They all think they can fix meThey all think they can fix me.They all think they can fix me3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But, what if I'm not broken?
I'm supposed to be in pieces?
What rule is there,
that says all people must be whole?
But still, they all think they can fix me.
With a sensual caress
or a wholesome home-life
or violent, unbridled passion.
Each has her own prescription.
I'll push away every hand
Each distraction is only that:
just a numbing anaesthesia
that can only mask the symptoms,
leaving the cancer
They all think they can fix me
but I know better –
and I've a feeling that now
even the cure would
a state of delirium.It's like you're hungry for something that doesn't exist in your head. Your own eyes cannot see past the reflection of your memories. The strength and determination that held you in their grip long enough are setting you free so you're nothing but a fragile creature, drowning in an endless ocean of blackness. You reach for the surface but you're being pulled down even deeper. Deeper till the light is dark enough for you to see past the distant once-colorful orbs that hover over your head. You scream, but nothing comes out. The silence terrifies you so you only convince yourself you're dreaming. An endless bad dream. You close your eyes and ask yourself to wake up. Everything is silent and for a moment you assume it's all back to normal, that you're safe again, so, you open your eyes to realize that you're sinking deeper. Drowning farther in, but you had your eyes closed for a while and it all went by too fast for it to register in your head. Blind. You reach out but you're paralyzed, ya state of delirium.5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Semi-Detached.Semi-Detached.Semi-Detached.3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
She was very sensitive.
As if the volume was turned up in her head.
She started using her mother’s sedatives,
As a solution for her sleepless nights in bed.
She couldn’t connect with any of her relatives,
They never showed an interest in anything she said.
Her attempts at socialising were tentative,
So she conjured up imaginary friends instead.
Her dogged detachment was her only imperative.
She could not risk the chance of being misled.
There was no one to peel back the layer of negatives.
Too many years of tears have been bred and shed.
The smile she occasionally displayed was purely decorative.
She knows people will judge her before they have even read
Her story because they’re too caught up in their own narrative.
They only take the time to read your book once you are dead.
They say we’re born alone and die alone.
As humans we are built to survive and consume.
Even if you are raised from a loving home.
You can still feel out of place in your ow
DespotismDespotismDespotism2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she is a bird sitting, teetering on
a power line because
one way or another, she figures
the best way to end
is a big bang.
He is a fish swimming, traversing along,
Against the crashing tide because
He figures he can defy the law one or way or another,
And the best way to begin
Is to finish the end
Before he's stuck in her talons.
though she is made of feathers
and bones and she is still weightless enough
to take to the currents of air,
she is powerless
against the waves his actions
make, and she is so easily swept away that
she thinks her body might as well
be made of stones.
He could tell she was astounded by his ocean,
By the place he calls home to.
He welcomed her to the lowest depths of it,
She couldn't resist the deepest blue of the marine,
Nor the glitter of his fishscale,
And the place he called heaven,
Eventually became this bird's hell.
her eyes were always the
size of jupiter when he was around
because she was fascinated with
the way he move
A lion among sheep.There are ghosts in my bloodstreamA lion among sheep.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
kissing concrete cells &
the bedroom eyes of nerve endings.
( foreign words
engraved into my marrow, birds in my chest
& wars not yet fought between my hips. )
I've taken myself apart every night
since I learned how to swallow a pen
limb by steady limb.
Passed around by grabby hands,
a sold, & borrowed daughter;
I am a lion among sheep,
drunk on life & ink.
FlawsI could write you a symphonyFlaws5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of whispered words and perfect promises
but I'd rather just hum you a melody,
perhaps out of key,
off the top of my head
composed of all the things I've never said
all the thoughts I've never voiced
every word would be so choice
because it would come straight from the heart of every matter
from the very soul of me
traced around every piece of my shattered spirit
built of every time I refused to hear it
[it respectively being the part of me I chose to hate,
the deepest darks, the secrets stark
the ugly truth I berat
I WantI want toI Want3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Dance the night away
Holding you in my arms
To feel your heart beating next to mine
As our bodies sway
To a rhythm only we can hear
I want to
Feel loved by you
To have that warm glow surround me
And flow through my veins
I want to
Be able to love you in return
To have my every thought
Fixed only upon you
I want to
Live my life
With you at my side
As a friend or a lover
It matters not
As long as you are there
I want to
Dream of us on hills of verdant green
As we sit by babbling brooks that sing natures song
And wander over lonely moors covered in heather
I want to
Kiss your lips so tenderly
I want to
Hold you close never to let go
I want to
Grow old alongside you
I want to
Be remembered when the days are long
And I am but a distant memory
I want to
Make your world a better place
As I share my inner most desires
But most of all
You to know that you are loved
Anatomy of a DeadgirlMy skeleton is a barbed wire framework glossed over with spun glass and glitter-glue stars.Anatomy of a Deadgirl6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My skin is melted magma, sizzling upon contact and twisting in imperfections and pimples and moles.
