Survival of the FittestHear me read it
I am crack'd. Open to the pit
with the nub and root exposed.
I am silver pierced and punctured
with holes and protruding pieces
of rocked raw wounds rubbed open.
I am barely shattering my lungs
by inhaling the same air as you
even long after your departure.
With a bile-laced smile I pave
and fill in crack and crevices
I am more than disfigured limbs
and disillusioned heart muscle,
scraping a breath down my trachea.
More than the mess you have made.
I hold in my innards, and survive.
Beneath the RoseI can't burn the street down, the tar will fill our lungs,Beneath the Rose4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I can't fix the bridges, or the bolts bedded in our tongues.
I can't explain the constant, buried deep beneath the rose,
with all the other things I broke; death and all erodes.
Something(someone) Smallmy curious ivoriesSomething(someone) Small4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
tucked between these lips
beg to see what kisses taste like,
to feel what love looks like,
but dampened down
between safety and sound
the tiniest bones in my body, in my ears,
vibrate with a fake smile
and the nod of my dainty doll head
as i lie (with you/to you) again
and grimace; i'm okay.
ShameSat at five am eating a cheese burger with a knife and fork - my mum walks in. She doesn't question it but nonetheless it's suddenly impossible to swallow as my throat fills with shame and contracts with the strength of my self loathing. What are you doing? I am not sure, I was anxious so I couldn't sleep and suddenly the idea popped into my head and then it was all I could think about until eventually I figured I wouldn't get to sleep unless I got it over with.Shame4 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Sometimes, often, I cry when I eat. As I put larded handfuls to my lips I hear someone in my head screaming; what are you doing?
I feel nauseous now. Not intentionally, although I am certain that my binge eating is both emotional and disorderly, but as a pool of disgust wriggles in my flabby stomach.
I try to be honest, in fact I am known for it, but every once in a while I write something so true that the thought of releasing an inventory of my flaws into a starscape of eager critics makes me sick to my eyeballs, so I close th
Beautiful LiesYou painted a neon yellow streakBeautiful Lies4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
across my ankle
and told me I was art.
I raked a venomous red line
across your throat
and replied: and you're a liar.
IgnorePeople used to love me.Ignore5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
There used to be something interesting or
exciting in my darkness
or maybe it was just that we were all younger then
and they didnt know what I knew
which was that the world is a horrific place to be
and so I must have seemed wise and new,
but now I feel so alone
and it hurts
and I can't do this anymore
and I look around for a friendly face
and when I can't find one I wonder
who the hell I was looking for anyway
because I wither in agony
and half of it is loss, of her,
and half of it, is knowing
that no one will ever wither
from the loss
CopperThe underside of my heartCopper4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
has rusted through the shell.
Smooth tissue hangs, sodden,
through the ring of oxidised needles.
The frantic muscle
takes on water, tries not to drown,
in the body of fluids
you spat into my chest cavity.
Heavy barnacles of regret
cluster cancerously 'round 'til,
like all else, they disintegrate
with the acidic memory of you.
ElectrolytesShe is electrolytesElectrolytes5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
pulsating a charge through his veins,
shocking him to the dehydrated tissue
wrapped around his heart core,
and though he thirsts for her
and the magnetic spark
in those salted caramel eyes -
he resists the attraction
and retreats to a self imposed cell
DesperationYour spine is a secretDesperation4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
my fingers can uncode.
Your vertebrae cracks open,
your secrets are exposed.
I suck out the tender marrow
and scrape flesh off the bone
hoping; if I absorb you
I will no longer feel alone.
EveShe wore a galaxy on her rib-cage,Eve6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
settled high upon her breast,
when I kissed her I could taste it;
the currency of her success.
ConsummationHear me read it!Consummation5 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In debris beside your house
there's the rotting stench of home,
where all the ghosts of lovers
and their broken chances go.
You smile at me, I shiver.
I taste your tongue on mine.
There's no dead for the sympathy
as you trespass bound'ry lines.
