it feels like everything's caving in on my spirit.used
is a word with multiple meanings.
it can mean
all the life sucked out of you.
it can mean
you've wasted away from so much
pressure, a hand you weren't given.
it can mean
you take a giant leap of faith
only to fall to your icy plunge,
into the splash you go.
i don't lke being used.
it's not fun.
you think for so long,
look, this will finally happen
and then it does
when you least expect,
and you feel like shit afterwards.
because you know you're
you know it and
you don't fight it.
i'm not pitying myself,
i'm pitying the girls that deal
with this same problem,
we take what we get
and sometimes what we get
isn't what we want.
maybe it is in some senses,
but after it's all said and done,
it's not what it was
supposed to feel like.
it's almost as if all the
air has been drained from
my lungs, heaving, i'm frightened
by how this thing has been
ruined, bursted to pieces, blown
to smithereens, broken.
but is it?
or are you just pretending it is
so you don't have to deal with
fairy tales are like real life except no one dies.pretending is somethingfairy tales are like real life except no one dies. in Free Verse More Like This
you can only do for so long.
i am tired of pretending.
i wish the world knew
how sick i am of it already.
the days are long, quiet,
boiling sunshine scars
flesh like cigarette burns.
wind whistles like a
mockingbird that's finally
gotten his own song but
is too shy to sing it,
trees rustle and leaves
muffle in the cacophony
of the world's perpetually
profuse state of sad.
pencil tips snap, crack like
the bones of lost brethren,
scorned even through the
haven we used to call home.
the words etched fluidly
in my veins, ink spewed
blue before oxidation
has repercussions only
when there's affirmation.
i wish you knew how badly
this pretending makes me
feel, strangled by the
dull touch of lead in
the lungs of the breathless,
tears of the hopeless
stain mattresses of
an effervescent childhood.
we cannot hope any longer.
we can only pray that
the pretending will stop
and that you'll look
at the spattered pieces
of notebook sheets
ever so slightly littering
the ground y
it's going to be okay. it's all going to be okay.i don't know why it's beenit's going to be okay. it's all going to be okay. in Free Verse More Like This
so long since i've written a
poem but i have subject matter
to write about as of now.
i was sad. you were there.
you told me i was beautiful.
"we need you, i need you."
it's going to be okay.
"just breathe for me. i'm here.
you'll always be safe with me.
i'll always be here for you."
those words stings because those
were the exact same things she
always said and where is she now.
it's going to be okay.
you tried to assuage my tears,
placate me, pacify me, pretend
you love me more than anyone else
just in this moment, why do you
insist on being so nice to me.
"because i care more about you
than anyone else. i want you
to be in my life for a very long time."
what the hell is that supposed to mean.
it's going to be okay.
"love you." but then you called me
the wrong name, whoops, intended
for your girlfriend, not for me,
stupidly i thought you may have been
falling but apparently we've both
fallen too far to stop already.
don't hold my hand if you love her more.
constant longing, forever past.minutes turned intoconstant longing, forever past. in Free Verse More Like This
hours turned into
days turned into
weeks turned into
months without you.
i didn't think that
i could do it. really.
i thought it would
be over, disappeared.
i thought i would be
decimated, and i
started out that way.
but now i must heal
the wounds that i
faced every time i
saw yours, you're so
beautiful on the
outside but on the
inside, you're a
monster, never rest.
you look at me like
what we had never
existed, and quite
frankly, i'm okay
with just that. i'd
rather you view me
instead of hatred.
all this time has
gone by so quickly,
do you remember all
those good times that
we made together?
nostalgia eludes me,
because i don't.
i remember only the
bad things, the
fights, the shouting
matches, the days
you would force your
hand onto mine to
avoid my self-injury,
those days you nearly
cried, but never did.
i remember only when
we weren't, but
at the same time,
this is where we were.
this is who we were.
this is what we were.
a pencil lacking lead is just like an open wound.she doesn't understand the beautya pencil lacking lead is just like an open wound. in Free Verse More Like This
that she's capable of. she can figment
the most beautiful picture and not
even try, her mind is a blank canvas
and her thoughts are like the medium.
