Expensive LiesI sit and stare at the toilet bowl.Expensive Lies1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
A guy I know is bulimic.
When we compliment him
I see the twist of agony in his eyes
as his brain reprograms it
to sound like an expensive lie
that costs him another tear
in his tattered dignity.
Friends hurry to him,
to reassure him, to love him.
They tell him how beautiful he is.
We didn't know him before,
but he's definitely not fat now.
We whisper things in concern like;
body dysmorphic disorder.
'I know you'll never believe me
but you are so gorgeous -
not just on the inside.' Not just.
And they're right, I join in,
because they are right to say it
because it happens to be true -
he is stunning. Not just on the outside.
And we want him to see himself
the way we see him, beautiful.
And I join in because
I've felt that strangle of pain
in my stomach, bowels and belly,
when someone used to tell me lies.
So I know how he feels.
Only, he is beautiful on the outside
and I'm not.
He's not seeing reality in the mirror
and I am.
And people rush to correc
suicide is the third leading cause of deathit feels like a friday but it's onlysuicide is the third leading cause of death1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and i'm already done with this week
because this marks the third time i've wanted
to hang myself today.
i've forgotten what my last name was or is and
even my first name for that matter because
it doesn't and never did,
i want to mark myself up with sharpie or
and run through the streets at night without a jacket just to make
me feel alive again,
because nothing does anymore and it's scaring me-
it's really really scaring me how much i hate myself and how
everything i look at can be used as a weapon and that
flashing lights make me go insane;
i talked to a schizophrenic today about the nature of nightmares
and how they always seep out of your head and into the walls
so they can haunt you all hours of the night,
but it's not like i needed help sleeping anyway
because the racing thoughts and pounding heart and tears
are enough to do the job most of the time.
i miss people and want to be alone but i can't
stand not talking to people and
The PillowJust like that of a pillow,The Pillow1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You are soft inside and out.
If I could, I’d hold tightly forever
And that is without a doubt.
You keep me safe
Just like a fort
Made of pillows,
The cushiony sort.
When we play
Amongst my friends
I beam with joy
To no boundaries nor ends.
But when I weep
Into your shoulder
You wipe the tears
And cause my gloom to grow older.
And when I scream with fury,
Frustration, and anguish,
You muffle out the noise
And cause the pain to vanquish.
You’re that one main reason
Why I can sleep at night,
For you put me at my ease
Oh dear pillow, which I now hold tight.
Sail: Chapter 1“Ouch!” I cursed under my breath and pressed the bright line of blood across my thumb to my mouth.Sail: Chapter 18 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
“You’re doing it wrong,” Fendul said. He took the driftwood and my whittling knife, peeling away a thin curl of wood with a single smooth motion. “Hold it like this. You’ll stab yourself in the gut otherwise.”
“Nei. It doesn’t work that way.” I pulled the palm-sized figurine back out of his grasp.
We sat cross-legged on the rocky beach of Kotula Huin, looking out over still, turquoise water muffled by fog. Colossal hills surrounded the lake valley, the dense layer of trees barely visible against the dark sky. A dull pink glow silhouetted mountain peaks in the east.
I missed the cool, dry air of the mountains already. The forest behind us dripped with humidity. My fingers were too damp to grip the bone handle of the whittling knife.
Voices drifted down the shoreline toward us. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?
Bedtime Stories : The Tree That Was Seen*The Tree That Was Seen*Bedtime Stories : The Tree That Was Seen1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Once upon a time, on a planet far away, there lived a little tree. But this was no ordinary tree, no, this little tree could speak. She could speak to the Sun, oh what bright conversations they would have! Every morning he would greet her with a loud, boisterous HELLO!!! and then the two would talk for hours.
They talked about the brightness of his light, his magnificent rays, the perfect symmetrical shape of his body, and how healthy he made her leaves. But before long, the Sun would go to sleep, and a smaller, dimmer, shy little moon would appear in the sky.
