You lie to me as I sleep.You have blue-gold eyesYou lie to me as I sleep. in Free Verse More Like This
and a bad habit
of only telling me you love me
in my dreams.
I lie awake,
sleepless and missing you,
the heavy comforter
draped across my naked waist
as stars settle,
across the sky.
And I wonder
if the barn owl outside,
is telling me I must move on.
if the moth
flitting across my cheeks
is telling me
that you're already gone.
You have a leprechaun's pot of gold
hidden in the depths of your heart tonight
and I can read it
in the shadows of your eyes:
You just love the idea
of falling head-over-feet
for the impossible.
Forever on the Horizon LineWild windblown hairForever on the Horizon Line in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
and dead-leaves-in-August eyes.
Still searching for you.
Chasing RabbitsThere's a rabbitChasing Rabbits in Free Verse More Like This
tangled in my veins;
he's shaking my ribs,
I've got him caged
beneath my collarbones.
I can't stand
much more of the twitching,
the fur tickling my breaths
as he searches
for an escape.
I want him out,
but I don't think
stomping my foot
and telling him
how unfair it is
that he's choking me
with his little rabbit doubts
I shouldn't have made
the space near my heart
such a nice place
for him to move into.
Searching for ReliefDepression: when evenSearching for Relief in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
a poet cannot find the
If I were a better person...If I were a better personIf I were a better person... in Free Verse More Like This
I would know
that the distance between us
isn't my fault
or your fault
or his fault
that the distance between us
is a lack of time
and the notion
that it's too late to change.
If I were a better person
and it was up to me,
I'd write down all my flaws
and mail them to you right now
to take as you will...
but all I see
are the shadows on your words
and how you've always taken
the easy way out.
If I were a better person,
I'd tell you
I've never blamed you
for the way things are now,
but I wish,
late at night,
that you still fought for me
like you did
when you thought you could win.
If I were a better person,
I'd pick up the phone
and ask why,
I have never mattered as much to you
as they always have...
and I'd understand
if you whispered
I don't know,
I don't know,
I don't know.
If I were a better person,
I'd take the time
instead of taking offense...
but I've never known you
except in five minute phone ca
Burning hope brightly.Hours before dawn,Burning hope brightly. in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the front step feels like losing.
One kiss ignites hope.
Love like the ocean.Hearts race like mustangs,Love like the ocean. in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
cold fingers not as painful
as fears of goodbye.
SandstormsThe mirror doesn't lie,Sandstorms in Free Verse More Like This
an African blush--
red-hot and wild--
creeping across the desert
of my skin.
hungry and tense,
through roiling veins
beat at my soul.
outside these walls
calls to me,
bone-deep and roaring.
It calls to me,
and the globe on my desk
looks smaller every day.
Hard Rock Bottom of Your HeartYou have a nasty habitHard Rock Bottom of Your Heart in Free Verse More Like This
of poking me where it hurts.
There's no scab there,
That wound has never healed.
Burning In The Morningi feel like being angry andBurning In The Morning in Free Verse More Like This
periodically i get
flashes of a heat that
singes my split ends and
makes it hard to breathe because
i don't do well with madness
although i'm always mad [in a
sense, my darling] but
anger? anger? i've never
felt this anger, not like this
usually so complacent so heartfelt
so soft i'm so soft, i'm
i'm pathetic and i'm tempted to
kiss embers into your esophagus.
i'm pathetic and i'm temped to
murder you with my fiery love/hate.
oh, but hate is too strong of a word
to be used on a firefly such as yourself.
Forgive and Forgetand she's fumbling over her wordsForgive and Forget in Free Verse More Like This
through them almost
because she knows she was wrong
to hate you
but now it's better now because
she forgave you
even though it was only
herself that she had to
For Lack of My Own Liquorthe more your mouthFor Lack of My Own Liquor in Free Verse More Like This
touches that glass
the more i want to
take it from you
because you're too young to
live these things and hear
their words and know
how to run so fast
(and i'd only take it to
drink myself; oh,
teach me how to lie with
cherries black as yours
between my lips)
i wish i had the key for you
i wish i didn't have to watch you lose
i wish i knew what to do
but for now i wish you'd just pass the
whole damn bottle. i don't care what
you say, i'm done with being strong for the
both of us.
Holiday Themed and Everythingi triedHoliday Themed and Everything in Free Verse More Like This
spiced chai tea today
but it was
the fake kind,
not the real tea and
reminded me of you
you're as fake as they come
kind of good.
I'm Keeping Youyou say this sounds likeI'm Keeping You in Free Verse More Like This
a bad time
but i think this is the best time;
the best time for you to see who i really am,
who i become in the instant the wolves aren't looking
and who i am when i can't be me much longer.
don't be afraid if you find me with a colorful
drink that reeks of Russia and a slash of a bro/ken
smile: it's me, and i'm still here, but i'm
just trying to survive in a torn-up world.