swish and splash the red paint, blue,
oxidize me with your catatonic breath,
subtle pencil marks like the veins
that pattern your milky, flawed flesh.
hide behind your eraser shavings, you
always doubt yourself too much, you're
incapable of making a mistake, now.
sweetness, caress this empty sheet of
paper with your carefully chosen
words and help me heal the insulting
that had been caused from all injury.
take your pen and etch indelible phrases
into your aphoristic lifestyle, you
live by age-old techniques but you've
got a modern soul, i want you to wrap
me in your mosaic smiles again. keep
the crying coming, tears are the perfect
base for watercolors. you might be
paranoid but i should inform you that
i am okay. just as long as your sketches
continue to swarm me, encase me with
their warmness and light,
anonymous.i don't really knowanonymous. in Free Verse More Like This
how i got here.
it's all a blur
from the time i
was able to think
about who i
i never got why i'm
why i don't know
how to be
my exterior may
but i sure don't
i've been gone
for a really long time.
it's not me that
they see when they
that I pretend to
it's my vacated
carcass that is already
hollow and sad.
every trivial thought i
have echoes and
bounces off the
walls of my shell.
i'm just a poster child
for the underdog in all
of us losers.
i'm not a poser,
i'm just trying to get by
without getting hurt.
it's a novel idea
if you think real hard.
i guess i'm a cadaver.
i'm only a figment
i created this
sense of being tough
so people would give
me more respect.
but it backfired
a girl who begs
for someone to
to be honest,
my existence isn't
none of ours is.
we're just here
if i had a different name.they wouldn't look at meif i had a different name. in Free Verse More Like This
any differently than if
my name were amory, that's
literally meaning "loved one"
and i'm not one to be loved.
even if i was more beautiful
than the most spacious of seas
my name is still not orabelle
or anything that pretty.
tell me that i'm practically
imperfect, i'm not as delicate
as a lorelei, i'm not tempting
enough, call me anything.
i'm not as fair as a finley or
as shimmering as a soleil, but
i can be as bleak as a bronwyn
and dark as delia as if you
address me as anything else.
let me be audrey, an orville,
ezekiel, let me be strong in
how often i'm called because
frankly, i'm diminutive, tiny
and small in comparison to
all of these names, am i
really quite as dear as you say?
if i were adaliah i could leave
myself parched, deprive me of
any identity i claim to have.
if i were talullah i could drown
myself in my own sorrows because
i'd never know the truth anyway.
even if i were seraphine, i'd still
burn away in this hell of a life,
fire cannot be foug
something's gone but i'm too tired to look for it.fluidity.something's gone but i'm too tired to look for it. in Free Verse More Like This
that's all it is.
where some people
let their words be
smooth, i halt mine
with awkward breath
marks and unnecessary
punctuation. i lack
to be eloquent
and to be well read
are two completely
i am not pedantic.
i just like words
and use them even
if they don't fit.
because i don't have
i'm choppy, brittle,
snappy words like
bubble wrap, quick
and crunchy like
chopsticks on a
keyboard, i can't
use proper metaphors,
for that would
defeat the purpose
of my piece. why
would i change
i can easily lose
i don't care how
the words get out
just as long as
they spit out
a reminiscent poem about nothing and everything.a breath can mean so much more.a reminiscent poem about nothing and everything. in Free Verse More Like This
a fear keeps me from catching it.
actually, it's more than fear.
an enigma possesses me like the strongest gale.
avid dreaming is destroyed by nightmares.
bound to be broken sooner or later.
breathe your lifeblood into me.
can you help me?
can't you help me?
cancerous thoughts spread like wildfire.
cold hands don't hold mine anymore.
cough up blood to keep from choking.
crying isn't optional--it's recreational.
dancing thoughts evade me like fairytales.
don't you want to call me?
don't you want to keep me?
don't you want to save me?
doubt is the only thing keeping you from answering.
each teardrop is a story.