In the broken bulb of midnight
when the caskets rock to sleep
there beneath the soil bed
you lay me down, I weep.
You smile at me, I wonder
as you pin me underneath
if you know how I wish that I
were six feet more beneath.
In the soiled marital bed
where pigs and otters go to lie
you grunt your way to release
the only release I want, is to die.
BurntThat afternoon, under a burnt croatian sun,Burnt3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
we flaked our protective shells away
exposing the pink, raw vulnerability
that hid beneath our flanks and fortitude.
We delved systematically into nervousness
and chewed reflectively on our inner cheeks
as self conscious anxiety grew wildfire
across the too-bright landscape of our love.
The bones bleached and brittle, they broke,
and we could not stay together without them.
I don't regret opening my heart to the skies;
what I regret is never getting it back.
HeartacheThere's a reason whyHeartache5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
both my heart and my gun
have empty chambers baby,
and it's you.
The DealWe made a deal, you and I.The Deal7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
That I would remain, and you would love me.
It was a compromise
that spoke of sunless days that were still warm.
Of days that would shine
and that would swell with your companionship.
You made a promise, dear,
and I, I was fool enough to keep it for you.
I tucked it tight
beneath the heart that ached for release
from our promises, from life.
I kept our bargain hidden, I kept it kept, for you.
I made a mistake, didn't I?
Forgetting nothing lasts forever, nor no one.
I forgot myself
in my own desire to die, that others do without want.
We made a deal, you and I.
that I would remain, and you would love me.
You broke your promise.
You broke the space under my jailbird heart.
The deal is done
and with no terms to endure, I've rewritten
the history of us.
For if you do not have to keep it, why would I?
Barkley and II used to give spare change to homeless guys when I saw them. Particularly if they didn't ask for it, because confrontation scared me and I didn't like people I didn't know speaking to me. It was my own little way of trying to apologise through actions to all those people who had asked for change and received nothing but a panicked squeak in reply.Barkley and I3 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I never gave money to the ones with dogs though. I read somewhere that they drugged the dogs so they would lie down and look sick, and that way they got more money than those without dogs. It seemed like cruelty to me so I pretended not to see them.
I loved my dog, Barkley, a seven year old black lab who likes cuddles, water and playing fetch. He had lay by my side as the crippling depression had swept over my life in waves, and he had patiently waited for me when those tides subsided and I tried to find my own feet in the world.
I knew, with absolute certainty, that if I ever ended up on the streets I would give Barkley to a shelter. It wou
Broken Birds and Stark PhrasesWe slip and slide and fallBroken Birds and Stark Phrases6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
down curves and carrow places.
We cursive at the wall
in our undefinéd spaces.
Disjointed limbs extend
to strumpet our arrival,
to warn who are not friends
we will kill to survive all.
Hung upside-down haunters
hug branches in the Forrest.
Merry nightmare monsters,
Cheery snarling chorus,
Arachnic children know;
you can run but you can't hide
from this disparic truth,
darkness waits for you inside.
Although you seek the sun,
as all creaky spinsters might,
the night can't be out done
and it has you in its sight.
CrucifixionWrists skyward she began to beg; "Please, Please God, I can't do this anymore. I don't want to be.. a prophet, or a messenger of peace and love or whatever it was that you sent her to me so that I would become. I don't.. I can't.." she broke off, broke down, and her mind crumbled around the excruciating wondering if she was experiencing a new type of crucifixion. If God existed, and if he was purposefully keeping her in pain for a bigger plan, and if, ultimately, she would ever know the luxury of a spinal cord snapping open and exposing the bare wires beneath.Crucifixion5 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She pressed her hand over her mouth to keep the words inside, and when the tears landed on her fingers and hung for extended moments before they fell, it looked like ivy creeping over the door of a great empty house. Her eyes so dark and lonely. The shaking shed the ivy leafs and when she spoke it was as if a random series of words had tumbled out from the hurricane inside, a cough, a wretch, a sentence; "I think I'm dying".
