Let the Fall Make You Stronger."Hey! Are you all right?"
"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"
"Um...because you just fell from the roof of the hou-"
"See, that's where you're wrong. I didn't fall. The floor challenged me and I accepted."
"And how did that go for you?"
"The floor won. But only because it had the advantage."
"Of being non sentient and vast in size, along with the fact that there is a freaking storm out!!"
"Nope. I just attacked from the wrong position."
"I overestimated my skills."
"I'll say. You're bleeding!"
"Only a little. Ask me again."
"If I'm fine."
"Is it because you're bleeding?"
"You're supposed to ask 'Why'."
"God, you're so bloody difficult!"
"But cute. Just ask."
"Because this world we live in, it gives us these dreams, you see. These great big beautiful colourful galaxies in our heads of ideas, thoughts and empathetic conclusions to our fellow humans. Our brain tells us, go on, be curious, make those mistakes.
beautiful broken things must stick togetherbecause she is a broken pretty thing,beautiful broken things must stick together1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and he is the little boy who grew up
The Girl Who Was Afraid To BeShe speaks to me fondlyThe Girl Who Was Afraid To Be9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
of passions and talents,
of guitars and stars,
with such breathless intensity
then stops short and
for speaking at all.
All because somewhere in her life,
someone she loved broke her heart
her beautiful words
and telling her to
keep it down,
People aren’t born sad.
We make them that way.
It's not hatred, it's incredulity.when i was ten years old myIt's not hatred, it's incredulity.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
teacher asked the class,
"if you were god, what would
and i remember
biting my lip so hard
that it bled. carefully,
i wrote about
how i would teach
kids from an early age on how to
love yourself and no one
else and that there is no such thing as
an almighty power that will pity
you and answer your desperate prayers
at three a.m. because you're the only one
who has that kind of control.
when i handed it in she just looked
at me like i was the
her child's bed. the next day i
was sitting in her office wondering
why it was so wrong to
talk about what's in your heart at a catholic
school when that's what the priest tells
you to do at every sunday mass and
the teacher asked me
another question, "do you
hate god?" and i
wanted to scream "yes, yes!" because
how can a god let the world
slip through their fingers like this one has?
but instead i answered,
"no. i just don't think there is one."
and sat in the chair,
staring at the cross on t
The MonstersThe monsters were neverThe Monsters1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
under my bed.
Because the monsters
were inside my head.
I fear no monsters,
for no monsters I see.
Because all this time
the monster has been me.
How to love a girl who can't love herself.one.How to love a girl who can't love herself.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.
On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.
Don't let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says "I think I'm broken" smile like you
know a secret and say, "No, you're mending."
But do not be the one to fix her - no, she
HumanityHumans are cruel.Humanity1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Humans are killers.
Before guns it was knives
Before that it was stones
Invasions, burning homes,
Stealing lives and loves
Releasing crows and
Humans are good.
Humans are kind.
They live, love and laugh
They have the gift of hope
Helping them all to cope
Through evil human things
Sowing seeds and
Sewing angel wings.
Humans are strange.
Humans are incomplete.
Punches to kisses to games
Anger to love to insanity
Tragedy to crystal clarity
Whirlwinds of empty whims
Empty prayers and
Humans are living.
Humans are dying.
Ashes to ashes, soul to Hell
Or perhaps to Heaven
No human can really tell
If even either is real.
A Prayer for the Scar Mappedi hope you find someone who loves you for your scars.A Prayer for the Scar Mapped11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
your scars are the battles you fought
alone, scared, broken at midnight
navigating the map of your lost soul,
wearing nothing but threadbare dreams,
with demons who would not die,
and who could not rest.
and still strong, you fought on.
i pray you find someone who loves you for your scars
your scars will tell the stories your lips cannot.
your scars will reveal secrets your heart cannot.
your scars will create meaning to the little things you do.
so find someone who loves you for your scars.
this is all that I can pray for, for you
and for you,
and for you...
The Girl He LovesThe girl he loves is midnight, like the blue of the sea cradled by the moonlight.The Girl He Loves1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
The girl he loves is verdant, the very green of the hill kissed by the summer delight.
