The JokeThe first joke is when they tell you to be strong for everybody else after your father leaves for the fourth time.The Joke2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The next joke is when they tell you to stop being sensitive when the children at school choose to hurt you for being differentstrangeodd.
The wrong joke is when they tell you to be quiet after the beating your mother has given you has bloodied your face and you can't see through swelled shut eyes.
The funny joke is when they tell you to shut up when you stand up against the man with lifeless eyes who tried to make you as lifeless as himself.
The unaware joke is when they tell you that you should have defended yourself when three men come at you in a dark alley.
The painful joke is when they tell you you should be grateful that the man who raped you didn't kill you as well.
The angry joke is when they tell you that you are wrong for existing because being gaybilesbiantransexual is a sin.
The ignorant joke is when they tell you to be less provocative with your man when he pu
EscapeTake me somewhere far awayEscape1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
From this cage of madness
Before I lose control over myself
Before insanity takes over
And turns me into a monster
Skinny Wordslook:Skinny Words4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
he was winterish blue eyes and an autumn scarf dressed in an stupid pink summer sweater that made no sense on a spring day. His shoes were converse, the kind of the skinny intellectual who had just enough money to buy one pair of decent shoes. she never really liked skinny intellectuals, yet did find herself considering them sometimes, in the way she considered coffee that was tongue scalding (horribly and without excuse).
it is odd then, that she still doesn't regret his monsoon flavoured kiss, the kind that made your tongue bleed with its passion, its heat.
he drew in uneasy catches of breath as he snored in the heat of the summer night, nights when she would stay up and listen to cars that passed by, pretending they were a waterfall instead of the cold harsh truth of metal against concrete, just so she could sleep as soundly as him.
she took his breathing for granted.
he spent hours lost in the dry unending silence of his typewriter, of h
hometown bluesthey say home is where the heart is,hometown blues2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but they never claimed it had to be beating.
if this town is all there is to living,
then I'm dead,
and these dusty dirt roads
are my sad little gravestones.
there's a harsh winter wind.
but it's the same air I've inhaled
since I first opened my
surgical steel eye to the world.
remember the pale pink dress
I wore to our senior prom?
you held me
under the fuzzy yellow confetti light.
I loved you because you were so gentle,
and when I fell apart,
you were the only person who knew
I could fix myself on my own.
you twirled me like I mattered,
because you knew that one day I would die.
you forgot that you would, too.
you are wrought iron starlight,
my crooked grey dove.
you live in the sidewalk cracks,
moaning my name as I
cautiously step over the gorges.
my mother calls, from time to time.
I've learned to let the phone ring
because her voice is not the one I want to hear.
she's too tepid, unsure.
she's the link strangling me,
pinning me t
.you’ve got.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
float onnow I'm thinkingfloat on1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
that the moon's smarter than me:
she's in love with the earth
but keeps her distance,
I lose my orbit
when you're not around,
and I find myself without gravity,
waiting for you all night
when I know you'd rather be
.a lie.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the body in
About Honour"Ever worried about what the world thought of you?"About Honour3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Nope. I only worry about what I think of me."
"What do you think about you?"
"That I am a broken-eyed, converse-reject-wearing wise ass."
"Really? And what do you call yourself?"
"I call me proud."
"What do you call yourself?"
"I am the grade school version of the heartbroken girl, who can't play the guitar so she strums a ukulele instead, who can't paint so she draws terrible pictures in graphite that keeps giving way."
"I see you doing it again. Put the fucking pen down right now and stop it."
"What? I was just writin-"
"You're cutting yourself to pieces with shark-toothed words again. Just because a sword is a beautiful, glittering object of honour doesn't mean it always has an honorable purpose."
"Do you really think I am a sword?"
"Nope. I think you're beautiful, glittering object of honour. And the thing with honour is, it makes the world turn to stare in awe."
AddictedYou ignore the warnings, the pleas of the people around youAddicted2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Because you know what's right for you.
You start with one but it's not enough.
Then comes along two, then three and you're still not satisfied.
As the people around you fade, you don't care.
You have what you want,
what you crave,
what you need,
Because you know what's right for you.
As your frame of mind begins to change,
The numbers begin to spiral,
You aren't doing it for fun anymore; it controls you,
It becomes a part of your routine.
Twenty-Seven.. Twenty-Eight.. Twenty-Nine..
It all feels the same,
You wonder what happened.
But you listen to yourself, assuming it's nothing
Because you know what's right for you.