Being Psychethe girl you met two summers ago was full of dreams and no realityBeing Psyche in Free Verse More Like This
the girl you met two summers ago is dead
the girl you met two summers ago, and loved until you could do nothing but hate,
she's traipsing around campus with hefty honors books in hand
and making friends to be loud with; she's been sober now for more than three whole months
and doesn't contribute it to your leaving at all; she's new age and
new genetics and new girl
the girl you left behind in a small town is living out her city dreams
she's wearing butterfly wings on campus and fucks up just to, you know, fuck up
she's six months of new cells and resolute
she's full of courage and lions and real
she isn't the girl you'll see in your rearview anymore
because she's the autumn sky in front of you
(everything you can't have and more)
Unlike Other Childrenand then the words start winding around your hands againUnlike Other Children in Free Verse More Like This
(are you on fucking lsd? you can almost see
the doubts choking out his screams in the dark)
and you're yearning for another go at the
liquid courage above the refrigerator but you gave yourself a
stern talking-to last time and you'd rather not endure that again
but you so so so want to breathe, these flagstones
don't go down easy, and no one is willing to answer your
emergency call, the only one you've made so far
homework, she mutters, ashamed of your habits
bed, cries your fellow amnesiac, beaten herself
the last one won't even answer your pathetic hands
no, this is the last time you think to education
that education can save you;
where was education when you were trying out curses
only to save yourself from filling the third grade classroom with
where was education when you didn't understand
why people could dismiss you so, another textbook to be studied?
where was education
The Spelling of Usall about us was not all about you orThe Spelling of Us in Free Verse More Like This
me or the dog but it was all about us and
how i felt whole in your arms and nowhere else
and your wings wanted more than Russian aerospace
and we would consistently ask each other the same
but we knew GOD we knew
that life would never be the same without
i just wish that you didn't have to come first
because then we might have outlasted the only syllable.
Five A.M. Last Thursday Morninghe's good at arranging my bones the way they should beFive A.M. Last Thursday Morning in Free Verse More Like This
while i'm always putting them in all the wrong places
and wondering why i hurt when i sit up if i sit up at all
and when i woke up at five the other night
i didn't know it was because something extrasensory had happened
but in the aftermath and my own curiosity
i found that i am among the right kids, those kids
who wake up when i wake up
after something tumultuous grips the earth
the saddest part about indigo children is
the hole they have in the center of their being
but love, you make me feel like it's not there
especially when you're setting my bones straight
tsking at the way it's always my hips that break apart
and not my insides
The Conclusionstargazer:The Conclusion in Free Verse More Like This
all i ever needed was myself
and it took you for me to figure that out.
i might have lied about needing you
but at least i didn't lie about loving you.
i hope you die, cancerstick
lodged in your throat.
- a girl who's become more than 'my girlfriend'
Triunghi amorosAzi s-a îndrăgostit de Mâine. Fără ca măcar să-l vadă. S-a îndrăgostit auzind doar ceea ce s-a spus despre el: "mâine va fi mai bine ca azi". Toată lumea spune lucrul ăsta. Aşa că Azi credea ca Mâine e un cavaler bun şi curajos cu armură strălucitoare.Triunghi amoros in Emotional More Like This
Mâine, Mâine, Mâine
Se gândea doar la el.Oare cum arată? Oare o să o iubească? Oare o să îl vadă? Asta se întreba Azi în fiecare zi. Şi întreba pe fiecare dacă l-au văzut pe Mâine. Toţi răspundeau că îl văd în fiecare zi. Atunci ea de ce nu-l putea vedea? Şi în toată goana ei după Mâine nu-l putea vedea pe Ieri.
Ieri o iubea pe Azi. Toată lumea spunea: "azi e mai bine ca ieri". Asta înseamnă că Azi era minunată. Şi încerca în fiecare zi să-i atragă ate
Monologul ploiiAi venit şi tu în sfârşit! Ce ţi-a luat atât? De şase ori ţi-am bătut în geam. N-ai văzut c-a anunţat şi la televizor că vin? În fine... Lasă asta. Zi-mi mai bine, de ce ai ieşit cu umbrela asta galbenă? N-am vorbit noi mereu de la egal la egal? Hai, fă-mi pe plac şi închide-o. Măcar de era albastră, nu de alta dar galbenul îmi aminteşte de Soare. Şi ştii şi tu prea bine că nu ne înţelegem. Şi acum îmi poartă pică pentru că am divorţat. Dar ce? E vina mea că el pleca întotdeauna seara de acasă? Mă săturasem să iau mereu cina singură şi să tremur noaptea de frig şi singurătate. E clar că avea ceva de ascuns de lipsea mereu, nu m-aş fi mirat să aflu că mă înşela cu cine ştie ce stea. Păcat de mine, erau mul&Monologul ploii in Emotional More Like This
