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.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..3 months ago in Emotional More Like This
Nothing.
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, n
They say beauty is only skin deep,so hand over that defected scalpel in your bloodless handsThey say beauty is only skin deep,3 months 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
insides.
And everyone can finally see
the grotesque monster that lies deep within
this soiled excuse they seem to enjoy calling
a heart.
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?
GlacialJanuary wolves stalk her shivering heart;Glacial3 months 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.
Freedom.
Into the PlungeBuild me a sandcastle on the edge of the sea,Into the Plunge4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
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.
D
r
o
-My mind-3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
just can't
seem to
s h u t u p.
Too many "fuck you's"
that morph into
"I'm sorry's"
drip off this
dagger-tongue
like acid.
Monster.
Grotesque.
Liar.
Erratic.
Try and make it better. Fail. Try again. Break down.
So many faults
that seem to just
turn me into someone
I'm not.
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
better
and become one again.
"I want to hate you."
"But I can't."
"So I hate me instead."
"But
lost.Wandering,lost.3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
waiting for your voice to
reach out for mine.
Fingertips of satin,
caressing the confines of my
soul;
whispering a thousand constellations to my waning sanity.
Promises upon promises,
mosaic labyrinths etched into mutilated
flesh.
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
pieces.
Rose eyelashes; iron thorns and liquid petals
flutter open to the dull luster of our
salt-licked sarcophagus—
and in the end, your nebula fades away
in the disintegrating morning, just like my [heart] broken
heart.
Poetry is:Poetry is:Poetry is:3 months 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
a
l
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.
24 Hoursi.24 Hours4 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Dreams will slowly fade
as dawn breaks through the windows;
morning’s here again.
ii.
Stomachs growl and groan
as smells from the kitchen waft;
afternoon is here.
iii.
Dusk paints a red sky,
the sun retires for the night;
evening shall bring peace.
iv.
The stars and moon dance,
a waltz of shining passion;
night has come at last.
For YouYour heart may bleed diamonds,For You4 months 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
“imaginary”
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
AbsenceShe used to lie awake all nightAbsence1 month 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."
NecromancyI wanted to see what makes a human heartNecromancy3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
beat,
so I took a scimitar and ripped apart your decrepit
flesh,
and inside that primordial ribcage I found nothing but
corruption.
And you merely gave a cruel parody of a
smile,
dug your bloodstained claws into your
chest,
and tore out that infestation you called a
soul.
"Analyze that well, my little necromancer," you
sneered,
fangs dripping with the acid I once begged to
taste,
"Perhaps you'll be as wise as me once you find the
pulse."
I could only watch as you sunk back down into
Hell,
clutching that contaminated Philosopher's Stone
hazardously,
knowing you had replaced my heart with the pois
WhisperI want to create an aromatic sea of jasminesWhisper4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and stardust mountains of silver and —
No.
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
gods
and
chaos.
Her Aesthetic CrusadeShe paints a world of crimson midnight,Her Aesthetic Crusade5 months 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?"
skinwalkershe was a vicious prion,skinwalker3 weeks ago in Free Verse More Like This
anomalous & infectious—
my fractured mind was the
perfectly unsuspecting host.
i was so ashamed of life
& you had all the answers.
"don't let me go,"
she hissed each night,
coating my flesh in a
despondent cancer.
(it was just too damn easy
to grasp your viral hands.)
i know my ribcage is almost on empty
& my heart is converting to toxic waste,
but i still have a feverish serum in my veins
& a voice not yet conquered by broken bones.
your plague of malevolence
shall never govern me again.
Storybook EndingHer ink-stained lips have kissed too many a forgotten page,Storybook Ending3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
[dragon's blood
and phoenix down]
And her Prince Charming has yet to come,
[glass slippers
shattering like stars]
So all she can do is gaze out her tower window,
[enchanted forests
concealing poisoned apples]
Clutch that corroded and timeworn blade,
[cursed beasts
tearing down castle walls]
Toss her childhood fables to the waltzing of the moon,
Loneliness:a limbless spider entangled inLoneliness:2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
its own web,
writhing and awaiting to
break free—
only to be devoured by the fly.
are my words poetic enough for you?maybe not.are my words poetic enough for you?1 month 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.
if only.
Howling For TreacheryI wish I could liveHowling For Treachery1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
on nothing but air;
killing the hunger
to consume every
improvised lie.
(Maybe all along,
I've been the wolf in
sheep's clothing.)
Why is it that when
I exercise my own
feeble infallibility,
these fangs just
continue to hone
on fraudulence?
(It's too painful
to continue howling
at this contorted reflection.)
Yet every time
I take an ax to
exterminate the
counterfeit beast,
its claws just leave
another patch of
scars on the inside
of my skin to remind
me just what I am.
(The girl who cried wolf
AquariusShe is the winter's heartAquarius1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
and a January zephyr—
amethyst ankles frozen in time.
(eleven stars circulate her glacial ribs)
Forever shin-deep in the seas of
a conformed humanity,
she shall always sanctify the stains.
A Scholarly MasqueradeSometimes I like to pretend,A Scholarly Masquerade5 months 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.
The Fool and the Cynic"He's so sweet and amazing, I'm sure we're meant to be!"The Fool and the Cynic4 months 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
bioluminescence.Your skin is of paper mache andbioluminescence.5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
stardust, so fragile and coruscating
as I reach out desperately to grasp that
supernova you call a heart;
please, don't etiolate in their sunrise
and leave me marooned in life's black abyss...
I can't survive without your—
Ode to BrasOh bra, dear bra,Ode to Bras3 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
such close friends we are.
Never straying by my side,
never going far.
But bra, dear bra,
I must confess it this day:
At times you can be painful,
and my skin tends to flay.
Oh bra, dear bra,
why must you be so conflicting?
Meant to hold up females modestly,
yet force us into awkward itching.
So bra, dear bra,
I am afraid I must ask:
For being such a wondrous garment,
why must you be such an ass?
Oh bra, dear bra,
so tenacious around our chests.
Would it kill your rigid fabric
to alleviate our suffering breasts?
Yes bra, dear bra,
I mean my words today.
Kindly stop your aches and pains
or a dirty game I'll be forced t
A Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji LimerickThe butler had decided enough was enough.A Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji Limerick4 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
His master’s manners were not up to snuff.
He resisted the urge to call the boy a brat,
for he was not allowed to keep his delightful cat.
Being a a child's manservant was certainly tough.
Sta.sh