The people you once loved hate you.
This virus continues to consume who you were,
who you are,
who you wanted to be.
This is no longer a game.
The addiction is killing you, from the inside out.
But it's far too late now,
Because you thought you knew what was right for you.
A Snowfall CandlelitMy version of winter has always been flawed. It is controlled by the fall of snow and the exact amount of the ground it covers. It never ever covers the tiny little patch in the garden, right near the broken tin roofed shed. I suppose that is why I just like the idea of snow. But I do not love it.A Snowfall Candlelit3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(Realisation: I suppose that little corner represents the only part of me that even I cannot love.)
I met a man with candle lit wolf eyes and a strong, warm lion heart, who tells me Sea God stories before disappearing into a cold, cold winter's morning, fog cloaking his very essence.
(Addendum: Sometimes I think of five a.m. coffee, and wonder if your smile didn't hold all of winter's warmth in it, whether I would still be liking the idea of it.)
He lights candles and turns my room into a place of sanctity and prayer often. It makes the love making ironic in a way, I suppose. But nothing he ever does fails to intrigue the very fabric that my cotton soul is made of.
SpinelessMy mother always told me I was born with four spines. They stay there, side by side, in my ramrod straight back, the reason for my very correct posture. So when my back began to arch, people noticed.Spineless2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My parents were first. You look different, they would suppose as I would approach every morning for breakfast. Is something wrong? My mother would question. Are you ill? My father would ask.
I had a gift with the vague and I used it to my only advantage in this scenario. Because telling them the truth would be a lot more devastating. How would I tell them about the fact that my bones, my spine, the very part of me they admired most, was depreciating?
I suppose the trouble with most relationships is to trust someone, knowing that you would willingly lie to them, just to protect them from getting hurt. We all do it, and those of us who claim we don’t, only lie because their lies are smaller. I lied to protect them from what had happened to my bones. Not just my spi
Sea of Liesi.Sea of Lies2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My father never read me the story of Icarus. I found it for myself. I suppose he did not want me to know what it was like to almost touch the stars. But it was only after I had read the story did I even try to reach so far. It is a little like falling in love...and then drowning in the sea.
(I would be lying if I said the fall didn't break everything I had once believed was solid.)
My science teacher knew well that I was a dreamer. When I told her I believed fairytales were as real as love is, I could see the disapproval and disappointment in her eyes. I suppose thats why in her classroom, when I was asked what the greatest force in the universe was, I answered love. I suppose thats why she laughed and reminded me that love was as much a fairytale as the fairytales I believed in.
(She was wrong. Love exists...its just been broken into a million little pieces, set afloat in a sea of heartbreak.)
My mother didn't want to speak about t
Austenesque Therapy“Hello.”Austenesque Therapy2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
“Good afternoon. Why have you come to see me today?”
“Because I had to.”
“I see. So tell me... what’s bothering you.”
“I lose my breath because I can’t believe that this is all I am going to be.”
“What is wrong with what you are?”
“I’m not loved.”
“You have your friends, your family-”
“Come on, you know what I mean. The devil-may-care-what-the-world-thinks, passionate, can’t-breathe-without-each-other, catch-you-when-you-fall-kind-of-love.”
“I don’t even know how to begin to find it in this world.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I prefer living in my books. I like how that makes me feel. And then I’m just disappointed.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
“It makes me feel sometimes, like I am completely unreasonable to say, that in a time of smart phones
Unsaid truths and spoken hateunsaid truths and spoken hateUnsaid truths and spoken hate1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
will forever be how I remember you.
I won't remember your petite
and deliciously sweet smile.
I won't remember the nervous way
you'd embrace me
as though my open arms
might be retracted at any moment.
I won't remember your kindness
wrought from a belief you deserved
none of what life had been willing
to bless upon you.
I won't remember how I nearly loved
every little part of you
from your crooked smirk
to your large hands
molded perfectly to fit in mine.
I will remember your cowardice
your fear of the possibility of my love.
I will remember your lies
whispered sweetly to me
in that empty library
of how you thought
we could last together.
I will remember all the embittered
and loving words
which choked me as you forced
Love as an AsthmaticI snatch my breath after we kissLove as an Asthmatic2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
because I want to feel you
in my wheezing, useless lungs
not just a craving
a desperate need
in the physical urge
to breathe you in,
make your mystical secrets
a part of my body.
My DiseaseMy fingers bleed wordsMy Disease2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
that my lips cannot say.
