| Deviant Login | Shop | Join deviantART for FREE  |
Take the Tour  |
starsi pray that someday soon, in a lonesome winter, your bones will cease to ache.stars4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
regrets will no longer break your morals like glass figurines,
you will not ask God to pardon your sins.
you will forgive yourself.
i hope, for your sake, that your butterfly-flutter eyes
will only be dampened with tears worthy of shedding.
your glory will shine out of those 2 crystal windows
and you will finally know what freedom feels like.
one day, in the midst of a dreary december, i wish for your wings to open wide
and carry you to heights far past any you have ever experienced.
your lungs will become blooming forests
with snippets of poetry carved into
truthsi.truths3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
there are 2 things that not even the most
forceful of rains can cleanse me of:
-memories
-mistakes
ii.
sometimes, i feel like a caged lion.
only with a lot more impatience
and a lot less resilience.
iii.
i have yet to discover what it means to be content.
i am either too stagnant or too fluid.
no middle ground.
iv.
i have mastered the art of leaving.
it's the idea of moving on that still haunts me.
v.
i fear that the light in my eyes is so dim that it will burn out
before even i have a chance to see the world with it.
vi.
i am not as clever as i pretend to be.
vii.
someone needs to teach me that
i don't need reassurance; i
scarsthey caught my eye when he passed me a pile of papers.scars10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
i stared not too long & not too hard because i knew.
i asked are those scars? and he said yeah, did a little
laugh along with it. shame wouldn't let me look him in
the eye but i could see his eyes because see, i play
violin and that trains your peripheral vision. i said
sorry, don't know what for but i felt ashamed for point-
ing out flaws, he wasn't flaunting those scars but he
didn't do much to hide them either. i said sorry for not
stopping it, even though those razor blade lines adjacent
to the floor boards are old, they still hurt to look at
& they hurt to make. he said i
aquaticsi am trying not to let you flood my insides; no such luck.aquatics6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
we are 2 separate rafts on opposite sides of the sea that
share the same fleet and no matter how hard we try to
find each other in the depths of these waters, the waves
just drift us apart.
(you are in everything you belong with me everywhere you
are my everything you have my everything - i gave you it all -
you are everything)
my fingers are numb,
my God they are fucking numb with(out) you
and they ache.
i am aching all over, my fingers are pains, i am aching all over.
i am an a-c-h-e. my head, it pounds with memories and fantasies
and replays the time you laced y
wastelandthe difference between alone & lonelywasteland3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
was one of them needed me.
i recluded back into the embrace
of someone who didn't deserve to
trace the wings in my lungs into
butterflies, all because of my
selfish desire for solace.
see, i am not practiced
in the art of loneliness.
or maybe i've wrecked enough
solitary canvases to stretch
me all the way back to the
fallen leaves of last october
when his arms constricted my mid-
section; a noose for my stomach.
i wanted to forget
how it felt
to be left.
so i let him stroke my shoulders
in an attempt to rebirth necessity.
september's winds brought
whiplash & slick hands.
he snaked in between
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,
02. nomad, nomadi set my good intentions down02. nomad, nomad2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
for an impossible duration to
make myself sleep sounder.
i strip myself naked & rough;
my frail convictions flow out
the window,
scattering themselves
like acid rain droplets
on the sill.
and i am not a breeze, but a sharp gust -
wind blown into an envelope like a
29-cent secret never meant to be kept
caged-in
and you were not a mistake, but
destroyed yourself before
i was given the chance
to undoubtedly do the same.
what does it mean to lie in someone's wake?
to be in the ever-presence of another human,
to feel breath short and isolated against an empty chest?
you showed me patience,
but never how to
the living roomyour voice echoes through the cracks in the walls.the living room4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
you whisper secrets into the cove of my ear, i hear you curse God.
why does the greater lion always have the tamer mane?
how do i chip away the paint from my wrists to open up my scars again?
peel away my skin like a velvet curtain.
my living room heart sports dust on all its furniture.
take a seat on my will power, wipe your feet on my good intentions.
would you like a warm cup of boiled tears?
i am here to please you.
please continue to mutter those secrets under your breath,
my scars are far past healing.
the pots & pans in the kitchen cupboards are rather rusty.