Noi.O să încep prin a-ţi spune că nu mi-am dorit nici măcar o secundă asta... Nu spune că am avut de ales pentru că nu e aşa. Nu ştiu dacă eu m-am afundat în asta sau tu ai început să mă îngropi în tine de vie, dar în fond ce mai contează? Tot la acelaşi lucru vom ajunge. Sunt plină de tine până la gât. Mi-ai intrat în pantofi şi pe sub haine. Te-ai lipit de pielea mea şi nu te mai pot da jos. Sau nu vreau? Te agăţi de mine şi mă zgârii. Iar apoi îmi vindeci rănile. După care îmi faci altele. Şi tot aşa. Iar acum cuvintele se sufocă din cauza ta, începi să-mi curgi printre buze şi eu nu pot să respir. Mi-ai intrat în ochi, în urechi, în gură şi în nas. Acum totul arată, sună, gustă şi miroase ca tine. O să mă opresc aicNoi. in Emotional More Like This
Ne mintim.O bancă. Din când în când mă aşez pe ea, acolo unde mă aşteaptă amintirile. Mă întreabă "Dar el? El cum mai e?". Ce aş putea să le spun? Că nu ştiu? Că nu ştiu nimic de tine? Ce aş putea să le spun? În niciun caz adevărul. Aşa că le mint. Le spun că eşti bine. Că zâmbeşti, că eşti fericit. Şi cine ştie... poate aşa şi e, nu? Apoi le spun că le transmiţi salutări şi că le promiţi că le vei vizita mai des. Şi ele surâd trist. Nu pot să mă creadă. Nici măcar eu nu mă cred.Ne mintim. in Emotional More Like This
Şi apoi ele mă întreabă "Dar tu? Tu cum mai eşti?". Ce aş putea să le spun? Că nici eu nu ştiu? Că dacă nu ar fi să simt cum fluturii flămânzi de tine se zbat în mine aş crede că sunt complet goa
Scrisoare catre Alex IAlex, stau aici şi încerc să-ţi scriu, dar sfârşesc prin a desena jumătăţi de inimi, sferturi de petale şi suflete întregi. Deşi sufletele sunt mai mereu fărâmiţate. După ce le desenez, le colorez în negru. De ce? N-am idee. Închid ochii şi iau la întâmplare una din cariocile de pe masă. Mereu se nimereşte negru. Şi colorez în grabă. Depăşesc liniile. Mă enervez. Tai de şase ori după care mototolesc foaia. Privesc spre coşul de gunoi. "Dacă nimeresc, o să fie bine". N-am ratat niciodată. Şi totuşi, de ce nu e bine? Când ieri era? Când n-am pierdut nimic de ieri până azi? Când singurul lucru care s-a schimbat este numărul de bătăi de inimi?Scrisoare catre Alex I in Letters More Like This
Cred că mi-e dor să mă joc. Vreau să mă joc de-a v-aţi ascunselea cu florile şi restul lumii
FerestreCasa ei nu avea ferestre. Nimeni nu ştie dacă a avut vreodată. Se zvonea că ea însăşi construise casa în felul ăsta. Nimeni nu o mai văzuse de luni de zile, sau erau ani? Au şi uitat cum arăta. De multe ori au încercat să intre în casă dar de fiecare dată uşa era încuiată. Aşa că au renunţat la idee. Cu timpul nici măcar nu le-a mai păsat.Ferestre in Emotional More Like This
Toata lumea uitase de ea în afară de el. În fiecare zi dădea târcoale casei şi se oprea încercând să audă măcar un sunet. Dar era doar tăcere. Într-o zi însă a auzit cum râsul ei s-a spart de podeaua rece. Trăia. A bătut timid la uşă.
- Cine e? întrebă ea.
- Nimeni, răspunse el.
- Şi ce vrei?
Şi în acel moment uşa s-a deschis pentru prima dată în ultimii ani. El a intrat
Basme ModerneDe când sunt micăBasme Moderne in Free Verse More Like This
scotocesc în fiecare seară
în coşul de gunoi
după un alt
care să-mi spună povestea lui,
pentru că adevăratele basme
nu sunt scrise de fraţii Grimm
ci de florile respinse,
ţigările fumate până la filtru
şi scrisorile care nu ajung
Din când în când,
îmi găsesc din greşeală
sub coaja unei banane,
prefăcându-se că se înveleşte
Şi atunci ascult
cel mai frumos basm din lume,
căci deşi pare că se termină
cu fiecare prinţ care pleacă
înainte să salveze prinţesa,
ea învinge singură zmeii,
nu doarme mai mult de şase ore pe noapte,
mănâncă doar mere verzi
şi nu-şi pierde niciodată
în mâinile altora.
2219:38.22 in Emotional More Like This
22 de minute şi atât. Atât am să-l mai aştept. După, o să plec şi o să încerc să nu mă uit înapoi. Oamenii trec şi se uită lung la mine. Am rochia pătată şi pielea murdară. Văd în privirea lor cum se întreabă pe cine aştept. Dar ce rost are să le spun? Oricum nu le-ar păsa. Sunt doar curioşi şi ipocriţi.
Aştept de prea multă vreme...Mi-e teamă să mă uit la ceas, mi-e teamă că mai e prea puţin timp. Poate ar fi fost mai bine să plec...dar la cât am aşteptat ce mai contează 22 de minute în plus?
E frig şi frunzele cad. Cândva am fost şi eu o frunză. La cum arăt acum ştiu că nu s-ar zice. Acum nu mai sunt nimic. M-am uscat şi tălpile lui reci m-au călcat de atâtea ori încât m-au strivit. Iar vântul, care
Tic-Tac"Bună seara!Tic-Tac in Free Verse More Like This
Am venit şi eu
cu o pereche de ochi căprui
S-au stricat acum vreo şase luni
şi de-atunci nu vor nicicum
să mai vadă
Când am venit să-i iau înapoi
erau mai mari şi mai strălucitori
dar clipeau cu un zgomot
După ce i-am înşurubat la loc
mi-am dat seama
c-au fost reparaţi
de un ceasornicar
şi nu de mecanicul
la care mă duc o dată pe lună
Vedeam doar momente
alături de oameni care nu respirau,
dar pe care încă încercam
prin care mi-ar fi plăcut
IntersectiiAlex, te-ai gândit vreodată că poate noi suntem cei care greşesc?Intersectii in Emotional More Like This
Că poate am greşit intersecţia? Că poate asta e intersecţia în care regula principală este: încalcă regulile? Ce ne facem când noi de fapt căutăm intersecţia în care regulile sunt respectate? Intersecţia în care ne este locul de fapt?
