Where the monsters do dwellI once was afraid of the monsters in my closetWhere the monsters do dwell2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And of the ghouls under my bed
But even they do quake in fear of those that reside inside my head.
Sticks And StonesSticks And Stones2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sticks and Stones
Sticks and stones will break my bones,
But words will slowly kill me
Hurricanes will break my home,
But storms will never kill me
Death is not an experience,
we can wait for in life*
Guns will be the death of me,
If I pull the trigger
Cuts from Knives will make me bleed,
But bandages will heal them
Emotions though can cut deeper,
Hearts will never heal.
Bombs will shatter my city,
love will shatter life
Hate will destroy this world,
Friends the only shelter **
The world will be left broken,
My words will describe it
Feedback is appreciated
But only if you want to
cyclical decay.an apple falls and hits the headcyclical decay.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of a seamstress in a straight jacket
who ties her knots a bit too tightly
and can't crawl out of her own skin, but
she smiles like a jackal and plays games
with the school children in the garden
that visit her when class is over. they
bring her wood and coals so she can
set herself on fire when the moon comes
to scold her in the night. by dawn, she
is ashes and loose threads, but has just
enough time to repair herself by noon.
unarticulatedtonight I ask myself:unarticulated1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
where are you going with all these names
in your pockets? syllables that taste
unauthentic in the desperate American
repression is a series of images
earthbound angels breathing
flame, starving hands speaking
in tongues, glazed eyes
asking are you fucking okay
pale skin becoming moonlight,
reflecting and refracting and
the quiet understatement
what I forgot to sayto the girl who lives like a hurricane:what I forgot to say2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
don’t expect to tell me about
your addiction to self-harm and
Nyquil and have me smile;
although, as I shiver from lakewater
and things less tangible, I seem to
acquire a talent for glossing over the list
of things I need to tell you--
is an asshole. California does not
begin and end in a tiny town where
people operate like clockwork around
the same happy working song. I am not
a fountain of wisdom, and, to be honest,
I can barely understand you over the
thunderstorms in my own brain.
you are beautiful and you are
to the girl I left back in time:
purpose is not a given. I am
the same teenage angst who used
to wear too much eyeliner and
complain about my future
as I’d foretold it-- loveless and whiny,
like me. I am her plus a few more
self destructions and minus
a lot more days to continue striving
alongside you for simple goals and
simple friends and simple memories
I won’t remember.
to the girl who see
What happened?I am from a century I wish to escapeWhat happened?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Justin Bieber, One Direction, and YOLO swag
Where if you are intelligent, you’re strange
But cool if your pants sag
Can anyone explain that to me?
I am from boy bands, but I listen to rock
Sparkly pink, neon skinny jeans
How do I stand out in all black?
Everyone else looks the same to me
This generation is way out of whack
I am from lol, rofl, and omg
Srsly wht if we rlly talkd like this?
Where has English gone?
Surely this is not the same thing
Shakespeare must be rolling in his grave
I am from the 21st century
Where intelligence is neglected
Boy bands are worshiped
And there is no music on MTV
And how can we fix it?
Shy Kid Poem Shy Kid PoemShy Kid Poem2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Ever wonder about that one shy kid in your class?
They mute their thoughts from being spoken in public
but in reality they just want someone to understand them,
someone who can relate to their problems and struggles.
Well chances are that shy kid has a low level of confiedence.
They walk in the hallways alone or with a very few amount of friends,
their heads are down like it's hopeless looking for someone they can trust
with their heart and soul.
Or perhasps it's just that they believe they are always isolated from society.
Shy people are usually known just to get the task done, but we're
more than just a bunch of pe
Voice“She’s so quiet. Does she have a voice?”Voice2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
“Speak for yourself. Don’t make me do your talking.”
“You must not be very smart if you can’t talk.”
“She thinks she’s so high and mighty, she won’t even deign to speak to us.”
Sticks and stones
Compared to words
Flung with intent to maim
Each is a blow
Shattering my ribs
Bruising my eyes
And keeping me
“I heard she’s emo or something. She’s probably thinking about how best to kill herself.”
“Don’t be stupid. She’s not thinking at all.”
Assumptions and presumptions
But never enough gumption
To ask me myself—
It all ends in abruption
Worst of all
Is when not one punch
Is thrown at me at all
I’m an apparition, a wraith, a specter
“Don’t talk to her. Just ignore her.”
in which I gain sentiencesave roomin which I gain sentience1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
for doubt, in the silence between
religious guilt and stolen
body heat. I am made of helium.
in my dreams they
pop me and
watch me flutter. I wonder if everyone
else’s head is so congested as mine,
hyperactive with inattentive people.
you are never serious--
he stares at me in a different
set of eyes; there are words
I cannot say, there are
things I cannot tell you.
(twice a week
I watch the people I love
leave me for good.
spiders in my throat,
excuses for why I'm shakingwe live in a world of apologies.excuses for why I'm shaking2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I made a mistake a year back,
choosing my addiction to oxygen
over less demanding things.
I’m sick of trembling for problems
that aren’t mine and I’m sick of trying
to romanticize black holes and
the indiscriminate nature of lithium and
I’m sick of waking up every morning
feeling sick. and truly, I’m sorry
but I’m not ready to accept my role
in the making of myself. I’m not ready
to lament for those with a smaller
pain tolerance, and for my dislike
of anything that requires commitment.
I’m sorry I miss you and I’m sorry
I won’t admit that out loud.
how scary is it to be something
so unalterably heavy, to be diagnosed
as your own worst enemy, but god,
you’re so fucking beautiful,
and not in the stereotypical boy
meets girl meets fairytale way, but
the kind that makes my heart
bleed a million miles quicker.
I just wanted to cry on all
your scars and wash them clean.
when things are bad for
accidental exposurenewton’s laws neveraccidental exposure1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
applied to you. maybe
tomorrow won’t come, and
we will always be a
few gestures short of
you are that glint
on the edge of the
flirtation of a star, of
a wish whispered
into skin that
cannot listen. I
traced so many apologies into
your spine; Dear Amy, my
body is an empty bookshelf
and I’m sorry I couldn’t
give you a perfect ending.
Dear Amy, you are more than
the hands that hollowed you
and made you quiet. Dear Amy,
stunted emotional development
is a blessing but I’m so scared I’ll
hurt you I’m so scared I care
about you, you’re the first person
who didn’t want me selfishly,
the first person to make
there are so many shades
of blue in your eyes
I can’t capture; so many
poems caught in your
hair. I dreamt about you
every night this week;
I was the monster hiding
under your bed.
adulthoodwhen you interact with other grown-ups,adulthood2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
there are things you need to remember.
i am learning the fine art of Adult Small Talk-
banter for banter's sake and smiles and short, impersonal anecdotes
because you can't risk letting anyone in,
god forbid someone actually gets close.
you keep your friends in your stomach and swallow them at night to keep them close
and put your cheery face on for medical professionals even when your throat is too swollen
to drink down those friends.
those friends, you know they'll never let you down.
you see your human companions on lunch breaks and weekend days.
at night, young adults have sex and fall asleep together;
at night, older adults complain of headaches and sleep on opposite sides of the bed.
your human friends don't make you feel as good
as your other friends make you feel.
they ask about your life and how you're doing,
ask if you're still in therapy and if you're eating,
and god forbid you let them in.
they're your human friends but they don't get