i won't bother to re
ashthe first time i looked into your eyesash3 weeks ago in Free Verse More Like This
was one year after meeting you.
my toes barely dipped into the pond
of blue before i realized there wasn't
much to swim to.
i fooled myself long ago into thinking that
if i was ever brave enough, i could plunge
into your endless depths and bathe in purity.
soak up your little-boy grins and weave laughter
with you, creating the most infinite soundtrack.
but when our irises finally connected,
i felt the make-believe ropes i had looped
through your fingers snap like convictions
too heavy to maintain.
it was the first time in a while
that i had a name for the reason
i was broken.
i shook in a rhythm
confessionalthey say sad girls change their hair colorconfessional4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and forgive their monsters.
i change my morals
and become one.
Snow White SyndromeI seem to have forgotten the sound of my own heartbeatSnow White Syndrome3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Splitting apart my limbs I've found the source of my insanity
Coiled around veins and arteries
Star dust and a lazy man’s drug
Has put me to sleep under fictitious pretenses
Of forbidden apples and two faced prince charming’s
swimming in spacelet's ask the stars to build us a castle so we can rest our shouldersswimming in space4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
like royalty - put the weight of all these words down for a few millennia
and just breathe.
our lungs could use a few hits of truth to open themselves up
to the calming hymns of the heavens; breaking ourselves apart
shouldn't be too difficult.
(our wrists mean war - forests of insecurities & impatience)
wait a few more months for distance to build itself
a bridge between our arms,
ache like saturn is stretching its rings across your chest,
deeming you responsible for all the black holes and stray planets
enveloped in the universe.
i went swimming in your blood str
October EyesSuch gentle colors drip across your freckled shoulder blades.October Eyes7 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A quilt of puddled watercolors soaked in auburn shades.
Spun of golden rivulets and rinsed in autumn skies,
So many endless currents swimming through your lonesome eyes.
Brushing under fingertips and over shattered songs,
Unraveling like morning glaze against my paling palms.
With beauty like October hills and hollow as the skies,
The water drops against the earth will be our lullaby.
You're Not?You're anorexic if you're thinYou're Not?3 months 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.
You're not?
Then you must be perfect.
Drip, Drop, Drip"Drip, Drop, Drip"Drip, Drop, Drip3 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I felt a warm feeling run down my arm
But truth behold the pain was gone
I saw blood dripping on the floor
I watched it drip and drip some more
How it happened; I don't know
But the drip was dripping slow
It might have seemed like such a bore
But I watched it drip some more
I watched the blood leave a trail
Down the drawer and on the mail
The trail now leaked under doors
Drip by drip, it dripped some more
The noise it made was pitter-patter
On the tiles spilt and splattered
To clean this up is such a chore
So I watched it drip some more
My head tilted and pictured eyes
Eyes like mine so young and wise
Disgusted by this
Missing Pieces.I am a missing piece. Something that someone needs.Missing Pieces.3 months ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
But at the same time, I feel so incomplete.
I’ve wandered way too far, wondered for far too long
Am I a missing piece? Or a piece that won’t belong?
Is it possible I’m damaged and not missing at all?
That I’m just as dysfunctional as everybody else?
Pretending to be perfect never softened a single fall.
But neither did admitting that you’re broken and flawed.
A broken missing piece. Is that all I’m meant to be?
There is no master plan that includes the likes of me.
Being all alone, it’s a hurt that will not cease.
A hundred thousand years from now
the untold story of a vietnam veteran once the bullets started firing, the averagethe untold story of a vietnam veteran3 weeks ago in Free Verse More Like This
life expectancy of an American soldier in
the midst of the vietnam war was 32 seconds.
***
4.
the soil will be decorated with blood of
bodies decorated with badges of honor
-ing the fallen is easier implied than done
when it comes to bone-picking.
11.
thoughts tingle through fingertips.
grab. go.
point. shoot. miss.
point. shoot. hit.
go. go. go.
entrenched are civilians, this is a war for politics.
poles, the only incentive.
licking the underside of bayonets clean.
