A Knight's PledgeI swear to you that I will protect you.A Knight's Pledge2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
No more pain shall reach you ever again.
Let me be your shield and repel the attacks.
I swear to you that I will fight for you.
No more dragons of the dark will grip your heart with terror.
Let me be your sword and cut away the monsters.
I swear to you that I will pick you up.
No more will you have to stand alone and feel weak.
Let me be your companion even when others abandon you.
Let me be your knight.
But more than that, let me be your friend.
Don't ever feel like you are alone.
I (don't) want to be aloneI want to be aloneI (don't) want to be alone2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
So no one can hear me screaming
So I can bleed out my pain
So I don't have to hide the problems
And the wounds
I want to stay here alone
Fighting my inner demons
With no help
Nobody to feel my pain
Nobody to fight for me
I want you to leave me alone
So you won't get caugh
In my spiral of darkness
And self destruction
Please (don't) leave me alone...
henceforth assigned to carry a large hole.you taught me how the lack of somethings presencehenceforth assigned to carry a large hole.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
can be a presence all of it own.
your absence filled
the entire room.
the last magic I believe inIt's been years and I'm still here. Recycling the same sentences. Stuck in the same words. Buried in a past that doesn't quite belong to me anymore. It's funny how with enough distance nothing ever looks real anymore. It's like the way I can stand four miles from the lakefront and can still see the horizon. Clashing blues and greens. A straight line of water against an even straighter line of sky. And that's it. It's everything and it's nothing and for a little while I can pretend I'm somewhere else. Somewhere new. That I can see an entire ocean sprawled out in front of me, instead of the dirty familiar waters of Lake Michigan. I've grown up here and I've grown apart from here, but I'm stuck at the top of the hill on the corner of the street that my sister lives on and I just want to run and run and run and never look back, but that's not all there is. That's not all that's left.the last magic I believe in1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It's so much bigger than that so I trace the familiar roads back to my home and I sit in my living room and
overwhelming wordsthere's a lot you can do with wordsoverwhelming words1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
but sometimes i forget how to do any.
and sometimes i look at a keyboard
and see so many words that come together
from just some of those letters
and there's so much to write
that i don't write at all.
and sometimes i think
i drank deeply from the elixir of life
when i was too young
and when i drank i only drank the words
and i spilled them out in the morning
because the night was too silent to break it.
i wonder if the silence i've kept
is as big as the words i've written.
i'm not writing to be censored
it's not like i do that to myself
when the words come rolling
and i don't let them out,
when i'm running down the street
but don't make a sound,
it's not like i'm afraid to be loud.
i hope you can tell by the heat in my eyes
that my gaze turns steady as soon as i lie.
i hope you know that when i write
and my diction turns from eloquent and quaint
to fucking filthy and raging
that i'm finding myself,
even if that takes years off my life
by looking at
NightmareInevitability is the day we die,Nightmare2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Hopelessness and a dark grey sky,
Fearful of the tears we cry,
Sceptic in the bed we lie.
As days become months,
While hours become minutes,
And we open our arms,
To greet armageddon.
Hell on earth,
The unholy re-birth,
Of a soul long gone,
Born of the devils song.
A beat down maniac,
A homicidal psychopath,
A schizophrenic murderer,
So prepare for a world of hurt.
As the heavens fall from the sky,
While you ponder in the bed you lie,
As you awake from the nights nightmare,
With a newfound seat of fear.
It's Burning Down Anyway"You shouldn't play with matches," she said. "You'll hurt yourself."It's Burning Down Anyway1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I lit a cigarette - with a lighter - and remembered Annie Venter telling me that in the eighth grade as I lit matches behind the school. I had stared at her and lit the whole matchbook on fire, and then I had dropped it in the grass. She made me stomp it out.
I stood on the porch of my apartment, listening to the rain and staring out at the fog and the clouds and thinking that somewhere out there, Annie Venter was probably sleeping, not thinking about the time she told some stupid kid not to play with matches. I flicked the lighter on and off a few times to see if it would feel the same way the matches had all those years ago, but it didn't.