even the bad ones.
even the good ones.
even the ones about you.
fly far away to avoid me, sure.
friends and fiends are closer than you think.
go back to how it used to be.
grow a bit of hope in your soul.
half of the memories are about you.
half of the memories are craving you.
how i miss you.
how i miss you holdi
mended.torn and shattered,mended. in Free Verse More Like This
bruised and battered,
sick as hell, not
dead, not well, you
let me live vicariously
through all your precious
misery, i wish you
let me live in you
after what i did to you.
i thought the reason
for your changing season
was unrequited, love
ignited deep within
a hatred strong, although
i loved you all along.
piece the pages
this stormy weather.
whether or not we
try to hide, this
feeling cannot be
denied, i've tried
so hard to disappear
but i want attention
when you're near.
i fear you'll hear
a sketchy phrase
in which awareness,
i will raise my hand
above and make notice
to the one i love
that i am better
all the while, and
they're the reason
i will smile.
i saw your face, your
eyes they glimmer with
the most iridescent
shimmer, thinner lips
and wider hips,
unshakable and breakable
blossomed in the dips.
when my tears fall like
shedding blood, they're
near as heavy as a
thud, but you, my doll,
wipe them away and wish
for me a better day
Look At My Palms, They Shake Like My Current WorldMy veins? They bleed ink,Look At My Palms, They Shake Like My Current World in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Thick, black, translucent blood.
The flowing won't stop.
Sometimes, I worry
My oxygen intake will
Falter and shut down.
I have night terrors
And wake up suffocating,
Sleep? A luxury.
I can't afford to waste it
Once I'm getting it.
Over in my world of sad,
There's too much pressure.
It's caving into me, my
Lungs and cavity.
Anymore, a cadaver
Behind curls of my dead skin.
By imagination, time
Is just an object.
Why should I follow
When I can barely keep my
Own head from falling?
We Carry OnThe tears don't stop, but we keep on livingWe Carry On in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
The scars are back, but keep on healing
Nothing will be the same
Are you crazy?
From this we are strong, if not stronger
This was special, never been around before
True, but that makes it all the more precious to hold on to
Don't let this ruin your heart
I don't know what to do know
Neither do I. Until I thought back on it
And a few things came to mind
I am not afraid to keep on living
The future is bulletproof
So long and goodnight
We carry on
China X Reader -FinalsYour POVChina X Reader -Finals in Romance More Like This
It was the last period of long anticipated Fraiday as you sat in your Advanced World History class. You were doodling when you should have been paying attention.
“Miss _____” your teacher barked, snapping you out of your doodle-filled wonderland.
“Since you are not making any attempt to listen to my lesson, you must already know the year in which Hong Kong gain sovereignty from Britain and was returned to China. So would you please be ever so kind as to enlighten the rest of the class.”
The teacher, along with the rest of your class stared at you waiting for an answer.
“Uh…1997?” you stammered.
“Well, you must be paying more attention than you and I both think.” Your teacher then continued lecturing.
Honestly, the only reason you knew that was because of your Chinese friend Yao. He really missed his homeland so you listened to him whenever he ranted about the culture and history of China. Actu
EnglnadxReader: Best Movie Night EverYou lay on the couch in your living room, foot propped up by three pillows, as you heard a knock at your front door. You haven’t been able to brush your hair or anything all day due to a lack of mobility, so you didn’t really want anyone to see you.EnglnadxReader: Best Movie Night Ever in Romance More Like This
However you knew exactly who was at the door and also that there was no stopping them from coming in anyway.
“It’s open!” you screamed from your current position.
All of a sudden, a teary-eyed Italian rushed up to you and hugged you tightly.
“Mama mia _____! I had no idea you were hurt this bad! I’m sorry.” Rambled the young man.
“ITALY! Get avay from _____ before you cause more damage!” shouted the tall German following Italy into your room.
“It’s okay Germany. He means no harm.” You say to your blonde friend as Italy continued to smother you in a hug.
