hatehate11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Hatred in your eyes
Hatred in your heart
Hatred consumes everything you are
Why do you hate me?
What have I done?
I'm sure I didn't mean to cause you harm.
I beg for your forgiveness
Yet I'm not sure that I'm worthy of it.
If I hurt you I deserve this burden of regret
I should burn in hell
Live or die with pain.
I cant help but notice
Your life has become pitiless
With all the hate you carry buried deep in
All for me
that's all I can say and truly mean
Yet the Hatred in your eyes and the
Hatred in your heart
will consumes everything you are.
It has begun .
Forever LoveForever Love10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
If I fall in love,
It'll be forever.
The flowers you give me
Will never grow old.
The warmth from your hugs,
Will never grow cold.
My heart will beat
Only for one.
My soul will miss
You, and I'll be done.
The kisses we share,
Will forever linger.
The hands held,
Never looser, only forever tighter.
My eyes will search,
For the one and only you.
My tears will fall,
Till I'm certain our love is true.
Never leave me,
And we'll live happily ever after.
For if I fall in love,
It'll be forever.
Redemption...I'm arrogant,Redemption...11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I know, but I like it.
I always wanna impress,
My hair? I spike it.
I'm vain, and I'm rude,
Cocky, and crude.
Little virtue to find,
Many the vice,
Facades, and masks,
Sugar and spice.
But one thing redeems me,
Absolves me from the blame:
I belong to her.
She's my redemption.
She's got eyes that sparkle in the candlelight,
Like the darkest shades of jade,
And her voice pulls on the strings of my heart,
And I don't want her words to fade.
I'm not sure...
But I think she cares about me.
I don't know...
But I really hope she does...
She brings out the very best of me,
Though… that's not saying much…
She'd be perfect…
Except for one thing.
I love her.
I'm her redemption from perfection.
-solitary--solitary-11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
look at her
can you see?
look at her tears
her tears of rain pouring
from the clouds of her soul.
do you taste them?
lick her wounds
the ones caused
from the dagger of love
piercing its way
into your flesh.
do you feel her?
and there she sits
tasting her own pain
licking her own wounds
failing to see.
she lives in her
this is where
she feels her pain
caused by her reality.
only she feels it.
Depression.Someday my sorrow will end,Depression.10 years ago in Typographical More Like This
But until then,
I can't pretend,
Because quite frankly I'm done with men.
With a slice of hope,
And a glass of depression,
Maybe someday I'll learn to cope,
Perhaps Even look past all my agression.
My heart will mend with time,
Each memory will take its toll,
Not with a penny or a dime,
But with a peice of my fractured soul.
The days wither away,
My heart continues to pound,
No reason to pray,
Theres no god to be found.
Ask me again,
Why are you miserable?
I'll tell you friend,
To the naked eye my pain is invisable.
WILL YOU MARRY ME ?I DON'T WANT TO GROW APART FROM YOUWILL YOU MARRY ME ?8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I WANT TO GROW STRONGER WITH YOU
AND OLD WITH YOU AND HAVE KIDS WITH YOU
AND THINK ABOUT YOU MORE THAN I DO NOW
AND ROLL OVER AND SEE YOU EVERY DAY AND NIGHT
I KNOW YOU ARE THE BEST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED TO ME
NO ONE CAN REPLACE YOU
OR ANYTHING YOU EVER DID OR WILL DO FOR ME
YOU MEAN THE WORLD TO ME
THATS WHY I WANT TO KNOW
WILL YOU MARRY ME?
Amber Pools - the whole storyAmber Pools - the whole story10 years ago in Teen More Like This
Prelude: Dream of Me
I'm not sure how I ended up in front of the church, but at the moment it didn't seem to matter. I stood at the foot of the stone steps in a deep blue fitted gown. Blue? What happened to black? Well guessed I must not be there for a funeral... With blue flowers in my hair and a white rose in my hand, I wandered through the large wooden doors, hoping I looked like I belonged. I'm not sure why the sudden impulse to go there, I just knew that I had to.
No one seemed to notice me as I made my way through the church halls. I walked easily, letting my feet guide me as if I had been there many times before. I came to a chapel decorated with pink delicate roses. How nauseating. I slipped into the back pew and placed my rose beside me. Things were making little sense. I looked around me, not recognizing anyone. Why was I in a church at a wedding?