Şi iată-ne. Iată-ne în intersecţia asta unde la semaforul aşteptării toate sufletele accelerează. Unde parcările sunt goale, pentru că sufletele se opresc la marginea trotuarului. Unde în sensurile giratorii au prioritate cei din partea dreaptă pentru că acolo cred ei că se află inima. O intersecţie unde nu există amenzi pentru viteză prea mare, unde semnele de stop înseamnă "continuă să mergi", unde indicatorul de interzis înseamnă "bine ai venit",
My FacadeMy outward facade conceals my true twisted self.My Facade in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The world believes I have inteligence and wealth.
Burdens are on my shoudlers that are unseen by many eyes.
I have well learned to wear my perfect disguise.
A secret lies behind my lips that's covered with a smile.
I have practiced hiding my inner feelings for a while.
Pains of the past are behind my carved mask.
I am becoming a professional at my special task.
I dare not look at the person I have become.
The truth fills my mind and I am now numb.
I stare at the corrupted thing I am now.
There is no audiece so I can take a bow.
Reality freezes my soul at the thought of the truth.
I wish I could burn all the rotten proof.
I am not longer really me.
I am lost to the person I never wanted to be.
This is MeA dreamer.This is Me in Free Verse More Like This
A girl who sings in the rain.
Someone who people often overlook, but when they know her they love her.
A person who laughs whole-hearted.
Someone who knows the answer to a question, but is afraid it's wrong.
A young women who's emotions act like a river.
One minute calm and flowing then rushing and rapide.
A friend once told her she is kind, sweet, and smart.
A person who imagens so many things and wishes they were real.
Her goal is to be a person who can change people's life for the better.
Someone who can be a light in the dark.
Someone once told her if the world lived by your standards it would be a better place.
And she is so much more and I hope one day she cn see that.
She's EverythingI try to forget about her.She's Everything in Free Verse More Like This
My friends are always teasing me about dating a girl like her.
But she's everything to me.
She's the one who understands the real me and still loves me.
When I'm with my friends she's all I can think about.
The tell me to stop daydreaming.
But she's constantly on my thoughts.
Sometimes I wonder how I ever deserve her.
I hope I can learn to deserve her...
Show ThemKeep your head up, don't look back.Show Them in Free Verse More Like This
Don't let them see they've hurt you.
You can cry in your room when your all alone.
If you show pain they win this game.
You can't give them the satisfaction of winning.
Hold tight with all your might.
Show them you'll put up a fight.
Just smile at them and then walk away.
One day they might win the battle but not today.
Yellow RosesKyra glanced at the calender. She wished it was any other than Feburary 14th. It wasn't that she didn't love chocolates, cards, hearts, and flowers. Valentine's Day was only for couples. A day to celebrate love. Something she had never had. Boys never glanced her way. She wasn't one of the pretty girls and she knew she never would be. There had been one boy she had danced with at a church dance with, but she hadn't seen him for a while. She knew today she would be sitting at home watching romantic comedies and wishing she had someone special. Kyra went down stairs and put on a movie called Something Borrowed. Kyra let out a small sigh. She was at the best part when the doorbell rang. "Coming!" she shouted. She opened the door and at that moment her whole day had changed. "John?" she asked full of confusion, "What are you doing here?" "I came to bring you these." he replied. He pulled out 11 yellow roses. Kyra's heart dropped. Yellow roses meant only friends... "Oh thanks." she mumbled.Yellow Roses in Settings More Like This
To FlyHer dream was to fly.To Fly in Free Verse More Like This
To excape from the ground where her insecurities lay.
A place where she would be free.
In the sky no one could hold her back, she would be her own master.
To be able to see the world from a new perscetive.
To live amoung the birds, they would never judge her.
From a distance someone called her name.
She knew if she could fly her life would never be the same.
She pondered on the thought.
One day she would...
The Real MeThe real me likes dancing in the rain.The Real Me in Free Verse More Like This
The real me crys when she's in pain.
The real me wishes to belong.
And has wanted to belong for so long.
The real me hopes to find love.
The real me wants to find people who won't judge her.
The real me loves writing poetry.
The real me is silly and crazy.
The real me loves to laugh.
The real me loves to read and dream about distant places.
The real me is quiet but kind.
The real me likes to go on DA in my spare time.
The real me hopes to find someone to except me fot me...
Your the GirlYour the girl who sits in the back of his chemistry class.Your the Girl in Free Verse More Like This
He doesn't even know your name.
You wish he would just look ur way or talked to you.
Even just for a day.
But the problem is he's stuck in his own perfect world where people on the outside don't matter.
Your friends tell your there are other fish in the see.
You think if only he wanter me.
You try everything to get this attention.
You change your clothes and your hair.
You laugh and pretend to be really happy it doesn't work.
You start to give up and go back to your old life.
You guess everything will be all right.
You have play coming up and you have a solo part.
Your a little nervous but can't wait to start.