“Werr, he didn’t mean any harm the first time, and now your reg is bro
What the Sick World Wants You to Believe?As we all know from countless storiesWhat the Sick World Wants You to Believe? in Free Verse More Like This
appearanc is decieving.
The subject has been discussed
time and time again.
But my opiniom is still worth it.
The nicest person isn't always the
epitome of grace and beauty.
Your shock at this point
Because know you wish
you hadn't spat at that person
when they were knocked down.
Evil isn't going to be
ugly and wretched every time.
Now your hatered for the villan
because of your own gullibility
and desire to fit.
It's for all of these reasons
that we must
see past the face
no matter what shape or color.
That we must
hear past the words
whether from a silver togue or a slow one.
Why we need to judge the actions
of that single human being.
Never by there upbringing
or there heritage
or anything else
this sick world
may want you to think.
AcheIt comes and goesAche in Free Verse More Like This
like an unwelcome houseguest,
leaving me with messes I don't need,
and it never shuts the door
to keep the cold out.
I tried shutting off the lights
and closing the blinds,
twisting the key in the padlock
and boarding the windows,
but as long as light can
seep through the cracks,
this shadow will follow
and dig its fingers into my shoulders.
I bruise easily, it knows,
and it revels in watching
me shift in discomfort
while it grips me.
Like a ghost,
it won't let go.
StuckYour empty gaze was the crack in the road,Stuck in Free Verse More Like This
staring past the pool colored
almost the same shade as last summer's paint job
meant to cover up the scratches
you left on the passenger door
when you were one tequila past sober.
I am a fly trapped in this spiderweb crack
that catches the blue-red urgency of
midnight sirens that you summoned without speaking.
They can't drown out the soundtrack
of our last sixteen seconds,
all caught in my head as if to prove
I don't want it there.
You looked up from letting your fingers linger
on the radio dial when your song came on,
laughing about how it reminded you of cotton candy
and your first boyfriend's cologne,
when your summer eyes caught the headlights,
like stained glass in full sun,
and all you could say was
You always talked about how
if you had three wishes you'd spend one on flying,
but I don't think this is what you meant.
I still have dreams about you telling me
the experience wasn't worth it.
I still reach for telephone to tell you
Burning HeartWe built a beautiful pyre,Burning Heart in Free Verse More Like This
and in my heart,
I'm holding your hand as it burns.
The sparks could become the stars,
jewels in Orion's belt.
I'd lace my fingers through yours
in a final act of faith
while we stare down the smoke
cradling the moon,
and each piece of kindling
that crumbles in on itself
leaves me a little less broken.
The light flickers,
so do the corners of your lips.
We needed this.
Blink and You'll Miss ItThe wind reminds me ofBlink and You'll Miss It in Free Verse More Like This
the empty space to my left,
which I swear you filled
only minutes ago.
But if I rested my hand
where you were sitting,
it would be just as cold as
the realization that you're gone.
HeavyWhen you let me goHeavy in Free Verse More Like This
by the side of the road,
please remember the string
that you tied to my soul.
I'm the balloon you inflated
just to let go;
the night is too cold
and I'm sinking so slowly down.
Why'd you have to cut this
the thin wire trailing
from my heartbeat to yours?
Remember the science of
the desolate sky,
because the night is too cold
and I'm sinking so slowly down.
Strung OutConsider me hanging on the line,Strung Out in Free Verse More Like This
a dress without a body waiting for the sun,
vibrant when she's not heavy, waterlogged.
As a child, I enjoyed making orange smiles,
while wondering why we didn't have
a clothesline stretching from tree to tree
like I'd seen on the television.
I admired the way skirts became birds,
picked up by the wind they adored,
while sheets grabbed the wind like a sail,
and the clouds were always made of cotton,
and the denim sat like lead.
Now every time I put myself out to dry,
the sky gets heavy and breaks on me.
I am halfway towards being ready,
and then the rain rips me down again.
Maybe that's why we bought a machine
to wring the water from our clothes,
because there was no risk of bad weather inside.