My blood is poisoned snake's venom, thick black sludge that is retracted slowly by a razor's gnawing gore, withdrawn from a well deep within my soul.
My organs are burbling instruments, bubbling a glutinous rhythm.
My hands are hole-filled gloves sewn on to stubby, chubby stumps of arms.
My ribcage is a birdcage, trapping the anxiously fluttering butterfly that is trapped within my heart and desire.
My tongue is sandpaper, smoothing my words to no more than sawdust, falling limply to the floor in a kind of morose rain.
My brain is dust- and muck-filled [cobwebs stretched across those cells that change the mood], monster occupied, and afraid to think.
My eyes oscillate, glazed over with clouds and nightmares an
Keeping a SecretKeeping a SecretKeeping a Secret3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I cross my heart and hope to die,
If I ever tell you a lie.
Then why am I not dead?
I know I am in my head.
If I told you what I see,
You would never forgive me.
'Truth' is such an important word.
It can cage you up like a bird.
Or let you soar and be free.
It's only now that I see
That you never loved me.
You think I'm full of glee
But I will never let you know
That I am putting on a show.
I'm Not OkayThis is a factI'm Not Okay5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
That much I know
It wont ever change
No matter how much I grow
I wont deny it
I'm not ashamed
No matter how old I get
It wont subside
I know this well
Many have tried
And yet, they still failed
I just happen to love
This unofficial title
In which I speak of ^.^
VoicesSo...What are you doing?Voices3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
...writing, drawing...well...it's more of a doodle...
No! You're wasting time! You're already failing!
...66% isn't a fail...
75% or better! That's all I ask for!
...it's only the start of the year...
It's November! All you're doing is pracing about, and being weird! You don't have friends, good grades, or even read anymore! What's wrong with you!?
...thanks for reminding me...
Just...Be normal. That's all I want, alright?
Normal. Wear colours, stop cutting your hair short, wear make-up and dresses and skirts, hell, just be a girl!
...girl's are prissy, and bitchy, and whine...
You have the parts! Now be what you are. And get your grades up!
[it's not her fault she's stupid]
[well it's true]
...doesn't mean you have to tell me...
Don't worry he's pointing out what's wrong with you. You should pay attention so you can correct it later.
...nothing's wrong with me?...
[let's make a list, shall we? You're fat, u
Pieces Of My SoulSure I might cry a littlePieces Of My Soul3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And there are times when I feel so alone
In the worst of ways
Still I wander ever on
Over imagined hill and vale
Not knowing fully where I go
Each and every faltering step
Leading to somewhere and something new
I am nothing to speak of
Just a poet and an artist
A dreamer forever wondering
Following a path that only I can see
As I listen to the music of life
Never do I sleep
For my mind is a torrent of ideas
They always come
Never do they cease
My heart and soul are a melange of emotions
I'm drowning in the maelstrom they conjure
These raw passions force me ever onwards
Like a man possessed
I must create something
This is what drives me
At times to the very edge of madness
Blinded by things I cannot control
Ideas pour forth
My emotions breathed into life
Until I am spent
Then I rest for a while
Looking at what I've done
And for the first time
I read the words my pen has written
Or let my vision fill with what I've painted
Only then do I feel truly aliv
i am a magenta february.Winteri am a magenta february.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is still clinging
to my skin,
sleeping within the tangles
of my night witch hair.
65 days to learn
& Icarus, with his
sun kissed fingers
my throat, giggles
knowingly in my ear.
I have misplaced my
of a heart
so many times,
I’m not even sure
it ever existed
they never lie-
Covered in frost
I am a magenta
the imprint of teeth
that bruised centuries
& bed sheets.
A RiddleA Riddle3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am as black as the night I hate to be near
Like a child, Darkness is my only fear
I hate the sun, A twisting ball of light
but without it, I would never have life.
NostalgiaCome along with meNostalgia3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
To the happiest of times
So much joy to see
Forget all your crimes
Playtime as a child
The butterflies of first love
Lovers touch so mild
Fly free like a dove
But I cannot stay here
I fear I must depart
For I am merely a puppeteer
And the puppet is your heart
had I wished for sight.My wish-on-me star,had I wished for sight.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
whose ears I filled to secret’s brim,
whose implosions I hemmed
still layers deeper:
I’m sorry I wore stitches
and scabs with try-agains.