He watched over the tree every night, but had never, not even once, said hi. The little tree, being a lover of the day, would fall to sleep, and wait for sunrise. And so it was every day and night, the Sun would shine, the Moon would pass by.
Days, turned to years, and the tree grew strong in the Sun. The Sun, would gloat about what he accomplished. "Look, dear Tree, and see what I've made you! I'v
Lost..Lost..Lost..1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
They give me happiness pills every day
Hoping my life won't be so grey
But only tears and sorrow they bring
As if I can smell but not touch the spring
I'm lost in my own dream
Can't move; for help I can't scream
Trapped between life and death,
It hurts at every single breath
I'm in a sleeping unconscious stage,
Feeding only with my rage,
Never going to break free,
Maybe, this was supposed to be...
003. prayersI cried for years003. prayers2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to a God who never
I'm Still Awake."You're still alive?"I'm Still Awake.2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The amusement in his voice makes me stiffen. I do not look up from the book my eyes scan over, but cannot comprehend. I flip a page as he looms over me, intimidating me, a goofy grin on his face. His bony fingers settle on my shoulders, and it startles me, but I only blink in response, turning another page of my book.
"I know you aren't reading that," he whispers into my right ear, hoarsely chuckling and then leaving my presence altogether. I snap the piece of literature shut, throwing it onto the coffee table that sits in front of me and I cross my arms over my chest. He appears again, beside me. Without any warning, he yanks the edge of my dress up. I make a noise of protest, but do not move to stop him.
He carefully counts the blooming scars against my pale skin as I fidget, looking away. He's laughing under his breath, smirking as he counts the lines that once oozed blood all over my hands. My thighs shake
Atoms Split and ExplodeAtoms Split and Explode 6/29/07Atoms Split and Explode6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I feel stretched, thin and see-through.
Fragile like paper, easy to
cut, rip, bend and crumple.
I am torn in twos and threes.
Spread like butter on too much bread.
I am self-aware and overbearing.
Deeply pensive and understanding.
People need to stop clinging, groping, and clawing
at my sensitive, bruised and crawling skin.
My head is cleaved, much to my dismay.
Hold me in your warm soft arms.
I just want to embrace your everlasting bright.
The stars are shining just for you.
Make me whole, for I am in tiny scattered pieces.
Do you keep contact with a higher power than I?
Can two become one flesh? Can we entwine?
I hold no expectations, thus no disappointments.
A simple solution will present itself if we keep our eyes wide.
Take my hand dear one, and we shall face forever together.
to the wonderreading: https://soundcloud.com/gravitycorner/to-the-wonderto the wonder2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
our love wasn't the kind of love
you name after flowers and
it wasn't one you would want to
take refuge in, rest your head on, no
it was a hard love and it was an
ugly, colorless love. our love was
a trainwreck we couldn't tear our eyes away from
because our ragged souls
were standing as pale ghosts at the windows
hands pressed up against the pane
hoping till hopeless that something
could be salvaged
from the smoldering remains
but it died a noble death
filled with breathless breath
and we are not quite whole like we used to be
we were virgins in every sense of the word
maybe that's why we loved so much, too much
and maybe that's why we went rough and fast
plunging headfirst into something we didn't fully understand
all I understood were
you had such small-as-rain hands
and I miss them
your cloud eyes
the slow way you moved toward me
closing the calm space between us
to envelop me in your young and hungr
bedtime stories don't quite go this wayonce upon a time--bedtime stories don't quite go this way2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
no wait, that's wrong.
let's not start our story that way.
you find yourself in your bathtub,
the water scalding
and risen as high as the rim itself.
you find yourself submerged
and screaming out for somebody to help
you are being drowned.
monsters as black as the sky
are tearing at your ankles,
cackling and pulling you down and out of sight
and water splashes out of the
tub and you are seeing nothing
but old memories that stick to your throat
when you can do nothing but cry.
you find yourself in your shower,
curled up in a corner furthest
from the water because
you are afraid that cold water will wash
away your sins.
you are afraid that if that water touches
you in the slightest bit, you
will melt like the wicked witch, and
you haven't felt enough suffering to die
in such an easy way.
melting is far less painful than the ways
that cross your mind when
water falls over your eyes and stings and
you can do nothing but make
Cage and ChainsSilver chains, a cage of goldCage and Chains1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
a diamond lock from days of old
locked and sealed and locked again
bonds from birth, strong they remain.