It's Not Coming BackAnd he was the voiceless, unforgiving wind.It's Not Coming Back in Free Verse More Like This
She screamed to his back while he forgot her name,
and each step he took into the sun
was met by the setting of hers.
It's a cold night where she stands,
and she coughs on the frost in her lungs,
choking on the memory of last night's air.
She mourns the death of yesterday
through nostalgic eyes,
and like a child, declares it's only sleeping.
Honorary Sun SpotI'm going to tie a stringHonorary Sun Spot in Free Verse More Like This
around the new dawn
and make the sun my balloon.
I won't let go as it keeps rising,
I just need warmth and this seems
like the best way to find it,
the day taking me with it
round the world.
Take a picture of your rooftop,
and I'll wave as I go by.
Papercuts and RecollectionsI had forgotten your love lettersPapercuts and Recollections in Free Verse More Like This
until they cut my finger when I
grazed the bottom of my drawer.
Folded crisp and neat,
some of the ink had smudged like
the crimson filling the whorls of my thumb.
I could hear your voice clearly,
saturated in the scrawling script.
You promised me forever,
now forever's gone.
Lost in that rush of reanimated feeling,
I could almost remember
the way your cheek felt resting
warm against my hair,
how you smelled like home.
The traces of you lingered like
the last hours of yesterday
before turning to the smell of dust
and the feel of paper too dry
to write on again.
A Letter to the Band DirectorMr. Rush,A Letter to the Band Director in Letters More Like This
Every time I think back to public school, most of my memories are from band. I started the program in 4th grade just looking for something to do, and it took me three long years to realize how much music meant to me.
While some kids went through the same old motions in middle school band, I embraced it and finally found my niche - something I could really do. Music became more than a substitute for homeroom; it was a passion, a feeling, and you helped me learn that there is nothing on this earth comparable to playing in a band.
Band became a sanctuary where I could let the music shape my mood and let me forget my problems, even for a little while. I know every inch of that band room, and learned so much more there than simply how to play a clarinet. Right now, there's nothing I want more than to sit with that band, have you raise up your magic wand, and play Cedar Crest! That one will haunt me my whole life!
In short, band changed my life.
Paper Bookmarks In My DietI've got paper bookmarks in my dietPaper Bookmarks In My Diet in Free Verse More Like This
I read intently
Nibble the corner
Rip off a bite
Chew, chew, chew
It's amazing how long it lasts
Almost longer than
It takes a good book
To get me started
But once I start;
I really can't stop
Nibble by meager nibble...
I only choose the very best.
Lined paper just will not do
And it takes usually a corner,
Or the oddly-shaped edges formed
From ripping a page from the rings,
Holding the untold stories of the notebook in place.
I love that musty old smell
When you flip the book pages
Past your nose
They briefly tickle me, delight me
The tiny fibers of material barely visible,
It releases an aroma into my nose
That no highly technologically advanced anything can compare to.
I flip the well-worn pages with a practiced ease,
Close my eyes
Because nothing makes me happier
Than a good old book smell
And paper bookmarks in my diet.
The GuitaristThe Guitarist in Free Verse More Like This
It is a fragile line,
Held suspended by the air
As if a snowdrop,
Curling gently in its descent,
Never capturing the attention
It rightly deserves
Like a careful little finely-tuned melody
To the trained ear
His fingers have been tormented
But he cannot simply stop.
The point of no return
Is a much more dangerous place
Than they let on
He plays because he must,
And in that string,
In that note,
There is his meaning of life.
Glisten like a snowdrop,
Glide like an albatross over the sea
Perhaps today it will make a difference.
They drop pennies in the hat at his feet.
Three Wishes - An Uncliche Spin On A Classic Tale"Three wishes, huh?" Stephanie mused. She found it quite preposterous, in her young, 22-year-old mind, to muse at all, as her firm, unyielding belief was that only old men and women could muse. Still, here she stood, paces from her now-calm horse in a wide field less than a mile from her family's farmhouse, musing, in fact, over what the genie had told her.Three Wishes - An Uncliche Spin On A Classic Tale in Short Stories More Like This
I know, I know. Quite silly, isn't it? Genies aren't real and Stephanie believed that herself, but all it took was a puff of breath to knock aside the light brown bangs hanging low over her eyes for her to clearly see that which was impossible.
