WhisperI want to create an aromatic sea of jasmines
and stardust mountains of silver and —
Inkblot skeletons with paper mache
hearts, whose bones shall burn with one glance at the
sun; gravestones of blood diamonds and tears of thistles...
Harp strings ringing in grotesque harmony, screaming
for slender fingers to pluck and caress with devotion.
I want to write
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
.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..2 years 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
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."
GlacialJanuary wolves stalk her shivering heart;Glacial1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
bitter ice-fangs sink into feverish skin.
Frost devours slowly, succinctly, shamelessly;
yet the howling tossed chains around her
paper-thin limbs and dragged her down.
Arctic icebound lips quivering,
silver eyelashes fluttering emptily,
alabaster fingertips reaching out;
frenzied yet frozen and fractured.
"Drowning," she whispers in a winter song,
and places her mouth upon snow-dusted fur.
"Blood freezing in these frostbitten veins."
And then the pack of aurorean wolves bolt away,
leaving her smiling in the blizzard of humanity.
NecromancyI wanted to see what makes a human heartNecromancy2 years 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.'
AimlessSpring forgot how to begin anew,Aimless1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
so Winter stole her amnesic heart and tossed it to the wolves.
"Devour me," the stars seemed to beg;
so Gravity plunged them into the ocean's nebulous depths.
These lips no longer offer hymns up to fallen gods—
so Fate sacrificed herself for the chance to be reborn.
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.
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,
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."
Storybook EndingHer ink-stained lips have kissed too many a forgotten page,Storybook Ending2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and phoenix down]
And her Prince Charming has yet to come,
shattering like stars]
So all she can do is gaze out her tower window,
concealing poisoned apples]
Clutch that corroded and timeworn blade,
tearing down castle walls]
Toss her childhood fables to the waltzing of the moon,
[even broken wings
wish for happily ever afters]
[once upon a time
there was a girl who became her own hero.]
HellfireYou see her nonsensical whims and think to yourself,Hellfire2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"nothing but a simpler state of mind."
She hides behind an ivory mask,
and torpid mirth;
Radioactive sulfuric masses of artificial
crystalline lips upturned in an adamant curve.
Laughter echoing throughout hollow bones, concave and
just as empty as the cartilage ensnaring the vacant
You can't fathom the netherworld tucked deep in her translucent limbs;
nor comprehend the frenzied howls from the fangs of a decaying Cerberus.
For when you will at last board Charon's ferry and float down the conflagrant waters of
Styx, regarding her perched upon a throne sewn from the blistering skin of her enemies and
wearing a crown of brambles and tears and seeds born of pandemonium—
Her soul's true colors will shine at last: her mind and body nothing but
kindle for the overdue vengeance of her ravenous
she reminds me of myselfI'm sorry, Alice, the looking glass lies.she reminds me of myself2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Flowers don't sing
and hares don't keep time.
Your world of wonder
is all make believe -
Why else would your reflection
giggle and wink?
You aren't a child any longer, my dear.
Have a matchstick for your dreams
and a hammer for that mirror.
Our hands may be calloused
as we coddle our pasts
but delusions are enemies
and wistful muses pass.
I will wait for you, darling,
I will write for you, lass.
I will capture life's beauty
and contain it in glass.
Though, the singing that lingers
is the voice of my own.
The fragrant flowers are dying
even while their seed is sown.
lost.Wandering,lost.2 years 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
Her Aesthetic CrusadeShe paints a world of crimson midnight,Her Aesthetic Crusade2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and you watch the sanguine colors drip down her skin.
Wilted rose petals stain her wrist scarlet,
and canyons are carved deep in porcelain flesh.
"Battle scars," she tells you simply with a flick of the paintbrush,
meticulous as she resumes her sanguine masterpiece.
"Have you won?" you ask,
though you already know the answer.
She smiles fondly and holds up the tormented easel,
for all to see the newly wrought crevice of flaming burgundy.
"How can one win this war against the burning red, my friend,
when you can barely win the battle against yourself?"
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.
-My mind-1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
s h u t u p.
Too many "fuck you's"
that morph into
drip off this
Try and make it better. Fail. Try again. Break down.
So many faults
that seem to just
turn me into someone
Look into the mirror. See nothing but a clone. Fabrication. No longer me.