When they try to trickle out,
I scowl and turn away.
It may not be contagious,
but it is a disease.
Holding myself deep inside,
it's getting hard to breathe.
Lies come so easy,
to cover up the truth.
It’s like my second nature,
grown from my very youth.
It’s deeper than conviction,
more earnest than a thought.
It’s my way
It’s my life
It is my disease.
She's a WriterShe sits at her deskShe's a Writer2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Her headphones in,
The world shut out.
She bleeds for others
As words fly from
Her mind to her fingertips.
She stares at the screen,
At every little comment,
The good and the painful.
She forms her emotions
Into books and poems
To throw away the hurt.
She's a writer,
And her best weapons
Are her mind and her pen.
When Our Stars CollideTo the girl who is suffering from a gravitational collapse,When Our Stars Collide2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In the depths of an August summer,
when you are unnecessarily sad,
remember that there is hope
assimilating and fixating itself
into the crevices of your stardust eyes.
I wish I could take all
the things about you;
fold them into your fingers so
you could touch the galaxy
that resides in you.
You believe that when we love,
we are in love with part of ourselves;
for we are made from the same
star particles dancing across
the universe until they separate
only to find each other again.
What I Can't HaveI wanted wingsWhat I Can't Have2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
To wrap me gently
In such a wondrously beautiful embrace
Amongst the stars and angels
So I delicately ripped flight
From the butterflies surrounding my window
In the hopes they could fly me away.
I wanted to feel loved
To feel the doting heat
Of a lovers breath on my neck
And grasp on my heart
So I kissed the sun
And held it ever so gently
Against my breast till
It burned me away
And I could reminisce in its loving burn.
I wanted to be whole
Without ugly bones to trap my soul
Without a life
So desperately wanting
Everything it could never have or be
So I embraced the seas
Submerged my entirety
Letting its infinity
All that would be left of me,
Till I could only
Wash among its waves
.not too much more.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
icicles in the desert.
whatever you give me,
give it to me undivided.
thank you for your quintessence:
"if you're out of ordinary,
you need a refill."
you are single.you’re not single because you didn’t forward that chain letter,you are single.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
because your replies were too quick
because you missed one of his
because you said the wrong thing.
you’re not single because
your tits are too small or
her ass looks better in those pants or
you have a stomach or
“men want women with curves.”
you’re not single because you’re messy
you’re not single because you’re not ladylike enough
because you don’t fit in
because you’re too ugly
because you’re too this, you’re not enough of that.
you’re not single because who would date somebody like you?
you’re not single because you fall in love too easily,
or because you don’t open up enough.
you are not single because your heart is too big
or too small.
relationships are not gained through meticulousness,
at how precisely your words land
and how perfect your face is when you laugh.
you are not single because it’s what you deserve
I can't write poetry for dead girls.there are tooI can't write poetry for dead girls.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
many pills in this
world and too
much misery in
the human heart
but that didn't mean
that you could just
up and leave when
we both know it
could have gotten better
and i miss you like
a wolf misses her pack
or a goddamn dragon misses
her fire and i'm sorry
that i can't give you
a bouquet of jasmines
(they were your
favorite, after all,
because that was
the only princess
with a pet tiger)
because poppies are
too cliche and i'm
sorry i wasn't there
when all you needed
was a hug and for someone
to whisper "it's okay,
you're perfect enough
for me, don't listen
to that junkie bitch
who just happened to
give birth to you" and did
you know that i'm still waiting
for a reply to that one
email about the world's
best puns because fuck,
there's a stubborn part
of me that still refuses to
believe that you're gone.
I Wasn't Supposed To Be Worth It.Was it worth it?I Wasn't Supposed To Be Worth It.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Trading the taste of cinnamon on your lips
To smell like cigarettes and a painful hangover.
Was life so cruel to your perfectly skewed smile,
That you had to swallow a bottle of brandy
Every night at 9 pm
To hear yourself laugh again?
How could I have not noticed
The tremor in your right hand
Every time you held a pen?
Was I so blind for the love you had for me to see
That my love was destroying you?
'I am yours.' You whispered when you still had Petrichor surrounding you.
I inhaled your scent like oxygen,
All the while I suffocated you like sulfur.
You gave me your heart on a plate,
And I was the last pill that took your life away from you too.
Mother always told me I broke the things I had
Because that is how I was;
Selfish and undeserving.
I didn't deserve you.
You weren't supposed to be mine.