She had found the old, rusted lamp buried half-in, half-out of the dirt in a creek that was slowly drying from the summer's scorching heat. Riding her horse over the shallow water, the sun had glinted at the perfect angle off of the lamp so as to catch her eager attention and allow her enough curiosity to turn around and go back for it. So Stephanie had gazed upon it with
DifficultIt has never been easyDifficult in Free Verse More Like This
talk a language I'll
I drown in black words,
they steal my weak pride,
take my poor beauty.
It has never been easy
To see your gazes,
to feel your disgust
burning through my flesh,
consuming my heart,
nagging at my very soul.
It has never been easy
To hear them curse you,
to sense your despair.
To know the darkness
that flows through your veins.
Feel the pure hatred
forcing you down on your knees.
No, it's never been easy,
but maybe, true hearts are forged
by what's difficult.
The Woman in WhitePitiful, my broken angelThe Woman in White in Free Verse More Like This
Pitiful, I'm sad to say
Pity is what you’re given
Pity is not enough to make you stay
Cross, death’s herald, if I could but paint you in morning mist
Schist-like mind, wandering in circles, never more adrift
Swift as a swift, stepping lightly, your dress pale as arum,
Alarum! Greedily you loved, loved at any cost
Lost your love yet loved your loss
Splendid IsolationWilliam the Silent never spoke in public.Splendid Isolation in Free Verse More Like This
But then he was a prince and needn’t bother
To talk to commoners like my brother
Who fought to found a republic.
But William the Silent told me a story
And not one about honour and glory.
‘I’ve clung to splendid isolation’, he told,
‘Without anyone’s company, o cold, so cold.
And my greatest fear is that when I grow old
I’ll be alone, all alone, among all this gold.’
I know his fear, how at his own heart he aimed
When ‘I am my own master’ he proudly proclaimed.
For I also have shunned the sun,
From every stranger I have run,
Lest they harm me as I’ve been harmed,
With fear and sorrow I’ve been armed.
And know this, sisters dear,
When anything in this world you fear,
Meet it at once, or be defeated forever,
And let a memory frighten you, never.
When you awake, trembling, crying, from your fright,
Don’t fear yourself, and you’ll make the night bright.
Romeo and RosalineRosaline is my nameRomeo and Rosaline in Free Verse More Like This
My lover, dead, by his own hand,
Died, in the name of love,
Because of his lover, dead.
Before you met Juliet, I was fairest of all.
Fall I did, from your heart, eyes and mind,
Blind as you were, blinded by her, I
Cry not for you, but for her. You swore
Your child-bride your eternal love, though
Owe, the day before, you’d been willing
Killing yourself for my vast beauty.
Duty or not, you left soon enough,
Rough, you turned, when it was clear, I wouldn't be your whore.
I was naught but a daydream to you who worshipped me,
See me you couldn’t, you saw what you wanted to see.
Be what you wanted me to be I couldn’t. You fled,
Wed a girl in gentler bed, a bed in which to die.
Romeo, in your shadow, Narcissus is a saint
Plaint: he harmed himself, but you bring death.
Breath of love, my innocent dove, weep,
Sleep, don’t dream of wicked Romeo.
It was not true love, Romeo, to take sudden flight,
As soon as another woman crossed your cursed sight.
And even still...Wishes upon a star,And even still... in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Like the brilliance of the sun,
Fleeting like stardust
Blink – it’s gone.
And even still…
The sparkle that is left behind
Never fades easily
From the trenches of the mind.
Like butterfly’s wings
Are fragile, be gentle
Or breakage it brings.
And even still…
The powder left behind,
On your fingertips it does dance,
As it goes unrefined.
Mirrors on the wall,
Like shimmering water,
It can distort the image,
And the ego it does slaughter.