You sacrificed paper dreams,
Crumpling and sending airplane
answers until my skies were
Apologies have sweetened
on tight-pressed lips—
a thick and sultry wine—
but you’re now constellating
apparitions, in city skyscapes;
and my vocal chords
are coarse sand
Falling for an introvert (is hard on the knees)i. People tell me you are quiet, that you don’t say much. And when we meet, I realise they are right – you confine your tongue curled behind the curve of your teeth, treat words as if they are fish-hooks trailing up your throat. Instead, you learn to communicate in blinks, in glances and your cornflower eyes hold mine as if they are made of precious porcelain.Falling for an introvert (is hard on the knees)1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
You don’t believe me when I tell you that I’m glad I met you.
ii. In the silence, where my gaze wanders to the thin line of your mouth, the twitch of a restless muscle behind your cheeks, your own flicker back and forth, a Morse code of ‘I’m sorry’ as if you should be apologising for the lack on the end of the phone, the stretched quiet moments, the railway tracks scissored inside your throat that haven’t yet healed.
You don’t believe me when I tell you that you are interesting.
iii. Instead, I fill the gaps with sound, an endless waterfall of quick hands and senseless words.
If you're ever at the bottom of the sea...You cut me like a landscape, the kind with cresting hills, which rise into tsunamis.If you're ever at the bottom of the sea...2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
You disturbed me in a bump; something, about a boy, who sings his heart in damper peddles. But it was I who sustained this love, one melody, of life and pain rolled into mornings of stage lights and an incessant itch to crawl into the dark. I never knew I could find another person so shackled by the past. (I’m relieved and strangled.)
I miss you in those Everest waves, wishing your eyes would ghost over me just once in a ripple of remembrance. I wish I could bend these hills down to be like her plains, so you could walk in me, and hum, and touch the leaves of trees and not worry about where your soles step next. I can be better, but I cannot be her… though you grow tired, you say, and irritated, you say. I don’t think you even know what you want.
But... these valley-winds feel lovely, and the sight from jagged peaks just may be worth the heartache.
comets in my head againThere are bruises on my legs again.comets in my head again2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Maybe I tried too hard for the stars - struck hemispheres of dreaming too big - while I count one, two, three, four, five shiners on my legs, ten lookers on each arm (your jointed peals of rage) and, probably, forty-four on my heart – though it’s not like I ever counted the number of times you beat me down, before.
It never did matter if I was enough for the 16 years - or for the Escitalopram - because I was never a star jumper that could trade in comets for the cratered, disfigured life of meteors.
There are bruises on my legs again, and I think I should stop dreaming.
Sleep Well My AngelI didn’t become a mother when I saw the two pink lines,Sleep Well My Angel2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But something changed.
What I had suspected for weeks was true,
& in a moment of fear, I realized my life was forever changed.
I didn’t become a mother when I saw you on the ultrasound for the first time,
But something changed.
I saw you wiggling around, only about the size of a peanut,
& I fell in love.
That was the first time I realized how much I wanted you,
You were mine, and that was never going to change.
I didn’t become a mother when I felt your first kick,
But something changed.
You wiggled and kicked me at least a dozen times that first night,
I was completely enchanted & I fell a little deeper in love.
I didn’t become a mother when the doctor showed me that you were a boy,
But something changed.
I was so surprised; I had sworn you were a girl,
But I was wrong,
But then again, everything about you was unexpected.
I didn’t become a mother when I started getting stretch marks,
But something cha
America x reader- Just Another Day~You drive me crazy~America x reader- Just Another Day3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
You heard a crash from the kitchen. Oh great... You thought.
"Hey, ___!" You hear your boyfriend shout from where the sound came from.
"Don't tell me you broke something!" You shouted back.
It went quiet for a moment, then you heard him nervously call, "T-totally not! Heh..."
You sighed, getting up and walking to the kitchen, peering in. There you saw America sitting on the counter, a bunch of glass on the floor below him. You put your hands on your hips, glaring at him.
"You're never allowed in the kitchen again." You stated.
"But ___!" He whined, "I was getting some coke and it just fell!"
You gave him a look, making him speak up again, "Ok fine, I accidentally hit it when I turned around!"
You smiled at his innocence, then noticed his hand was bleeding. "You tried picking it up, didn't you?"
"Shut up..." He said, looking at his hand.
You jumped up on the counter in the middle of the kitchen to avoid stepping on glass, moving over to the other count
the boy i used to write poems aboutTHIS POEM IS NOT ABOUT LOVE.the boy i used to write poems about2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you took the posters off the walls for the first time yesterday,
moved the bed back into the corner and stocked up on that tea
you love but i’ve always disliked. opening
the blinds used to be a sin but now they drown the room with sunlight,
causing your hair to turn that ugly dirty-blonde color i absolutely hate.
last night, i heard from a friend you got the job at that fancy newspaper
and you’re finally going vegan - don’t let me forget to tell you your risk
of heart attack will double, maybe triple.
i haven’t gotten an email in twenty-four days. oftentimes,
you don’t realize you're falling apart because you're in the process of falling apart.
my mother came over to help me move into my new studio.
we pushed the bed (mattress, you claimed the frame) into the middle of the room
and put on new sheets. these don’t smell like you, not that
i could even smell-taste-hear-see-feel these days.
you stole my heart and bed frame an