lies, she wrotei. just a mimicry, really;
desperate to shine.
ii. counterfeit & clockwise,
tasting words on her
iii. with a dysfunctional mind
& apocryphal dictionary,
she cannot clone it all.
iv. "say anything," the pen
whispers as she trembles
among ink-scented fraudulence.
v. but she just laughs & plays the part,
forgetting what the pages told her:
"truth is stranger than fiction."
curiouser and curiouserseventeen years &curiouser and curiouser1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
still chasing white rabbits,
it's no wonder i've never
been in love.
we're all mad here;
no one can find the road to
(i don't know
where to go)
let's fall down a hole.
(i'm just a chrysalis
with no butterfly wings)
off with my head when it
can only imagine nonsense
& clockwork hearts.
give me a cheshire's smile-
i want to know
what it feels like
to be in wonderland.
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.
IcarusSun girl,Icarus1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
the whispering stars
& feathered clouds dance
for you tonight.
Do not let anyone
clip your wings;
you were made for the skies.
AstrologicalI have lost myself toAstrological2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Venus & Mars,
tangled in their mismatched limbs.
Just dream dust & shattered prayers
begging for a new set of skin
(she can't remember where she orbits).
Pluck these fractured wings;
the Sun & Moon no longer ache
to see me fly in their luster.
Mother Knows BestThere is too much smokeMother Knows Best1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
residing in those noxious lungs of yours;
you've inhaled one too many
How do tar-coated fangs taste
when all you do is howl at
waning, unstable moons?
Just like the she wolf
you wish you were;
but your cub,
she just wants to sing
to ink-wrought stars.
Unheard of and undefinedSometimes,Unheard of and undefined2 years 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?
constellations, ambitions, and things in betweeninstead of poetry,constellations, ambitions, and things in between1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
i want to live in
draco & orion,
wrapped in nebulae.
oxygen is too
want to breathe in
neither the gods
nor my demons can
stop me —
i will make the universe
broken dreams and invisible heartstringsEvery morning,broken dreams and invisible heartstrings1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
she wakes up to a
hollow chest & stormy,
red rimmed eyes.
It's so easy to be in love
with being in love;
swallowing fake truths
& sincere lies.
But her heart—
it forgot how to smile
two years ago,
because no one can tell
the difference between
imitations & reality.
please find me;
I'm lost between the cracks of
Desperate to breathe
yet wondering how it would feel
she's never belonged
in this universe.
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."
Perennial BloomsI want orchid fingers,Perennial Blooms2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
gossamer & shy.
But my reflection,
she charms vipers
with bloody thorns.
Too many corroded anemones
have taken root in my soul.
My rose-tipped lips
will shatter the mirror,
& her poisonous seeds will
incinerate inside my now
ashes to ashesi am the girl withashes to ashes1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
more faith in myths than in
there are more dead bodies in this world than the living.
and if that doesn't frighten you, then i
don't know what would. i guess you could
say that graves are just the closets in which
we hide our skeletons in.
there are ghosts all around us.
and i think that maybe,
i'd rather take my chances down in
the underworld with them than up
here where the earth is slowly
all because of the living.
wild thingsthere are days iwild things1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
want to run with wolves.
to howl at the stars because
the moon has never done
anything for me, and swallow roses
like their thorns never
but this cage -
it seems there's no way
and i fear it's
for anyone to hear me.
life is just a zoo full of
all our monsters, and
[it's our fault] we
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.
lowercasei carve insignificant poetry into my tonguelowercase2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and hope the world will pardon the lack of
bated silence, for i write in nothing but
despondent screams and uppercase;
i've forgotten how to let everything go
and i'm tired of my incessant howling,
because it seems to me that the quiet
words are the ones that are the most
AquariusShe is the winter's heartAquarius2 years 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.
confessions of a misguided poetcertain things in my mindconfessions of a misguided poet1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
would be better left unsaid,
i. how I stared at a bottle of pills
for an hour as if they would slide down
my throat on their own.
ii. when I stepped out of the shower
with bloody knees and didn't bother
to put a band aid over them.