And even still…
The cracks it leaves behind,
Do leave room to be filled
With the kindness of mankind.
PainI am in so much painPain in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
It hurts me every single day
A piece of glass for my heart
It too easily comes apart.
Torn by hurtful words that came from you
“Why do I breathe the same air you do?”
My existence wavers on this Earth
Soon will I become one with the dirt?
No one ever seems to notice me
Will I ever be set free?
To be valued and noticed by you
Is all I ever want to do.
But I don’t know how much longer
I can try to reconquer
The space I once held in your heart
While it turns more tart.
With flowers on my grave
This I dare say…
“Keep your trivial love that tears so deep
And my experience I shall keep.
Here I shall say adieu
And become a person anew”
Even if...All this hurt and painEven if... in Free Verse More Like This
It builds up inside me
Like water behind a dam.
And I know I said it was okay,
That I was fine,
But I still expected your gentle gaze
Your warm hand
Your calm words
And yet you say “okay”,
Like it was definite choice
Instead of a question hung in the air
Like snow falling from the sky.
I know if I wanted
I could’ve asked you.
I just put on the front
Of not wanting to bother you,
To take you from your friends,
But what hurts the most,
More than anything I’ve ever known,
Is that I thought you knew me
Better than I knew myself.
But you still
Bought the mask I was hiding under.
Why can’t you see?
I want to hold you,
To hug you,
To whisper those sweet nothings in your ear.
So that you may forget,
I know I shouldn’t be hurt,
We all say things
We don’t really mean.
But was I really that “pointless”?
Did I really “bore
I'm not perfectIt doesn’t make senseI'm not perfect in Free Verse More Like This
All this white noise in my head.
It screams and it cries and it howls
Words that I don’t understand.
Why can’t I feel the feelings
You laid out before me.
As if it was so easy
To show what is inside.
“I’m only human, nothing perfect.”
So I stumble, and I fall
But no on catches me before
I hit the ground and lay on the floor.
Feelings like pain and hurt
I understand those.
Even better than I do
The happiness and joy I see.
I’m sorry I hide when I’m upset
I just don’t see the reason
To bother you about it
And ruin your happiness.
I'm in Hiding...I didn’t even notice themI'm in Hiding... in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Didn’t even know why
But soon enough I felt them,
Those tears flow past my eyes.
No one has ever seen them,
Inside I had them kept.
Now it all pours out
My lock has snapped.
I try to hide and cover
For I see the faces you make.
You’ve never seen me upset
I hid it for your sake.
But now there’s no going back
You have seen it all.
I can no longer hide
My feelings behind a castle wall.
You tell me it’s okay,
I need to show my emotions.
I nod my head in understanding
I’m just going through the motions.
Truth is, it isn’t easy
For me to just show
What I’m feeling inside,
It’s a stormy mess, I know.
But little by little
I can try my best
To show you what’s inside;
I leave you to the rest.
Library of LifeMemories are just a variety of useless sources,Library of Life in Free Verse More Like This
Sadness is just an old and boring book.
Love is a cheap magazine
With a photo of a beauty queen,
But its articles every day a bit destroy me…
I want to burn it all;
I want my library to fall!
I do not want to see the past,
I want to change my fate fast!
Her image must be smashed,
All knowledge about her must turn to ash,
And my heart will never again clash!
Alas, no matter how hard I try,
Even if everything is gone,
She is still there…
Identity CrisisMy writings are scattered all over the place,Identity Crisis in Concrete Poetry More Like This
They cannot regain their former grace.
What happened to me? Did I lose my belief?
I am I already an autumn leaf?
Where is my muse? I need to find her!
Without this girl I cannot be a poet or a writer.
Who will I become then? I do not know!
Maybe the death wind away will me blow!
Once more I experience the identity crisis,
No one knows when it disappears or rises,
I try to find a new path by following the old,
Am I in search of love and in search of gold.
What is my aim now, since she is no more?
Thoughts made my mind a field of war:
Like foreign bombs questions fall
And answers break my mind's wall!