A cage of ribs, a rope of hair
no lock, no gold,his feet are bare.
Hunger dwells within his heart
from her his kind is set apart.
A lock of blood, chains of fear
set apart and yet so near.
A single whisper in the night
brings them hope and gives them might.
Beneath the ground, a cage of stone
two hearts no longer stand alone.
Below the grass two lovers lie
as two they lived, as one they die.
StrandedO' beloved sheltered worldsStranded1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
These hours shall be your doom
Mist shroud and ever mournful
Brushed aside by rolling gloom
Ceilings drone on
In blissful grey
With strokes of quiet disarray
Morose ballades burn on with vigor
Garnished with voices
That groan and quiver
O' beloved sheltered lives
These moments shall be your tomb
Given to rest far too soon
From the love of a gracious womb
It Gets BetterListen,It Gets Better1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Every year starts and ends with winter
There's nothing you can do about that
I know it's frustrating
To step out of your house
And see the path you just paved
Covered in snow
But please, be patient
Because the more snow you pile up,
The greener your grass will be
In the spring
addressed to the screams from the radiolast night i got highaddressed to the screams from the radio2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(just like you used to)
and i tattooed the letters of your name across
my chest where my heart
and my lungs
i was reminded of the whites of your
i drug quaters across the skin like i was
gambling away all my veins
from a scratchcard.
(i think someone tried to tell me last
night that i was clasping
my hands together--
like a fucking prayer--
Time Travel TroubleMy day could have been better. Then again, I could have prevented walking into a street lamp by not humming the James Bond theme as I daydreamed about being a secret agent that everyone wants. But what fun would that have been? I sit on a bench at the bus station, waiting for my transport home but of course it's late. Number 32 is always late. I wish things could be more like Star Trek. A simple "Beem me up, Scotty" and I'd be home. I wonder if anyone has actually started building a teleport yet.Time Travel Trouble2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
'Could you hold this for me?'
I slightly jump as I noticed a guy sitting next to me on the bench, holding an object towards me. I grab it and say 'Sure.' instinctively. Why did I do that? And more importantly: when did he get here? The man looks to be 10 years older than me, dressed lazily in a grey suit without a tie and an unbuttoned dark blue vest. The suit would have looked great with the maroon tie I'm wearing. Why that's my first thought, I have no idea. Should I give him my tie?
The Light of the MoonIsabella sat in the light of the moon, her chin rested on her hands and the loose strands of her dark hair blowing lightly in the warm Atlantic breeze. She stared out into the ocean and listened to the water come up on the sand. She dug her toes into the sand and wiggled them until the white powder grains fell off. Today was the third day of her vacation with her best friends, and it had gone horribly wrong.The Light of the Moon2 years ago in Romance More Like This
She watched the water wash a sea shell into the waves. The night was still, and the only lights came from her nearby condo where she and her four best friends were staying, and the moon. Only the five teenagers were there. They were all eighteen or older now, and this was the groups first vacation together alone. Since they had been friends their whole lives, the parents knew they didnt need to worry about Isabella being the only girl among four boys. She was a smart girl, and she knew the boundaries. Of course, they wouldnt have to worry about Phineas either. The
where there's smokesomeone asked me for advice today-where there's smoke2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a girl, fourteen, tear stains down her cheeks,
stick-thin wrists and fingers curling and clenching
searching for something to hold on to.