It's opening night, your so eyes are shinning like the stars in the night sky.
It's finally your turn to shine.
You begin to sing.
A sweet, gentle voice rings out.
This the best night of your life that you've been dreaminng about.
The play is over everone congratulates you.
Then he walks up to you.
"Railey, was amazing I
QuoteSometimes the most hurtful names we call someone are the names we call ourselvesQuote in Free Verse More Like This
DA CommentsMake my day.DA Comments in Free Verse More Like This
Make me look at my art in a whole new way.
Make me smile.
Make my art worth while.
Make me start to find the real me.
Tell me I'm not alone.
Show that I'm unique and that I'm not just another clone.
Make me feel like I belong.
People actually care enough to ask what's wrong.
Keep commenting! It may change someone's day
Lackland"Drop it,"Lackland in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"You drop it,"
"I'm the one with the gun, missy,"
"Yeah, and your jugular's right under my knife," I press a little harder, showing him how much I mean it.
"Do I look infected to you?"
"Never was much for killing kids," He mutters, lowering the shotgun he'd had trained on my chest. He drops it carefully and nudges it towards me with one foot.
"I'm not a kid," I tell himnot whining, just telling. I don't pick up the shotgun, just kick it a little farther away from him. Not as if I've ever known how to handle a gun, anyway. I'm more likely to shoot my foot off before I hit anything.
After a few second's consideration, I take my knife from his throat. I don't think I could kill him, anyway, and he seems much more friendly without his gun. "My name's S"
"Nono names," he cuts across my introduction. "Doesn't matter who you are, does it?"
"Where're you from?" Again, he overrides me, but he does it in an amiable
Cracked"I'm waiting, Miss Dickinson. Waiting, waiting, waiting," I say it all in a singsong voice and then dissolve into giggles because somehow the made up tune makes the laughter bubble up in my chest like champagne and I'm thinking of the time I got drunk on New Years and beat the girl I loved at gin and later poker even though the cards spun a little bit in my vision.Cracked in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"But I played 'em close to my chest," I smile up at the sky and am rewarded with a fat raindrop hitting me square in the eye and then another and another and I open my mouth and I imagine myself drinking the whole sky and being filled with blue.
It wasn't New Years this year. It was last year.
"I was happy last year,"
Emily Dickinson told me that death was on his way, but he's late. And I guess my schedule's not as full as hers, because I can and I have come to a full and complete stop, just like a train or a bus and then (and only then) am I allowed to safely exit. Only I've jumped out of moving vehicles befor
DancingI can't dance, Dreamgirl. Did you know that?Dancing in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I think Novembers will always hurt the most, unless maybe I meet you on the seventh or the fifth or your birthday falls around that time. That might be okay, I think. But I will always think differently in November.
Explain this, please:
It is December and cold and bright and perfect. It smells like woodsmoke and snow in the clouds and when she steps outside, she takes a deep, deep breath. But the air is too cold for her scarred insides and she starts to cough uncontrollably. Why doesn't she remember that cold air makes her lungs tight?
Maybe she pretends not to remember. Or maybe she is preoccupied because she is thinking of last month and how she can't breathe. But it was warm in November. Warmer than last year. The scars were quieter, but that could have been because of you, actually.
She draws a second, careful breath and cinches her coat more tightly around her. She glares sullenly at the cheery winter sky and it glows back, making h
Conversations in the Rain"At least put up your umbrella. Seriouslyyou'll catch your death out here,"Conversations in the Rain in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I turn to look at her, give her a withering look, and turn away. I lift and relax my shoulder blades, settling my jacket more snugly about me. The raindrops that cling to the water-resistant fabric scatter with the movement and, for a moment, I'm surrounded by a silvery halo. Then the little droplets fall and burst against the pavement at my feet, and the moment's gone.
There's an umbrella in my pack, of course. I should use it, probably. It's an old wives' tale that getting cold and wet will make you sick, but I'd never been able to convince her of that. She was always stubborn that way.
She frowns disapprovingly now. "I'm not impressed by this, you know. I don't know what you think you're doing, but we both know you should get inside,"
I look at the ground for a second. The rain has plastered my hair to my face and neck, and when I look up, she reaches out to peel an errant curl from where it's settled
I Remember MeShe is only eighteen and the world has never failed her. Her smile is wide, open-mouthed and dimpled. And when she laughsGod, when she laughsit's a free, melodic thing, unrestrained, like pealing bells. It bubbles out of her, all golden curls, just like the lion's mane that ranges wildly around her eyes. She is so happy, so lively. So alive.I Remember Me in Emotional More Like This
She is nineteen and her small hands shake with something that is panic and excitement and something a great deal more. She is in love and suddenly her world is narrowed to one wild, beautiful girl and her kisses and her smile. Baby girl. Nobody has ever called her that. Nobody has ever cared for her in that way, and she is in love with the way she is lovedso wholly and completely and with such overwhelming passion.
There is a small part of her that is convinced that this cannot be real, that maybe this cannot last. But she tries to push that part of her away. How can she think that when there is a ring and a promise
DreamgirlDear Dreamgirl,Dreamgirl in Letters More Like This
You don't know it yet, but you might save my life.
You are taller than I am and your hands are long so that they fold over mine. Your
mouth is full and real and made for smiling and your eyes are sharp because you see
and kind because you pretend not to.