I stare and want
to break that glass
so that I can also
b r e a k.
Try and say something. Turns into nothing but rage. Take it out on you.
This shattered heart
only wants to make it
and become one again.
"I want to hate you."
"But I can't."
"So I hate me instead."
"But why won't this stop?"
"Why can't you make it stop?"
"...it's not my fault."
Say what you want to say. Honest brutality.
"H E L P M E"
It's time for me to
s h u t u p.
Open Heart SurgeryI've got ink throbbing through fissured veins,Open Heart Surgery1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
poisoning every atom of my soul.
"Bite your tongue," they say.
How I'd love to chew the damn thing off
and suck down every filthy syllable
just like the rotten bone marrow it is.
They'd all watch as my body spontaneously combusts
and becomes nothing but convoluted karma.
And so I wrote,
Teach me the ways of ripping out a human heart,
and stitching it onto ink-stained parchment."
The answer that came was rasped from a cauterized throat:
"Read your future in the collapsed palm of the stars;
find the abandoned pulse of your lionhearted muse;
steal their conformed scalpel and make it your own."
are my words poetic enough for you?maybe not.are my words poetic enough for you?1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
because i will never be the fire-hearted girl with remedial stardust lips,
dancing with the astral wolves that hunt beneath her moon-kissed skin,
with the courage to plant wilting lilacs into every crippled soul she finds.
but what if they were?
then i would be the ink blots coating the archives of humankind,
the fractured jewel tucked away in a catastrophic dragon's chest,
and the lyric every mismatched bone engraves into their marrow.
Remedial OppositionCease with making promises that you cannot ever keep—Remedial Opposition2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
can you not see this loathing becoming even more deep?
Halt in your useless words of comfort, telling me everything will be okay—
how can you say such things so simply, when you are never here day by day?
Refrain from acting as if you can turn my world from bleak to bright—
when was the last time you truly changed every wrong thing to right?
It was such a simple pleasure, back in those days;
just one word from you made gold from the grays.
A luxury it was, I now see that more clear than glass;
for those times are done and gone, having long since passed.
Indulgence was my sin whenever thoughts of you jolted through my brain;
it is a laughing matter at how correspondence with you now causes me pain.
You say you want to help me, you say nothing will ever be my fault...
but is that true, when you regret my slow change from child to adult?
You know I tried my damnedest to continue being your best friend...
but what is t
It's an unrequited love, isn't it?I know you will never read this.It's an unrequited love, isn't it?2 years ago in Letters More Like This
I know you will never get the chance to even catch a glimpse of this.
But I just want you to know that I love you.
You're perfect to me. I don't care about your flaws. I don't care about the faults that everyone else always seem to point out.
I really don't care.
What matters to me is that you are you. And because you are you, I love you.
I just wish you could love me back.
I just wish you could say the same words to me--to make me believe that I'm not the worthless thing I see in the mirror every day.
I just wish you could be here, comforting me when I need it, and telling me you love me over and over again. I promise I would never get tired of those three simple words:
"I love you."
But how can you love me back?
You're not even real.
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.
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~
I'm So TiredI'm so tired of crying,I'm So Tired2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm so tired of loving,
I'm so tired of dying
inside my soul each day.
I'm so tired of hoping,
I'm so tired of dreaming,
I'm so tired of imagining.
It will never be real anyway.
I'm so tired of falling,
I'm so tired of failing,
I'm so tired of walking
when love is so far away.
I'm so tired of wishing,
I'm so tired of searching,
I'm so tired of remembering
those beautiful things you used to say.
I'm so tired of bleeding,
I'm so tired of yearning,
I'm so tired of living
in a world that's grey.
But most of all I'm tired,
of being the person I am,
I'm tired of my mistakes,
I'm tired of my broken heart.
I'm just so tired of being me.
NaPoWriMo: Day 3Today,NaPoWriMo: Day 31 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I wanted to pluck my ribs
from out my chest &
hang them about my house
like wind chimes-
a taunt for hungry wolves.
I didn’t grab for sharp objects,
I just wrote about it.
I never knew
I wanted to be a writer
until I lost something.
I still don’t know what that is-
(my mind, maybe.)
they fill gaps
that had no stories
to keep them
from hollowing out
in the first place.