Doors To DestinyMy heart beats, but my mind is stronger,Doors To Destiny in Concrete Poetry More Like This
I am now free; I am not her captive any longer.
With battle scars from days of despair,
When life to me was unfair,
I travel the realms that I once created,
Some still stand, some already faded.
Suddenly I find myself near a ticking clock,
By time doors to my destiny are locked.
Behind them I hear laughs and cries,
The path to the future is full lies.
Maybe my muse for me looking,
And once again my pen will write,
So I could again see the light!
Or an appointment with misery I am booking.
I am trapped in darkness, though I feel content,
Nothing in this life can me now bend!
I will go straight without any fear,
Though I know no one is near.
One Year to LiveCancel your plans; spend your last dime,One Year to Live in Free Verse More Like This
You have been limited by time
Life against you committed a crime.
No matter what you have or will achieve,
Soon this World you will leave.
To the sky you will your soul give,
As you have only one year to live.
Forget everything, from your path turn,
As you will soon in hell burn.
So many things are left unsaid,
Life is unfair, why should you be dead?
There is no future, there is only demise,
Forever you will close your eyes,
But it won’t be a surprise.
You love her with all your heart, it is known,
You put her life higher than your own.
In the darkness she is like sunshine,
Her gaze for you is divine,
Even if you are in the end of the line.
Tell her about your feelings, don’t wait,
Empty your heart before it is too late,
Or for eternity yourself you will hate.
From the Grim Reaper you can’t be safe,
You will rest in peace in your grave!
No matter what was your aim,
It is the end of the game.
Stop your struggles in gaining re
Not The SameMy muse, pass me the pen,Not The Same in Concrete Poetry More Like This
It is time to write to her again.
She sealed a luck charm to my heart,
She is the spirit of my art:
About the future I do not worry,
For what I lost I am not sorry,
But you my former friend of heart,
I see, in my life you still have a part.
I tried to forget you: I did and I’m free,
You are not like before burning me.
With the fact that I lost I can cope,
But there is still time to cut the rope.
The World I lived in had finally ended,
A new one was born, from ash it ascended.
You brought it all down and I am grateful,
To you, my dear, I will stay fateful.
Alas, the feeling is not the same,
For this change only I am to blame,
Goodbye and hello my precious dame!
A Poem Of MotivationA poem came to my mind,A Poem Of Motivation in Free Verse More Like This
But suddenly all words I forgot,
My muse, please be kind,
And show everyone what you got.
Now it is time to act, to change,
And to turn away from my past,
Some may find it strange,
But I am ready to live my dream at last.
To let it go though I am ready
And to move quiet and steady.
One day I know I will reach the top,
Nothing in this World will me stop.
I wait for a day that I so long treasured,
The scale of which I’ve never measured,
But I believe that it will come,
And to heaven I shall roam.
Writer's OathAs a writer, I swear on my word and my honor to do my best,Writer's Oath in Philosophical More Like This
To always strive for the unobtainable;
To not only reach for, but to walk among the stars;
To never lose the awe and wonderment of life,
And to see the world, if only for a moment, with the simple faith and wonder of a child;
To kindle the flame of imagination within the hearts of all whom I come into contact with;
To never scoff at the whimsical;
To keep a hearty belief in dragons and fairies burning strong in my heart;
To believe that giants can be slain, and evils vanquished;
To not merely search for a hero in dark times, but to seek to be one;
To look ever to my friends for inspiration, and also to seek to be that inspiring light;
To remember that the darkest hour of night is when the promise of coming dawn is the brightest;
To stand up for truth and right, regarding not the opposition;
To be ever open to new possibilities,
And yet to always say what must be said in the way it ought to be said;
To remember that the pen is
FeathersWhy do I still have these beautiful things?Feathers in Free Verse More Like This
They are not me.
I am not beautiful!
I am ugly.
I do not deserve such vibrant colors.
I am decaying from the inside out.
My soul is being picked apart by my thoughts.
I try to call out.
But no one hears my hidden screams.
But no one cares.
I am dying inside and there's no hope to save me.