For JDBA lot of people talk about when life begins. Some say it begins at conception. Love, however, can begin a long time before that. You can love the idea of a child, the notion, the plans for a future. You can love the dreams and the hopes. Similarly, although a life has a definitive ending, love does not.For JDB3 months ago in Emotional More Like This
Even when a child is taken from us far too early the love remains, the traces that they were there remain in our hearts and minds, because love is not tied to a finite space of time. It doesn't know days, weeks, hours. All love knows is the beauty of another being and the pain of the loss of them.
The only comfort we can take from all of this is that if our love for a child is not linked with how long they are alive for, it makes sense that neither is their love for us. That is how love endures, and surrounds us all everyday, and helps us survive the difficult business of living on without them. So today is a day for tears and healing and remembering the spaces in our hearts where those
Chalk OutlineA chalk outline waits for meChalk Outline3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
sometimes it slips into bed with my shadow
and I can do nothing but roll my eyes
like a mis=abused and weary parent,
but every night when my shadow
merges with the edges of the day's page
and blurs into a dirty midnight orange
I lie in bed and shudder;
without my shadow's protection I feel it,
a chalk outline waits for me.
Mr E.An electrical surgeMr E.3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
of inspired neurons-
the chrome antennae
with a far louder voice
than my own
I think therefore I am,
I type therefore
I am heard.
Cluck Thiswhen circadias begin to floatCluck This8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
upturned on a stagnated river
and you yourself are heart down
with your crest fallen about you
then look for the end in me.
when closing your eyes brings light
and the sun kisses carrion
with your heart clucking openly
about some misdeed, some old seed,
of misfortune from its past - then
then, look for the end in me.
Trees know how to be braveThe trees are resigned to dyingTrees know how to be brave3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and still they do not shrivel
against the brutal winds of August.
They reach out. Reach up. Grasp.
They etch out, as veins,
into the tender flesh of the sky
and pierce the sun with broken fingers
trying hard to warm aching bones
for their first and final days
of a life as a skeletal dream.
Trees know that tragedy is not death
but what we let die in us, in life.
An unexceptional night...An unexceptional night in the lives of Sabi Duría, Mu Erte & Amo R.An unexceptional night...4 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
When he walked in I gave him a glance; a disinterested glance but a glance nonetheless. That was my mistake. Newbies to the bar always gravitate to those who make accidental eye contact, like a fleeting moment of Seeing makes us more likely to protect them if the shit hits the fan. Which it doesn't. By the time he folded himself anxiously onto the dirty leather stool beside me I had torn the sodden BrewDog beer mat into tiny irregular squares.
"Hey." He was trying to sound tough. Definitely a newbie. I nodded in response and scratched my jaw through the wiry beard in the hopes that a continuation of my disinterested demenour would translate as barely disguised hostility and get this guy off my ass. Which it didn't.
"It's my first time here" he said, leaving the end of the sentence trailing like an empty windsack. Windsack, I chuckled roughly as he told me his name, thinking about him only as a Windsack
After the BeepI am an answerphoneAfter the Beep5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
you have connected only
to pre-recorded messages.
Epitaphs of my happiness.
They stand solidly
against all resistance
they are like proud nails
that the wind batters
deeper and deeper
into solitary confinement
of a singular plot coffin.
I am voicefemail,
hear me lie.
A chance secondI lie awake, staring at the cornices.A chance second11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
3AM: my fingers worry at the corners of my sheet.
My anxiety worries at the corners of my rib.
I bite and tug and huff out my misery
As the silence keeps me awake.
I lay with pressure of your absence
Pressing down over my nose and mouth.
A soft asphixiation of the heart, of the sanity.
It is a hot grey night in London.
You are awake, startled by the sunlight.
7AM: you can't lift your weighty skull from the sheet.
The day sirens, but you stay, settled,
Under the weight of your shroud, your loss,
Only the silence keeps you awake.
Unknowingly, for the first time in weeks
We are unintentionally in sync;
Laid out in funerial colours as we die.
It is a dull blue day in Dubai.