The smoke curled above me in the cold air, a visible metaphor for addiction as it hung off me. Everything in my life smelled like that anymore: like ashes.
I dropped the cigarette on the deck and I stared at the small red ember, letting it burn and smoke, letting it become
Gypsy Bard Lyrics .:By Pinkie Pie:.When your rife with devestationGypsy Bard Lyrics .:By Pinkie Pie:.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There's a simple explaination:
You're a toynaker's creation
Trapped inside a crystal ball.
And whichever way he tilts it
Know that we must be resilient
We won't let them break our spirits
As we sing our silly song!
When I was a little filly,
a galloping blaze overtook my city
So they shipped me off to the orphanage
Said "Ditch those roots if you wanna fit in."
So I dug 1,000 holes and cut a rug with orphan foals
Memories are blurred, and their faces are obscured, but I still know the words to this song.
When you've bungled all your bangles,
And you loved ones have been mangled,
Listen to the jingle jangle
Of my gypsy tambourine!
'Cause these chords are hypnotizing
And the whole world's harmonizing
So please children stop your crying
And just sing along with me!
muteit’s two in the morning somewheremute2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
where it’s quiet except for breathing
that’s loud enough to hear from here.
convince yourself you’re alive;
you’re the only one that can.
here is a game we played as children:
we pretended language was something only
to be seen on paper,
we make-believed the worst injury
we could get was those made by
trees and rocks while our bones weakened
under the attacks we tried to endure
of words like, “fat” (before
we even knew how much we weighed)
or “stupid” (before
we even realized that it
doesn’t matter what 9 times 8 is
as long as no one figures out you don’t know.)
sticks and stones may break our bones
don’t tell me words don’t do any damage.
don’t tell me you don’t think of yourself as a weapon
every time you open your mouth,
don’t tell me what exactly you think of me,
don’t tell me anything, i think you’ve said enough.
let’s just be silent,
Post-It Notes to Send Back in Time (part 2)i.Post-It Notes to Send Back in Time (part 2)1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
You own your own body.
Your life is yours.
And don’t let
tell you otherwise.
It’s okay to believe in God.
It’s okay not to.
And it’s okay to go back and forth
between the two
because no god worth believing in
would punish you
for doubt or disbelief.
Learn how to take a compliment.
Invisibility isn’t so bad.
When people notice you
they scrutinize you.
If they don’t see you
you have ultimate freedom.
So don’t be afraid to hide in that corner.
Own that corner. It’s yours.
Pay no heed to art snobs.
Don’t be an art snob yourself.
Remember how you were told
that every time you “sinned” it was
equivalent to crucifying Jesus
all over again
so every mistake you made
no matter how small
made you feel like you’d killed someone?
Yeah. That was bullshit.
It’s okay to not have a boyfriend.
It’s okay to not want one.
Hate is not the problem,
it’s what you h
No Turning Back "You're sure you know what you're doing, young lady?"No Turning Back3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"And you're certain you want to go through with this?"
". . . Yes."
A sly grin. "Right this way."
The tall, wiry man steps out from behind his desk and motions me to the back of his dark, dusty shop. I'm only slightly hesitant in following, wondering suddenly if this isn't the kind of situation in which a girl might be taken advantage of. But amidst the shelves and shelves of ancient objects, I catch a glimpse of a thin-bladed samurai sword to my right, and reassure myself that, were Mr. Beanpole here to try anything funny, I could lunge for the sword and wield it for all its worth. I nod, pleased with if not proud of my plan of attack.