The girl he loves is coral, as pink as the roses that grow in his mother's garden.
The girl he loves is crimson, red like the autumn leaves that lay abandoned.
The girl he loves I can never be
Because he's allergic to violets,
And violets are too much like me.
Wistful"I am the boy who wants to loveWistful1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
your misshapen words,
your broken hearted pieces,
your ink split fingers.
I am the boy who wants to kiss
those scar tattooed arms,
that tear stained face
mend what has been broken.
I am the boy who can
make your heart
sing poetry again."
If only he would say it
like he had
FragmentsI call them fragments, the parts of me that were too exhausted to stay. He calls them flecks because I am a flake. I wish I was a flake. It sounds prettier than being a fragment. Flakes are like snow. Soothing, falling from the sky on the tip of his tongue that melt and disappear. Fragments are archeological findings of a scarred past we really should not remember.Fragments2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I want to remember my scars. So I am a fragment.
I draw on my legs. When my skin dries out, I use my index finger as a pencil and draw what the clouds are trying to tell me. Sometimes it’s a dog, and sometimes it’s a bear and sometimes it is his face looking at me disapprovingly.
That is when I stop drawing.
At night, when the rain falls, I sit at the bay window and pretend to write stories whilst he pretends to sleep. “What are you writing?” he will ask in his asleep voice. “A funny story.” It is not. It is a pale, scary story, and it looks like my skin. “Were you dreamin
All I WantI want someone to talk toAll I Want1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
it may not sound like much
but its all I want of you
I want to never be alone
to never be forced to hear
the silent creaks of my home
I want someone to share with me
to give me the pieces of their day
through tiny conversations, and hearty stories
till there's nothing left to say
I want someone to stay with me
on those many cold nights
when the only thing that can keep me warm
are their sweet whispered delights
I want someone
it hardly matters who
to stick with me
and stay with me through
the transgressions of my days
the weaknesses of my soul
and share the same with me
make me feel whole
I want to someone to talk to
someone's whose hand I can clutch
All I want is a true friend
Surely that isn't too much
Hey Remember Me?Hey remember me?Hey Remember Me?1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Without anyone to talk to,
Yeah we met last week
I'm so glad
You actually remembered me.
Hey remember me?
That we could hang out.
I know it might
Seem a bit strange to ask
But are we friends?
Now I can be at ease
You’re really here with me
It wasn't just a tease.
Hey remember me?
Just a little bit though
I thought you liked me
Because of that
Because of the way I am
Hey remember me?
To keep up a smile
But it’s getting pretty hard
Because every once in awhile
It seems like all you want
Is for me to cry.
Is that what a friend does?
Hey remember me?
Please say you do
I'm your friend
And all that entails
So I can take them
All your continual assails
As long as you remember me
I doubt my heart will fail.
Hey remember me?
I'm being forgotten
Though I suppose that means you don't
You never do
Never even try to
Even after all I've begged of you
Even after all we've been through
You treat me like
This isn't the type of love that deserves poetryThis isn't the type of loveThis isn't the type of love that deserves poetry1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
that deserves poetry,
born out of an inability
to survive alone,
born from a necessity
to believe in a lie
I'll continue to whisper
in your ear each night.
"I'll protect you"...
A lie neither of us believe
and neither of us dispute
for fear of losing our only tether
to this decrepit existence
that we both fear so much...
this love isn't romantic
nor is it confrontational
its not comforting
nor is it disturbing,
It's merely there
sinking beside us
in the sea of life ,
that's gently drowning us,
we can almost breathe.
How To Show A Girl She Can Love HerselfWhen you see her cryHow To Show A Girl She Can Love Herself1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
you get a rag,
a gentle delicate clothe
lovingly grasp her hand
and dab its tip
to dry each tear as they come
and ask each drop
why it'd leave
such beautiful eyes.
If she wishes
to be in the sky
Tell her to go
Take the sun ransom
And replace it in the sky
So you can see her every morning
and plead for her
To return each night.
When you see her scars
gently like you might
caress the broken wing
Of a dove
and remind her
that for every hurt
that she's survived
has only made her
that much more unique
that much stronger.