Sometimes, when I'm walking down the street, I see somebody in a crisp dress uniform
or carefully groomed fatigues and my stomach bottoms out. I want to cry, but I don't,
because I swear to God nobody will ever see me cry ever again.
I might hold your hand too tightly and put my face into your neck, because the warm
scent of you drifts over your sensible shoulders and everything that was spiraling
away will spin back into place
In the ugly, scarred parts of me, the parts that I don't like to show anybody,
there'll be a sliver of coal-black disbelief. You're going to leave me, too. You will.
You'll walk away and you'll never look back, just like she did. And I'll be alone
again and more broken than
TrueI lost everything I was, true.True in Free Verse More Like This
But all I was
I was for you.
I wish you knew
How I still cry
To think of you
SmokeI don't know if it's the smoke in my lungs or your lips on mine, but I swear I am floating in my own skin, so close to drifting away, just like the gray haze that spirals towards the ceilingSmoke in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
But you hold me to you, deliciously too tight, as if you feel me falling away
And with my hands locked around your wrists and the amber scent of you deep in my chest, I know I would not leave you.
I will never leave you
The mist is cool as it prickles over my skin, but it warms to the blood tumbling through the translucent blue veins of my wrists.
The scent is sharper than I remember, harsh and biting, as though the amber curves are turning to razor blades, sharp and lethal and warning you away.
I anoint the hollows beneath my ears and the sharp points of my clavicle with my fingertips and I imagine that she is still holding me too tightly, and so I am almost safe.
Because there are lines drawn into me that you dare not cross, and because there are some promises I still keep.
And I am kee
Inside OutIt is like my skin cannot contain meInside Out in Free Verse More Like This
Like every fear and every secret
Churns and hammers and rages
Just beneath my shoulder blades
And the worn-out hollow
At the base of my throat
And I am stretched so thin
That only a fragile membrane
Stands between my heart
And how its every beat would be written
Into the translucent skin of my wrists
If it weren't so firmly caged behind my ribs,
If I hadn't already made that mistake
Of wearing my heart on my shirtsleeves once before.
I think sometimes
That I might be tearing already
Unraveling at those very seams
That I'm trying my hardest to hold together
So that when you ask me
If there's something wrong,
I'm beginning to indulge
In a short pause where
I don't meet your eyes.
I look down instead,
And for a brief moment,
I let that small, private pain
Pass across my face and
Press against my lips
I'll push it back, though
Because I need to prove to myself
That my skin is not so fragile as it seems
That I'm not as vulnerable as I feel
That I am capa
Stone"You have a stone in your heart,"Stone in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
That rouses me somewhat. I look up from my book and out the window at the gray fog that's settled over everything like wet cotton. I imagine breathing it, letting it fill my lungs with gray. All at once, the room is suffocating and I push the window open and the cool air tumbles in and ruffles the pages of my book so that I lose my place.
The spell of the story unravels and some part of me aches to know that the sort of love that exists in the storybooks is never true.
She loves the lines of him.
"Are you listening?"
" Yes," I say without much conviction.
Rainwater pools on the windowsill.
"You you have a stone in your heart,"
I've waited a long time to show these flowers how pretty you are.
"Yes," I trace circles on the white laminate with a fingertip.
"Most days you can ignore it. And there are even some people who can make it lighter. But it always comes back. In the end it It always comes back,"
I should have
What is RhythmThe movement of tiny feet runningWhat is Rhythm in Free Verse More Like This
Like little drums drumming
A sound that's
In sync, off beat
Make me feel the rhythm and believe
That these sounds aren't just sounds
They're all around
Coursing through our veins
They feel our pain
Our heart beat
Beats off key and still ring free
As it meshes with loved ones
And hurt ones
Searching for a meaning
And for a meal
To bring to their families and feel
Take them this song on a platter and say
This is yours
Envision it as you wish as you hope as you dream
Of things unknown
Like the feeling of hunger as your insides cry out
"Where is the music?!"
Why hasn't it found us
And graced us
And placed us
Where we need to grow
The place where cracks are about
They sneak in and tear out
And rip up
You see doubt coursing and waving
It's pride in your face
Only to replace and re-taste
Fear and crucifixion
This is rhythm
The breaths taken to stay alive
The sweat wasted to strive
Senseless Ice cream RageI always wished to throw my ice creamSenseless Ice cream Rage in Free Verse More Like This
Thrust it into the air
Watch as it makes contact
And me without a care
As my victim ponders
As he licks sugar off his face
What action he provided
To deserve a sticky fate
I would stare at my empty cone
Morn the lack of sweets
I'd feel my empty pocket
My joy wasted on the street
Icy sugar is too precious
My dollars are too few
So I'll use something yucky
When I release my rage on you
Even I can flyI had a wondrous plan todayEven I can fly in Free Verse More Like This
To take your breath away
But life without breath is pointless
Breath without life is a waste
Spin me around
Without your touch
Help me find our place
What's that you say?
The air is stale
We can not walk
My mind is pale
Why must we follow a pattern
Why must we follow a rhyme
Were drawn for us
They were drawn for me
To follow and to consume
They consume me
As I consume them
That set the score
That shake us up
We can fly
Take these notions
Make them shine
Throw it out
"we are the ones, this day is ours"
Yet embrace them
The critics are meant to critique
So what am I saying?
