am the tectonic blades that clash
and shout when I curl up and hide.
You will feel me when I tremble,
and fear me when I explode
for under the magmanimous skin
There burns a core of hate
That can't be marred by human hand.
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.
Framed[ I met him at the county fair.Framed1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
It wasn't like the songs predicted;
I had mud up my shins and he
had grass in his hair. What a mess. ]
[ I kissed him at my grandma's house.
He swallowed me and digested me;
I became a part of his simmering self.
We fused together, and I died. ]
[ I married him in a triangular church,
When I turned up in white he grinned
and whispered "what, no muddy knees?".
I put a leaf from my bouquet in his hair. ]
[ He kissed her at my grandma's house.
She had left it to us when she passed.
In the house where I'd learned about love
he taught me all I know about betrayal. ]
[ He left me at the train station.
I'd helped him with his leather suitcase,
struggling to get a grip of the situation
I gave a habitual kiss goodbye. Awkward. ]
[ He met another girl in group therapy.
They had a mad, passionate affair for a year
then, it expired. Shortly after, she did too.
He came to me, life turning to sand. ]
[ I forgave him at my birthday party
surrounded by friends wh
CarboniseI carbonise.Carbonise1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
My brittle bones turn
into pencil lead
and etch and ache against me.
I break open my elbow
and scrawl onto the walls
with the charcoal beneath.
a cave drawing of my end
onto a blistered skin
of plaster and mortar.
I rub blackened bone
to make sparks flutter
and bounce across the brickwork
United, We WriteHear me read itUnited, We Write1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
0hgravity, if by some divine fortune you should decide that today is the day you will fail me, then let me soar through the ChemicalSkyline. Grant me a-lovely-anxiety that raises a storm InTheStarryNightSky for me to riseandbe above all else. Let me soar.
How I long to be the frail rider-on-the-storm and not a victim of the RoamingShadow, Rogue-Of-The-Night, that BlackVelvetNightmare of my nights and days. I long
I will remember for youDo you remember;I will remember for you1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
It was September and I was seventeen.
I was gnarled into the corner of a bus
Mithering away at my gloomy mood;
Trying to shake the oppressive landscape in my mind.
It was unexpected.
It was unexpected to see you there.
You were folded primly onto a bus shelters seat
With her hand enveloped in yours
You both lifted your other hands, synchronised,
And waved to me with your familiar smiles.
I was surprised.
I was surprised to see you there.
Your grey hat tipped so rain slipped off
And her glasses whitening with the steam of her laugh
I just looked at you, gluttonous,
I absorbed every detail of that moment.
It was unexpected.
It was unexpected to see you there.
But there you were nonetheless,
Eighty years old, clasping hands awaiting a bus
My eyes leaked they were overfull of the sight
Of two people, quietly, silently in love.
I was surprised.
I was surprised to see you there
Another DayTonight's sky is a fiber-optic forestAnother Day1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
for us to lose our minds in,
for hopes to become the cloudscape
and for dancing to become the norm.
Tonight's moon is a promise made
to us to keep our dreams within,
for us to build a starlit staircase
and unlock that gilded cage.
Tonight's dusk is a champagne toast
for us to drown our sorrows in
and the reminder that tomorrow
our lives go supernovicly astray.
Hard.On days like this it is hard to moveHard.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It is hard to dress myself.
Blouse a chest plate; dress me in chain mail.
- with the helmet on it is hard to see
it is hard to open my eyes, or lift my chin.
On days like this, it is hard to be human.
It is hard to raise my hands, to button
or to brush my mangy hair.
It is hard to construct the image of a person
out of these destitute materials.
it is hard to pump clotted, crumbling blood.
On days like this, it is hard to be human.
SpellboundI am not enchanted.Spellbound1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
The dreams come
but they are not dreams at all
and I am not asleep.
Your hand sliding up my thigh
and your groan slicks itself onto my neck,
embeds itself into my skin.
I wear the remnants
of your ecstasy in my flesh still.
It crawls when any other nears it.
It came to be that your bed-side clock
replaced my fearful heartbeat
as I laid in stasis and hoped -
for a passing; of time, of fingers, of life.
I cannot sleep with ticking in my ear anymore
I don't think of time running out, but of paralysis.
I think of lapses of concentration,
I think of those slow burning moments
that stretched out longer than I wanted
and lasted longer still. I think of the tears.
I am not enchanted.
The days pass
but they are not days at all
and I am not awake.
I am pacified by the numbness
of lobe or cortex that controls memory,
a self imposed strike out against you,
a strike my hand should have made.
Regret is buried
six feet beneath my fingernails.
CopperThe underside of my heartCopper1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
has rusted through the shell.
Smooth tissue hangs, sodden,
through the ring of oxidised needles.
The frantic muscle
takes on water, tries not to drown,
in the body of fluids
you spat into my chest cavity.
Heavy barnacles of regret
cluster cancerously 'round 'til,
like all else, they disintegrate
with the acidic memory of you.
Losing my BreathIt's 2amLosing my Breath1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the calling birds
are hatching in my heart,
I feel it crack and they emerge.
Feel them drilling on my ribs,
the steady anxious thrum
of a flight risk
waiting to happen.
and I can't breathe,
memories of you
are nesting in my throat
I can't work around them.
It's cutting off the circulation,
and my frantic heart
tries to keep on.
and tears scratch their directions
into my cheeks,
they flounder and meander
and they erode.
My skin and soul is scraped down
layer by layer
and another day is heralded
by the angry flutterings in my chest.
I try to swallow my pride,
dam the tears
and crawl through the dark again.
Coughing up blood
and inhaling iron filings
(The remainder of
what used to be my life).
DaleHear me read itDale1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
They will not silence the bells for you.
The roses will not halt their will to wilt
and lilies will disassemble under the earth.
They will not dust Frankincense over cities
and trees will not bow down in grief
willingly donating limbs to become tissues.
But throats will dry out mid-sentence and
black hankerchiefs will be dubbed into pockets.
There will be enough salt to melt the ice
embedded around the hearts of old enemies.
Old enemies will turn friend once more
and the church will be full, packed with love.
The world is unlikely to take a moment's prayer;
Earth spins too fast to pause for any of us.
But the meagre collection of people you touched
(meagréd only by the tear-ridden knowledge
that you would have touched many more in time)
Will ache tonight and whisper of your friendship.
You were and always will be; loved.