Show her that she is worthy of love
That she deserves the love
she fears to give...
show her so that
one day after you're
Why I Hate Romantic Comedies1.Why I Hate Romantic Comedies2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Because they say that for every single boy who counts the stars, there is a little girl who is wishing upon one. (And they never mention what happens after the stars fade into morning and the other falls into oblivion)
Because they say that people fall in love when the time is right, they are true to each other and are ready to be together. (But no one ever mentions how she is so damaged she can barely think, and he is so cynical that he may never be ready.)
Because they insist that your soulmate is going to be a good, kind, caring human being who will love you from the bottom of their hearts. (This is due to the fact that even if there is someone for everyone, bad people are immune to the soulmate theory.)
Because they always have a happy ending (And real life begins after the sun has set and she has realized that he may not be everything she hoped for and he begins to have second thoughts about commitment.)
Because everything is assured in i
you are single.you’re not single because you didn’t forward that chain letter,you are single.1 year 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
She's a WriterShe sits at her deskShe's a Writer1 year 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.
It Isn't BeautifulI used to cut myself.It Isn't Beautiful1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Some of the marks faded,
But some stayed
And now I’m forever jaded.
People have kissed my scars,
Others have turned away
But here is what I have to say;
It isn’t beautiful.
When it hurts to walk
Because your thighs are bleeding,
When you can’t talk
About the help you’re needing;
It isn’t beautiful.
When it’s boiling outside
But you have to wear sleeves
Because of your bloody little
It isn’t beautiful.
When your friends
Are scared of you,
Of the things you do;
It isn’t beautiful.
When you feel so worthless,
So down and out,
Used up and empty,
And all you do is shout
But nobody hears,
Because you silence it
It isn’t beautiful.
When they find out
And you see how much,
How deeply they care
And they hate themselves
For not being aware;
It isn’t beautiful.
When they take it away,
And monitor you
And you’re itching all over,
Desperate for it,
For one last hit
Two Years LaterShe asked him gently, “Do you love me?”Two Years Later1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
In his long silence, she found closure,
And left her love under a willow tree.
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
Broken Sleep, Red LipstickI am only an insomniac when it rains. The pitter patter of the raindrops reminds me of the pitter patter of cat paws.Broken Sleep, Red Lipstick2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(He liked to sleep at my feet when I could barely think, just to make me feel better. I think you used to tell him to.)
I wish I could wrap your memories around my spine and wear them as a backbone, because they are stronger than the arch my broken spined back seems to have developed of late.
(Spines are oddly brittle, and a lot like wrists. Easy to break and forever to heal.)
But I cannot depend of any of that anymore. So I wear red lipstick and high heels and go to parties and tell strangers how amazing they are to be wearing red lipstick and high heels and how different they must be to come to this party instead of the other one.
(All because you would hate parties and think nightlife is so stupid.)
It is what I do with my insomnia. Because my spineless back, the memories of you incessantly looped in my sleeplessly addled brain and the raindrops
the dead and the dyingthe funny thing aboutthe dead and the dying9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
humans is that
we think we are
invincible and immortal
a tainted world
where cars drive
too damn fast.
i just try to
get by without
more than once.
.death has a way.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
of assuring you
that he is your
he's the only
one that will
stay with you
reach the end
Skin.I love the way life leaves its mark on our bodies.Skin.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Every laugh and smile etched in the crinkles around your eyes and mouth;
Those tan-lines the time you forgot about sunscreen
Because you were so hell-bent on reaching that mountain peak
Or when you just became lost in the gentle lap of waves at the shore;
The scars you got skateboarding in the park at summer dusk
Or when life became pain and it was your only release.
Our bodies are a record of our memories and experiences
They are our travel journals and emotional diaries
Our delicate armour to the elements.
And no matter its colour, its stature, if it's not quite intact
If you sometimes think it takes up too much space, or if it has pointy corners
Your body is the vessel for your soul, and every wonderful facet of who you are
Sparkles from the surface of your skin.
Skin that may grow to be wrinkled, tanned, scarred, well lived-in
Although not always embraced by you the way that others embrace it.
Take the time to explore the s