My Past as a ChildDarkness spreads throughout the townMy Past as a Child12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Been a nice day
And you think that nothing could bring you down
Now as you sit where you last grieved
Listening to the distant voices
You wonder how you could've been so deceived
The yelling becomes more
She screams in the night
Then you hear the slamming of a door
It's always the same
No longer do you listen
Can't stand the pain
No one notices you
Sitting alone in the dark
And there's nothing you can do
Hiding in the shadows of life
Sit quietly and cry
Go ahead and release the strife
The voices now are dying
But still their voices you hear
Out of the night comes painful crying
Sneak back to your bed
Down the dark hall
Desperately tying to forget what was said
How many nights now?
How many have you spent crying yourself to sleep?
Must move on somehow
But where can a five year old go?
Questions with answers you don't know
Sleep now little one
You're too young to bear such burdens
You should be out having fun…
The voices fade with the night
HeavenLove was all that I needed to liveHeaven8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
And I found it there in your heart
But I lost it in a haze of events
For you left me without a word
In a world with all but compassion
I tried so hard not to cry
Because I knew you hated to see me cry
But the pain my soul was enduring was overwhelming
For it had lost its heart
I miss you
I miss you so badly
I hope I will see you again one day
I know it will be in heaven
A beautiful place full of hope and dreams
But until then
Everyday I think of you
And the day you slipped away from me
That day was the day I knew my life had changed forever
The only thing that soothes my soul
Is when I talk to you within my mind
Hoping that you can hear me
The only thing I heard from the day you slipped away from me
Was the sound of my howling soul
It has been in pain
For its heart was ripped away from it
To this day do I hear my howling soul
All I can do is pray that the day I fly to heaven
Will come soon
BrokenMy wounds wont healBroken11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I scream into the darkness
no emotions inside left to feel
just when I thought I could trust you
Self datedSelf dated9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I feel most glamorous when I walk
through Target. Look at the sheeple,
now look at me. I've got a
pinstripe blazer. I "do poetry."
I listen to Gwen and Lindsay
but only for the irony. I understand
the Xbox 360 and Lost in Translation
on more levels than you ever do.
And all I'm coming in here to buy
is a marked-down jar of J. Crew.
Sunflower FluxSunflower Flux10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
He played hard this month: She played well this month:
Mortgages prefixed sales Chlorophyll quotas left in the wake
and rows of steadfast hotels, of cushioned lovers and tickling tiny noses
plastic monuments saluting a gaudy cannon
DefianceDefiance3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Quite a lovely cage you built for her, huh?"
Messirama strode slowly across the room, her arm crossed on the chest in a slightly contemptuous stance. "Now what? Are you planning to keep her in that room for the rest of the fucking time? Feed her like a bird?"
Apparently unconcerned about her rowdy attitude, Vehnas lazily raised his head from the book he was reading and glanced at the woman, which now stood before him.
"Oh dear, dear... holding a grudge, aren't we?" He addressed her casually, "I wonder what could that be for..."
She huffed at his mocking tone and leaned nonchalantly against the wooden bureau behind her, folding her arms tighter against her breast. "Really, as if you had to guess."
He turned his attention back to the book, the beads of his bracelets tingling lightly as he leafed through the pages. "Leave now, darling. As much as I enjoy having your gorgeous self around, I can see you're going to start talking soon, and it just detracts from your whole 'being
DepressionDepression isn't waking up one day and feeling like your world is going to end. It's waking up most days and feeling the world collapse in. Slowly suffocating you in your own sadness until you can do little more than lie in your bed and wallow in your own self-pity.Depression10 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Some people don't get as far as the wallowing, and some people stay there forever. I'm trying to break free but it's not as easy as it seems.
When you're down, everyone says to you "Have you seen a doctor?" "Have you tried anti-depressants?"
I wonder if those people ever tried working their way through the system. Being passed from person to person like a mess nobody wants to deal with. That's how I feel. I 've seen 6 people, so far who claim that they can help me, and the people increase every week.
They claim that the medication will work, that I should have counseling, that I should try to "See the light at the end of the tunnel". If you've ever been down, it's the last thing you want to hear. Did anyone ever tell a moth
cheatercheatercouldn'tkeepheryou fellcheatercheatercouldn'tkeepher4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you tripped and fell!
and your wings ripped off
as you slid into hell
and oh your god
how you never meant
to go astray
all meek and innocent
as your eyelids flutter
and your big eyes well
while he eats this up
is a woman's soul
and comfort is a man's
[I know] (better)
You didn't fall.
you leapt when they tugged
and you wanted every
single thing you took
every touch you arched into
every silence you broke
you spurred this on
kitten claws in skin
you shouldn't have been touching
champagne lips against mouths
that'd never claimed you as theirs.