15.
thousands of Viet Cong's bones are canes
for the American soldiers who dislocated
hips along with convictions.
th
admittance is defeatthey called you beautifuladmittance is defeat6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
with porcelain eyes about to crack
and cigarette skin crumbling
away, a knotted spine and
jagged smile:
you were never gracious.
you're slipping underneath, this
virulent smog masks a paper sky that
never allowed a dream and
you're afraid because it's soaking in
your pores again, unattainable and unoriginal;
the meaning of life never meant enough-
you were never hopeful.
there's a getaway map on the underside
of your pillow, and a lifetime of secrets
on the underside of your bones
you're a walking travesty:
your chest ticks, dull
your wrist beats, dying
time is keeping you but
you were never pa
Crayon SoulmatesDear Stars,Crayon Soulmates6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I have a bone to pick with you. You see, when I was six, I called myself the nowhere girl... and I coloured myself a soulmate. I made him on crumpled sheets, with broken pieces of crayon, on a playground that was too busy wondering whether growing up entailed stealing your mother's cigarettes and your father's dirty magazines (I suppose I was already wise enough to know that growing up meant choosing one of the many ways of breaking yourself in two.)
I hope you remember him, stars...he was important to me (My mother threw that drawing away on my seventh birthday and told me that girls are not supposed to have such dreams.).
He
both of us.i couldn't keep a hold of you whenboth of us.8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
you were there in front of me
and i can't keep a hold of the wisps of smoke that
you try and choke my heart with
and even though i've spent too many wasted
hours trying to throttle a ghost
you still make me smile in between
me creative my own personal fucking ocean
UntitledIt is midnight and on a coast somewhere past my typical safe zone, I leave my bones like trails to get back to something at least half-whole. Each breath feels like an icicle, hanging off my lungs like a parasite, feeding itself, consuming itself. I try to tell someone that this is not as painful as it is when one does not deserve it. But who wanders a threatened tide when they seek solace?Untitled5 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i think i felt one of the icicles drop, and melt in the middle of my insides, leaving my stomach not quite warm, but not quite cold. i am lukewarm and wishing that just for once i could be whole, a complete something rather than stuck in this middle ground of almost, but never quite. but i deserve it. i deserve it and that makes it okay i guess.
I think of all the hearts I wanted to caress, the cheeks that touched my temples and the smoke that filled my lungs after they left another's. My feet kick a shell and I feel it break against my skin like a fortune cookie. But tonight the ink has
Don't Pick Me!"Don't Pick Me!"Don't Pick Me!4 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I remember sitting in the back of class
Whether it was english, history, science, or math
Staring at the clock; waiting to be free
Praying to God the teacher wouldn't pick me
Funny thing is; it's not like I wasn't prepared
I had most of the answers; though the teacher wasn't aware
But when I would raise my hand to answer a question
The teacher ignored me; never looked in my direction
This bugged me to absolutely no end
How could she pretend that I didn't understand
I'd keep my hand raised for what felt like days
But she'd call on a friend to much of my dismay
But what bugged me more; what I couldn't believe
When I didn't
royal mistakeyour bones speak a language my tongue hasn't learned yet.royal mistake6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
they are bitter, from crown to toe-curls; you are bitter and
bent out of shape. you are no royalty, just a common man
building his wall of bricks but you pedestalize yourself
amongst the highest of crowds; the dieties and Gods watch
as you adorn yourself in ill-gotten robes of shimmering gold.
the angels observe in understandable offense as you remove
the cloak of vulnerability and the past, replace it with diamond
studs and p(r)etty fluff as if your children are an audience.
you have become a skeleton in your 50 years, you have become
a skeleton. a dismantled pile of fle
tomorrow's just another dayswallow the stagnant blood drippingtomorrow's just another day10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
from the gore of your cheek
gnawed open by dull teeth
gnashing around yawning gums
and heavy throats.
let it gush down to the basement
of your body, where it floats and rots
and leaks into your tinted lifeline of water.
dehydrate, deflate. a personal poison
as your veins unfurl and waywardly curl
upright to pick the locks buried somewhere
between your pores.
you remember trying to open yourself,
letting light lovingly tingle the dark wet,
but it only ended in angry waves of red & pink
turning brown as the sun folded up behind your curtains.
you remember the nakedness of scars
lookin
Sta.sh