My mind may be pale
But my soul is bright and pure
and even I
Have learned to fly
This StormIts days like these that remind meThis Storm in Free Verse More Like This
Minus the laughter
Same old rain
And ironically I hear it
Each drop holds a memory
So cold yet
Somehow it warms me
It's thoughts like these that haunt me
Wind brings them back to life
And outside they act like angels
Either way they get inside
bolts of on fire
catch them catch them
Its days like these I remember
Standing in hell
Pleading for rain
Then it comes
And brings its friends
Stay and watch
Hear the chorus
Is this the end?
Look At MeJust another breathLook At Me in Free Verse More Like This
Among the living
Another backwards step
Towards the ending
but do not lock
but hold no meaning
Time is slipping through
the spaces in your hands
Moments quickly lost
Empty words forgot
This routine is killing
anything you'll ever be
Just another breath
Look. At. Me.
GoodbyeHow Does one take back an actGoodbye in Free Verse More Like This
How does one take back their words
Shall I scream it so loud
Even the sunrise quivers and hides
Shall I sing it in a song
A song so powerful
Every mocking bird that hears my chorus will forever utter your name
Because the words, the act, the feeling
That I wish I wanted to forget
Is the most powerful occurrence of all
Of trust, of passion, of commitment
Attempting to counteract one
Ungodly, unholy, unforgivable word
BreatheJust onceBreathe in Free Verse More Like This
Not for me
No, never act for me
But exhale the worry and the thoughts
That penetrate the only innocent crevasses
Of your wondrous wandering mind
Then your body reacts
As your soul cries for peace
Exhale every thought of me
And every misspelled word
I never promised to be perfect
And the sky never told you it wouldn't lie
But it whispered every one of my secrets
As you wrote them on your palms
And fell down in shame
Like a perfect withering leaf
Let them go
His every word
Spoken like a true man
One I could never be
One you never wanted me to be
Then Take this
Every one of my thoughts to you
Every fucking time I've tried to get close to you
I'm not complaining
I'm not ranting
I'm not even hammering the nails
Into the coffin of what we were
It's just a girl
Asking you to breath
But not for me
Never for me
Upward WishesSleepless nightsUpward Wishes in Free Verse More Like This
Remind me of you
Those seven days
That 6am phone call
A fight for life
Your memory so strong
A community together
Sharing a family's tears
All to remember and all to hold dear
A life greatly loved
So cherished and rare
Many lives saved
Just because you were there
My words can't convey
How much you're still loved
And it's only been seven months
I smile at the jokes
You and the angels must make
Happy birthday to you
I hope they baked you a cake
WordsMy wordsWords in Free Verse More Like This
Might be someone's other
As they utter
Sounds that hold no meaning
Until waves grace the ears
The receivers become retrievers
Taking every sentence
And adding a label
Like thieves under the sun
They hold no shame
To them this game
A desire to
Conspire and re-inspire
The sheep and the deliverer
Simple pawns simple task
Words no longer a friend
More like someone you see once a year
And hide the fear
Not ear to ear
But still just as fake
Like constant patter on a tin roof
I hold my own
Prints were here before me
Huge compared to my tiny feet
Grow through what I write and
I may be at a giant's feet
But I am not too small to preach
If you were hereYou know, if you were here next to me in bedIf you were here in Free Verse More Like This
I would trace your nose down to your mouth
with my finger,
I would lean forward and kiss you,
maybe giggle a little afterwards
like a school girl,
I think I would kiss you
with my eyes closed
and my lips almost -
shaped as a smile
afterwards I would rest my head,
right there on your chest
below your shoulder
I would let you hold me
while telling me stories
and I would laugh with you,
whenever I felt like it, I would trace
some part of you
and kiss it again and again
just because I could.
Skipping beatsYou casually say you miss me while ISkipping beats in Free Verse More Like This
mumble and stumble
while showing a facade of indifference
inbetween skipping beats.
Wind sweptI'm raging against the wind,Wind swept in Free Verse More Like This
I need someone
to take my hand - hold me down,
I'm afraid to be swept away,
far from everything I love,
I'm as light as a feather,
and if I just stand on my toes
the wind will take me,
the wind howls, the wind yells,
I exhaust myself with it,
no one is there to protect me
from the wind,
the echoes inside my ribcage,
the only thing anchoring me
is the promise
of not flying away - yet.
Moon wondersSometimes I wonder if you think of meMoon wonders in Free Verse More Like This
equally much as I think of you,
if you too look up the moon knowing
that I see the same,
like we weren't an ocean apart
but neighbours, wall to wall.
Want to weave a fantasy worldI want to build forts from sheetsWant to weave a fantasy world in Free Verse More Like This
(I was never allowed)
in your room and let you find me
when you get home,
I want to giggle all night
with a lamp and a comic or story,
maybe with some shadow play,
in a tent - indoors,
I want to make snow angels
in the middle of the night,
because I can - it has snowed,
I want to see a unicorn
and let her lay her head
in my lap - I wouldn't tell anyone
(I might whisper),
I want to dance around
in the rain, in the snow,
in the moment
and hear you laugh - so close,
I want to build castles
and be swept away by
evil but kind hearted princes
I want to jump in piles of leaves
and make them fly far -
just like birds,
I want to believe in fairies
that there's something
behind the curtain that I can't see,
I want the fairytales,
forever and a thousand nights more.