"Come along, come along! You haven't much time!" As we near the back of the shop, he flattens himself against a shelf, motions me to pass. I hold my breath, doing my best to avoid contact wit
Meeting Coco (not Chanel)chanel, that's what they call her,Meeting Coco (not Chanel)2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my little coco girl,
mysterious with her
inky, waterfall hair
and philophers eyes,
it's ironic, though,
for apart from her
looks, she's not
one for fashion,
her skinny limbs
dressed in rainbows
of cotton, and
always two odd shoes
on her left and right,
i love her so,
with her chipped
and girly grin,
did, since the first
day i saw her over
the white rim of my
of morning coffee,
she stumbled in
all bronzed legs
hand locked around
her treasured notebook,
nails and fingertips stained
with purple word-kisses,
dreamily she had gazed
around, drinking in the
world around her,
her eyes grazing across
customers with sleepy growls
and waitresses worked of
their feet in early rush,
till her soul-filled stare
found my features,
as always mr. anonymous
hidden beneath my
with indian beads ticking
and silver bracelets shimmering,
she tiptoed over to my booth
to settle down, moccachino
Coffee and SmokeThere she sits. A cigarette between her fingers with smoke lethargically floating up and disappearing. Occasionally she will take a drag and slowly let the smoke escape from her mouth. Her mouth framed with pale red lips, thin, yet curved. She leans back in her chair, legs crossed, head leaned back. Her eyes flutter closed then back open again. A kind of olive colour, but with some reminisce of the sky she is staring up at. Her pale, angular face shows no sign of tension. Black as the dead of night with faint hints of red lights, her hair short, choppy, styled in a messy sort of way in stark contrast to the smoothness and lightness of her skin. Her collar bone protruding framed by her white button up shirt and loose black tie. Her long, thin arms covered by the fabric of her white shirt, one relaxed on the table she is sitting beside, the other making periodic trips up to smoke. Her chest was flat, and her waist was lean. Her black pants hung loosely, but emphasized her plaiCoffee and Smoke4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Amber and Muddied RedI think I finally knowAmber and Muddied Red1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
what color your voice is.
It's some sort of amber tone,
like I told you before,
but what I couldn't put my finger on
was the pearlescent overlay
of muddied red,
like your heartbeat,
like your bass guitar,
like the A&M shirts
you always wear so proudly.
But even though it's clearer now
than ever in my mind's eye,
I still don't know the name
for such a mixture of color,
I haven't heard
your voice in a while.
DespairingDespairing11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You've told me no tales, and I've told you no lies
And yet I am the one that still sits here, and cries
Marking the time as the future is stumbling
I despair once again at my life now crumbling
Sorrow runs deep and my tears will stain far
I beg for an answer to the who that we are
Shifting and aimless, with no hope I can keep
I bang against this wall, unbreakable and steep
The scars from the tears, my face they do mar
Cracks in my sanity mark a door standing ajar
Broken and bent, through these shadows I'll creep
The words that you spoke made a rift that's too deep
I can think of your smile, and a part of me sighs
But as soon as my joy is beginning, it dies
What now haunts me, your face it is wearing
For you have becme the crux of my despairing
in the blink of an eyeshe was born on a day whenin the blink of an eye2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
tectonic plates were crashing against each other
and i think that’s a good metaphor for her:
she was always the kind of person who fought
battles, even ones she couldn’t win.
she was a mess of moments she should have
taken seriously and too many times she tried
to laugh off the pain.
i learned how to care about other people
too much by watching her.
diagnosed as a grenade, she told me one day,
sure to blow up in someone’s face.
you’re going to be fine, i told her.
just let me leave, she said and
i wish i had, but i couldn’t,
not until she kicked and screamed her way
out of the doors, resenting everything
that stayed, a friend by memory alone.
i still have the scars from her detonation.
i will probably carry then with me until
i, too, leave.
fast friends make fast ends make sad ends make
wondering when she stopped caring
enough to not even want to say goodbye.
to the new girl, don’t worry:
ClaritySilkenClarity1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
dear sacred, unnameable, unapproachable youeverything is interconnected.dear sacred, unnameable, unapproachable you1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
on that rough patch of a slippery road
in the passenger seat i stared into the noise wall.