and all i could think to say
to this girl with hungry eyes and desperate hands
was, “it gets better.”
it took hours, driving home
before i was able to give name to the curling unclenching feeling inside me
the raw hunger, the razor-edged desperation,
the taste of the words i couldn’t find.
what i didn’t say;
you, with your hollow bones,
your spiderweb scars across your thighs,
your shattering thoughts inside your skull-
i know you.
i know how you pull and tug at your skin.
i know how you press your hands against your waistline,
twist and turn in the mirror,
suck in and hold your breath and try to count your ribs.
i know how you wake up in the mornings
and choose your clothes like armor.
i know how you stare yourself in the eye
and refuse to look away.
i know how you mark the days,
A Curious ResponseA Curious Response 3/5/07A Curious Response8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A simple gesture.
A world of light somehow sparks in my eyes.
Tears roll like logs down a mountain.
The sky releases the sun through
departing dark clouds.
I have been engulfed in a war.
What I should be and what I am
are at fierce odds.
Yet, one act of pure emotion has sent me
to a place I had long forsaken.
Why I was placed on this earth has long eluded me.
Human touch has felt alien lately.
I've always had self doubt.
My center has been off.
A warm embrace of appreciation has ignited
my place in this world.
A fire has lit my soul to the core.
Although it's been said before I will
It's nice to feel loved.
To touch someone so deeply
it takes a part of you?
How do you fathom that?
Comprehend that which is invisible.
It's a unique high.
Have I made a difference in this universe?
The stars have stories to tell, the moon
is shy, the sun needs prodding.
I used to think I was wandering on this
land, stumbling, hoping and begging
for an early end.
Table for two.The car-crash-crushTable for two.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of my heartcage fell out onto
bitter blood and
love between the
"I still love you,"
you said, rinsing out the tablecloth,
"car crash heart and all."
A Year Spent DeadSeptemberA Year Spent Dead4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Glowing, laughing, living, breathing. Beneath the falling autumn leaves I walk and just think. I think about how wonderful life is. Because it's great.
There's a new kid in school but everybody picks on him. I don't know what to do because I myself have never been picked on.
So, after much contemplation, I stand forward and say, 'Hey. Stop that.'
After having defended the new boy I now know how it feels to be bullied. Only no one comes to my rescue. That other boy left weeks ago.
But the abuse is just verbal. I can cope with verbal.
Once it was verbal, however now it is not. But they only batter me lightly, we're all boys, it won't kill me. They won't kill me.
Or will they? They nearly did, I think. I may already be dead. I do not know. Not anymore. One day, after school whilst walking across the field, it happened.
First the names.
A Victim Always WinsDear victims (please read),A Victim Always Wins2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sometimes they just don’t believe
That what they’re doing to you
Could leave scars beneath your sleeve
A wound within your heart
A broken dream upon your mind
A tear fallen out of innocent eyes
A tragedy on rewind.
But, please don’t give up on this…
This battle fought inside
This war where you are left tied up
While they shoot you with lies.
Please, you know they’re the ones
That will never make it through
The reality of this world,
By hurting people like you.
Please, don’t give up,
Just keep fighting this battle within
And remember, while you may be the victim…
The victim always wins.
words to say to your reflectioni am a collection of dust and stars,words to say to your reflection10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
blue luster in a sea of inky void.
i am a tongue licking lips, clicking against teeth,
shaping sounds that matter.
i am the lightning that explodes in purple storm clouds,
four miles of haphazard beauty
on a lonely night.
i am the sea in autumn, still holding the warmth of a summer of sunlight,
though the air outside is cold
i am the snow at 6am.
i have not been touched, not stepped on. my surface is smooth as glass.
i am the snow at 6pm.
i am still beautiful.
i am the sound of rain just before sunrise
on a sunday morning.
i am the swirl of cream in a coffee,
blossoming and unfolding like a galaxy.
i am the smell of lavender
after a storm.
i am breathing.