F A L LA moist scent flies over the streets,F A L L in Free Verse More Like This
the fragile gold fall, get caught
in the winds,
a nervous hand clutches another,
gloveless and warm
despite the rain,
the sky paints with grey,
while the asphalt points the way
to Oz; I think it's fall.
StandardsI can't live up to the standards you have,Standards in Free Verse More Like This
I can't be super skinny
or have long flowing hair
or understand your every wink
or follow your intelligence
but I can
comfort like the summer rain
or discuss trivial things deeply
or bake the best chocolate muffins
or lose every time in chess,
just because I don't know how to win.
I'm not standard or normal,
but I can be cliché
so love me for who I am
or don't bother
- to ever love me at all.
ElephantHow can you break the chainsElephant in Free Verse More Like This
that hold you down,
how can you untie the knots
on the ropes,
when you really want to
but is just so used to
that you don't bat an eye
when it suddenly constrains you,
how can you make yourself
take that giant leap,
how can you force yourself
to dare and trust love,
when you're buried deep.
DurereMi-e scârbă de modul lor negativ de a brava şi de ipocrizia lor.Durere in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Nu îi pot ajuta cu nimic pentru că suferă de prostie crasă şi nu pot înţelege inteligenţa.
Distrug raţiunea şi aduc rasa umană într-un declin accelerat.
Sunt ignoranţi faţă de tot ce e bun, paşnic si frumos, distrungându-i pe cei adevăraţi.
Avem?Stau pe treptele adolescenţeiAvem? in Free Verse More Like This
De vorbă cu soarele,
Alături de frunzele care
Îşi foşnesc sfârşitul.
În ochiul de apă,
Mă văd pe mine,
Toţi avem aceeaşi soartă?
Oaza pustieAcolo unde soarele sărută pământul,Oaza pustie in Concrete Poetry More Like This
marea înghite norii,
şi vara apusul îngheaţă.
Locul în care am rămas
din vremea sărutului ars.
Unde stropii de melancolie
uneori umplu oaza pustie.
Azi rostesc la revedere
ţinutului de tăcere.
Îţi părăsesc amintirea
pentru-a căuta iubirea.
EliberarePrivea în depărtare de câteva minute. Ochii lui albaştri se contopeau cu marea turcoaz.Eliberare in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
- Te iubesc, spuse el cu o voce de gheaţă ce îi caracteriza atât de bine firea.
Ea îl fixă cu privirea câteva secunde. El parcă se transformase într-o statuie. Apoi, cu frunte senină şi ochi scânteietori, ea îi spuse:
- Eu nu te mai iubesc.
Şi un zâmbet îi apăru pe faţă ca şi cum ar fi scăpat de o povară de pe umeri...
RoxanneParcă şi-ar construi o cochilie în jurul său.Roxanne in Sketches More Like This
Schimbările inevitabile o înnebunesc.
În general preferă să lase totul în uitare.
Când realitatea e prea crudă,
Începe o viaţă nouă.
Ai zice că suferă de amnezie...
SicknessEşti un pion pe tabla ei de şah, băiete, iar ea mă învinge cu o eşarfă aurie de mătase legată la ochi.Sickness in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Se foloseşte de el şi mă zdrobeşte cu sânge rece, ca şi cum aş fi un nimic. El nu ştie încă în ce tornadă s-a implicat. Dansează orb - pe ritmul bătut de ea - dansul nostru pentru supremaţie. Încerc să o fac să admită că trişează, dar degeaba. Îmi râde în faţă cu dispreţ mascat stângaci de o inocenţă prefăcută.
Oare el va realiza vreodată?
Seara, uneoriSeara, când mă duc la culcare, cad pe gânduri pentru ore bune. Uneori mă sperii atât de tare încât trebuie sa îl strig pe Dor. De obicei mă aude şi vine repede zburând pe coaja lui de portocală.Seara, uneori in Short Stories More Like This
Îmi spune să am încredere în el şi să îmi închid ochii încet. Se duce sub patul meu, taie o bucată din placa de lemn şi îmi decupează salteaua. Apoi îmi desface grijuliu şireturile de la spate şi dă la o parte toate oasele. Meştereşte acolo vreo zece minute, mă face să cânt o melodie din mp3-ul de sub muşchi - "I dont like Mondays" -, după care mai apasă vreo trei butoane, iar eu încep să strig câteva versuri - "I wanna shoot the whole day down".
În vreun sfert de oră sunt gata, din nou fericită, fără griji, pregătită de culcare, şi Dor pleacă liniş
AnnaAnna wants. What does she want? She doesn't know that yet.Anna in Short Stories More Like This
But she'd like to have a colourful dress or a light blue dress. She loves blue. And she loves candies. So her perfect dress should be blue, with orange lolipops drawn on it. It would be awesome.
Anna thinks the moon is made of cheese. Her friends told her that. And she believed. 'She's such an innocent girl!' her parents said. Since her friends told her that, she wants to become a spaceman, go to the Moon, then come back home and feed her mice. Anna thinks mice are cute and kind; she hopes that one day she will become a little mouse girl and she will meet Mikey Mouse or Jerry. But I think she preffers to meet Jerry ('Jerry runs faster than Mikey Mouse and he's intelligent' she said one day while she was watching Mikey Mouse)