iii. why I can't keep a smile long
enough for someone to take
iv. who I wanted to be when I was
a little girl and who I am
right here and now.
v. where I tried to jump off a
bridge and landed in water
deep enough for me to swim in.
vi. what I wanted to scream at
you that day but I just stayed
silent and hoped you would forget.
no more pretty words and
today; just life,
the truth, and everything
that I never want to tell
Welcome to WonderlandFalling down, down, downWelcome to Wonderland2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Spinning 'round and 'round
All around, the ticking of clocks
Such a discordant sound
Right is left and left is right
Night is day and day is night
Up is down and down is up
Life is death and death is life
Voices whisper from every niche
Screams echo and cause a twitch
Claws and teeth threaten to kill
Eyes wild with bliss of such a thrill
Run, hide, fight, or plead
Nothing shall work, nothing you need
The sun and moon will laugh as you cry
As the Queen shrieks her commands to the sky
Blood forms penumbras as heads roll
A cry of defiance with each bell toll
The jury turns in accord, madness shining bright
Their question full of words to make your skin crawl with fright
"ArE yOu AlIcE?"
T i c k
T o c k
T i c k
T o c k
"OfF wItH hEr HeAd!"
~Welcome to Wonderland, Alice~
intricately ordinaryI am the wayward child,intricately ordinary1 year ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
subliminal and defeathered—
What's that in your heart?
Myths and the things that really matter
like wallflower clippings,
unfiltered and restless.
Don't forget to let me go;
the keepers of my heart
sleeping behind the wheel.
To my male halfYou’re the Ash to my Pikachu,To my male half2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
the lenses to my frames.
Whenever the world’s gone mad,
your laugh takes away the pain.
Nerds must stick together,
like paper and glue.
I must have had good karma,
since I chanced upon finding you.
Through all the inside jokes,
and those awkward looks we get,
I’m fairly certain people think we’re crazy;
we’d be better off staying silent, I bet.
But where’s the fun in that?
Eccentric is simply what we’re meant to be!
These fools clearly cannot understand
how entertaining it is to be you and me.
So here’s to you, my dear friend;
my fellow forever Pokémon Trainer.
The two of us being together in arms
could never be so plainer.
untitled.shut up.untitled.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
just because you
hide behind pretty
words & stone smiles doesn't
mean i'm going to do the
i have the soul of a
& when i run
with the wolves,
no longer matters.
all my demons out
the next time you attempt
be ready & waiting.
Second star to the rightThere are days where sheSecond star to the right1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
forgets how to fly;
wings all tangled up in
"There is nothing wrong with me,"
"Nothing at all.
I just can't seem to
The clock strikes
she's nothing but
and withering pixie dust.
we are not a fairytalewe are not a fairytale.we are not a fairytale2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am not the strong lead with a heart of fire,
bones of steel, and eyes of vapid curiosity;
motivation seeping through
my every last intended action because
I was written this way
(the heroine falls only to rise again:
proverbial phoenix, burning out
because it is the cycle of my
life) and you, you are not
the beautiful travesty, perfectly composed
to strike me where I’m weak and
[almost]human, delicately woven
like the tapestry of my dismantling—
a subtle irony where somewhere, a writer
chuckles softly, understanding
we are blinder than church mice, born
in a makeshift world of darkness where
I’m not sure whether or not the sun will
rise again tomorrow, because it won’t exist
until someone breathes life into it,
but no. we were never so lucky
to be carefully orchestrated,
a composition rendered for
another’s satisfaction. I am not the
climax, nor the resolution, but a lamb
with Stockholm Syndrome and
a tendency towards people
Playing GodSometimes I like to pretend thatPlaying God1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm God, putting a pen to
paper and scripting out someone's
life like a puppeteer.
Maybe if I
wrote the epilogue in
my own blood, the
screams inside my
head wouldn't be as
real," is just an excuse
for killing off their
loved ones; I want to feel
their agony tenfold (because I
deserve to think I'm as heartless
as I feel).