They say beauty is only skin deep,so hand over that defected scalpel in your bloodless hands
and watch carefully as I peel away this tainted skin
to make way for my blackened and corrupted
And everyone can finally see
the grotesque monster that lies deep within
this soiled excuse they seem to enjoy calling
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?
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
GlacialJanuary wolves stalk her shivering heart;Glacial2 years 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.
.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 nightAbsence2 years 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."
-My mind-2 years 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.
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
24 Hoursi.24 Hours2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Dreams will slowly fade
as dawn breaks through the windows;
morning’s here again.
Stomachs growl and groan
as smells from the kitchen waft;
afternoon is here.
Dusk paints a red sky,
the sun retires for the night;
evening shall bring peace.
The stars and moon dance,
a waltz of shining passion;
night has come at last.
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.
Poetry is:Poetry is:Poetry is:2 years 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.
Loneliness:a limbless spider entangled inLoneliness:2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
its own web,
writhing and awaiting to
only to be devoured by the fly.
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
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.'
Ode to BrasOh bra, dear bra,Ode to Bras2 years 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 to play.
Oh bra, dear bra,
I wish it this truth to not be so.
If only you were reasonable
and rid us of our feminine woe.
Unheard of and undefinedSometimes,Unheard of and undefined1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I have this sudden impulse to
bite off my tongue.
It wasn't made for
pretty words and kept promises
in the first place.
Back to back and
straight on til daybreak,
our soliloquy seems never ending.
When was the last time
you remembered to cry for all the broken hearts
that were not your own?
Ways to conquer heartbreakDance with fistfuls of roses, shred their petals one by one and wear their thorns like armor.Ways to conquer heartbreak2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Write your secrets between the folds of paper cranes and tuck them safely between the empty spaces of your castle ribs.
Open your broken heart to hummingbirds, allow them the warmth and shelter of your arms.
Rebel. Tape poetry to your limbs, Cummings and Sandburg and Sexton.
Take a walk outside of your skin for a while, run with wolves.
Extinguish that forest fire that’s been curling too long in your lungs.
Be that lionhearted girl those snobby poets always write about.
Allow that cavern of stars in your throat to speak your truths in uppercase letters, in free verse yet to be proofread.
Write about wars and victory.
Be the hero.
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.]
are my words poetic enough for you?maybe not.are my words poetic enough for you?2 years 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.
On rainy days...I look out the window and see the liquid dropsOn rainy days...2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I hear the soothing sounds that calms my thoughts
It helps my feather heart to keep its strength
As long I keep my conscious clear my faith won’t go away
Because these are the days when I wonder the most
About my life choices and all I ever hope
The rain keeps my sanity from being overthrown
By anything troublesome and keep a peaceful tone
Open Heart SurgeryI've got ink throbbing through fissured veins,Open Heart Surgery2 years 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."
That Girl In The MirrorHappiness will remain forever out of reachThat Girl In The Mirror2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When love from your life you omit
To the girl in the mirror; you are beautiful
Yet somehow you never quite fit
Not the girl they thought you’d turn out to be
When you were a neonate child
Born with a raging heart and a raging mind
But with a manner ever so mild
Your scars aren’t always visible to them
And not only hidden under attire
Lacerations to the mind are just as abhorrent
When memories and dreams conspire
So girl break the mirror if you have to
And reflect on your life as a whole
Do you really want to spend the rest of your days
Behind a façade of self control?
Please be strong enough to go your own way
Indeed go against the grain
In your field of dreams stand up and be counted
And maybe others will do the same
You are unique and you are so beautiful
You’re everything someone else is not
The light of your reflection will shine on
Through the looking glass your childhood begot
HushHis eyes are the first thing she sees.Hush1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
They are red. A bloody crimson, glowing like hellfire in the middle of the dark mass that is he has materialized in, beckoning her closer.
She steps forward, uncertainty trembling on her lips as she reaches out a hand, fingers curling in on each other. The question tumbles forth easily: "Who are you?"
He smiles, his mouth the only other thing visible in an otherwise utterly black figure. "Anyone who you wish me to be. You merely need to give me the orders, and I shall obey."
His voice is otherworldly. It is as if a shadow had learned to speak - silky, smooth, dark and dangerous. She shivers at the sound of it, resisting the urge to hold herself as a chill settles into her very bones. His smile is that of a crescent moon, an upwards curve of a smirk as he watches her like a wolf observing a lamb. "Well, girl? What say you? You did summon me, did you not?"
The girl looks down at her hands. They are forever soiled, though it is invisible, and
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.