[Choke on your memories
when your lapdog chain gets too tight
and you've only got his hands and his mouth
and his weak sappy words to burn up your night.]
war.come into this.war.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
come down with me
into the blackened battlefield
of my body and my mind.
this is war, my love.
and in a world full of triggers
begging to be pulled,
i crawl, tired and small,
longing for nothing more
than to cage the feathered thing
that's curled within
that slowly but surely
when gods weepyou see darling,when gods weep2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sad poems are like the plastic flowers
people still think are pretty, the ones you
can't bring yourself to throw away:
things just seem so much better
when they're not real.
Dying WishThe little boy came to her as she died. She lay flat in a hospital bed, was surrounded by hospital machinery, hissing and beeping the way hospital machines do. The boy was nude, and glowed faintly, as if he were a poorly matted special effect.Dying Wish3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Are you an angel?" she gasped out. It was hard to breathe, even harder to talk, and she was certain it came out slurred. But he smiled just the same, shook his head.
"No. What's an angel?"
Despite herself, she chuckled an awful sound. He moved in close, took her hand, waited for her wracking cough to subside. His hand was small and warm in hers; she gripped it as hard as she could, which was not hard at all, grateful for the warmth of contact.
"But I'm dying. You're here to take me, aren't you?"
"No. I'm just here." He cocked his head quizzically. "What's it like to die?"
Oh brother. She clos
things you don't learn in schoolI found a cricketthings you don't learn in school2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on the roadside, put it
in a mason jar to show the world
and called it by a first name.
He died of loneliness shortly
thereafter and i learned how wretched
it is to be forsaken.
When I was twelve, I watched a boy
slit his wrists with a plastic spork
at lunch, and though I
laughed at the irony, all i kept thinking was
"I really hope he washed his hands."
He bled tears
of scarlet red that looked
just like tomato sauce, but I just stood
there because it was the coolest thing
I'd ever seen.
The boy, he smelled of dirty
laundry and cigarettes and sorrow
and used to sit by the window
until the bell, where he'd wait until everyone
had gone outside to make sure it was safe.
His eyes were the hollowed rings
of Saturn, with freckles
like stars & cosmic bruises
up and down his arms.
If he spoke, it was of distant shores and escape,
and we believed it
when he talked of things like freedom,
hearing the scratch of gravel
roads from within his throat.
I realized one day that I'd nev
Poets make the best liars. His black eyes were stars, andPoets make the best liars.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the c o n s t e l l a t i o n s in their depths
told me sad poetic stories of-
Empty SidewalksHer caramel complexionEmpty Sidewalks3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
was the perfect companion hue
to the cinnamon-bronze car.
She was hunched, headscarf
paralleling the curve
of the window, shoulders shielding
her infant: a curled
semi-colon wrapped in her arms.
Her eyes were
the color of wet sidewalks,
and as empty
as the night streets.
A Pound of FleshIn the cracking crystal in your eyes,A Pound of Flesh4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a Daphne deflowered,
to the dogs.
I saw you peering at your self
before a mirror;
a heavy absence in that place
where your right breast
You knew, then, what was at stake:
what you'd forsake
atop that table
and what would be left
half your womanhood,
all your tragedy,
and not an ounce of hope.
Conscious Stream From The Chemical PlantThe following is a non-fictional account of a conscious stream that took place during my exploration of a water treatment plant.Conscious Stream From The Chemical Plant3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I was at the office, looking at the wall-sized whiteboard. Around 200 buildings stared back at me, numbered and color-coded. I've been to pretty much all of them, but one unfamiliar number stuck out to me. #41. What a boring number. MUD Platte West, that's a Metropolitain Utilities District. I look up the address and drive. Just to go see it. And by the way, this isn't even a slow day for me, this is mostly what I do.
I drive West for 35 minutes, which is forever in Omaha time. One road, Q St, hills, meadows, an elementary school, more hills. 41 is easy to spot, it's a huge concrete thing in the middle of nowhere. I take the access road to the guard shack, he smiles, lifts the arm and I'm in. the tile is obnoxiously clean. &