i knew then.
to carry this conviction in the purse
of my stomach like a leaden bullet.
there are ways to smuggle this
and make it out alive, i repeat.
she the catalyst,
empty bullet case
shifted gears and became a stranger.
you turn around and see
a wall of a slippery road.
one to zero,
limp neuron. and i believe
we all switch modes
but is it circular and are there ways back to foreground.
i am god i am fraud,
(as in) here is where we converge
and conversely split up.
here at self-pity our cultures briefly meet
listen i do not play chess.
i am not faking it when i say i am reaching out.
it is very clear that i am on the edge.
and nightsky synapses lock arms
the circumference of the
suspension bridge before it
the failed escape artistshe is a snowflake-skinned sighthe failed escape artist2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
floating on the winds of Eurus,
playing tic-tac-toe on her skin.
she always comes out the loser
standing on the road between
two worlds, she wonders when
she started to read the map wrong,
because this isn’t the
second star from the right.
she can burn the pictures,
but she can’t burn her memories.
and damn it,
her wanderlust is trying to
pull her up, up, and away
but the desolation is keeping
its slimy tentacle wrapped
around her ankle and
each one of us carries cemeteries beneath our skinyou are not the only oneeach one of us carries cemeteries beneath our skin1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
to walk like there are
who looks both ways
before crossing the road
"knew a girl who";
you are alive
and you will experience
hurt, and you will
be so thankful
for every painful breath you take
because it's better than when
everything goes quiet
and all you feel is exhaustion.
there is more than just
one cold snap
before you enter
the winter of your life.
there are spells
of sadness and rage,
hate and denial
of all that you know
and all that you deserve;
and you are not the only one
to fight for everyday you are here,
alive and breathing
and striving to thrive
on such an unforgiving planet,
in such a world
that births emotional deserts
in its people;
you are not the only one
if alice in wonderland was set in 2012,i might cut my hair if it didn't remind me of you,if alice in wonderland was set in 2012,1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
but just like the fade from september into the pits of october,
i'm not alice, this isn't wonderland, but i am just as surrounded by things that yell,
"eat me! drink me!" and they don't say it but i know they'll all make me bigger,
sadder, fatter, too big to fit into a house, my arms my legs come shooting out,
everything i feel is just too loud-
i should be better than i am.
i should be taking the world by the shoulders, shaking back its shoulders because i am a storm, i am a force of nature and you will take notice-
but my winds are quiet. my rain is sad.
i'm too afraid to swell up in full vigor,
to take what is mine in case it's taken from me again,
i will never forget what you did- in camera flash moments, in sharp moments-
to leave me broken.
there are some cuts that never close up.
there are some things that never get spoken.
and there are some things yo
whispersthere are too many of you;whispers1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
too many skeletons and bones
and ghosts and [whispers] clogging
the area between my eyelids
and my iris.
you drown out the colour in me,
taking me from that vibrant green-
grey-blue he used to love so much,
to a washed-out makeshift memory
[whispering] into my soul.
can you remember how it used to bei.can you remember how it used to be1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
when our world shattered, i wasn't
old enough to know. i knew our
mother cried at night and clutched the sheets
until her knuckles
turned white; that you shut
yourself in your bedroom and turned your
back on what was breaking;
i only knew for sure the day he
said it's only temporary, kiddo, that it
was done, a permanent fracture
in glass already strained. my world was ending,
and i could only watch.
our father didn't count as
home for the longest time. he wasn't a
replacement for the
mother we missed during the days, and he knew
it, i think.
i think it broke his heart.
that first christmas was half a tree because
there wasn't enough room
in the duplex for a full one, decorated
with bud light coasters
and tiny ornaments strung on with unfolded paper
clips. a lot of them broke when
they were flattened, and i never saw the
symbolism til my childhood was gone.
i think mother lost
herself for a while, there. i knew she
wasn't sleeping, but an eight
year old doesn't know h