Soul of the OnionOnions have layers, thin and fragile.
Your first layer is what you wish people to see, dress yourself in what you feel and transform what people preicieve you to be in the way you wish people to like, pay attention to.
Scrape away that artificial layer of lies, untruthful make up and fooling paint and you see more of you, what you really are, what you really like, what you are destined to become whether lovely or not.
As layers are slowly peeled away your being is out in the open, more your being exposed to everything you are, everything you will be, nothing to be hidden from the people you love, the people who love you.
All the layers are disposed of now, your soul core bare and seen by all. How do you feel? Do the people who loved you see you the same way? is your personality and look different than what it was before? Only the ones who truely love you accept you and everything you are no matter how demonic or differnt you may be, only seeing you as a person never a worthle
Just Words"I'm fine" is a dirty lie.Just Words in Free Verse More Like This
The truth is that I want to die.
"I'm tired" is not even done.
It really means "I'm tired of being no one"
"I'm better" is but a curse.
The truth is that I've never been worse
"I'm just cold" is what I say
so my sleeves can hide my scars away.
"I already ate" is said with a frown.
I starve to see the numbers on the scale go down.
"I'm okay" is probably the worst.
It really means I'm about to burst.
All these things are lies to me.
But you take this as the truth because what else would I be?
That one girlShe's that one girl you see with the pencil wovenThat one girl in Free Verse More Like This
between her skinny fingers
She's the one who sits in the corner
instead of the middle of the room
The one who's always last to speak
The one who's words are kept secret to everyone
Always the one who bites
her own tongue
She's the girl who's beautiful
but doesn't think the same way
She's the one who can't be convinced
of the talents she holds
The flare that ignites the lives of the people around her
but she can't feel the heat for herself
She is weighed down by the insecurities she slings
over her shoulders
She's unconvinced of her own style
her own special self
She's the girl who paints
She's the girl who draws
She's the girl who writes
But second guesses every stroke of her brush
to every letter she prints
Shes that one girl whose eyes display a world
all her own
But she sees a somber world
staring back at her
Tell Me ThisOh, so you're not thin?Tell Me This in Free Verse More Like This
Tell me how you're ugly.
Oh, so your hair doesn't look good everyday?
Tell me whose does.
Oh, so you make mistakes?
Tell me who doesn't.
Oh, so you're not a model?
Tell me what the definition of beauty is.
Oh, so you aren't normal?
Tell me what "normal" is.
Oh, so you aren't good enough?
Tell me why.
Because there isn't a standard you need to reach to be yourself.
The Heart Necklace A child sits numbly at a tableThe Heart Necklace in Free Verse More Like This
the chairs across from him are empty.
Children race about around him
and he watches as their attention dashes through him.
He wears a heart necklace the red of a summer sunrise
and plays with it idly between his fingers. It can be split in two but it stays as one.
Someday, I'll find someone to wear this with me
He whispers, almost as if to console himself.
A teenager sits meekly at a table
the chairs across from him are empty.
Other teens text and chat with their friends
and he watches as one girl smiles at him with honey eyes.
He wears a heart necklace the red of his blushing face
and he plays with it idly between his fingers. It is split in two but both pieces are around his neck.
Someday, she may wear this with me
He whispers, almost lost in his shy giggles.
A man sits proudly at a table
the chair across from him sits a woman with honey eyes.
Anyone else w
Dear meDear eyesDear me in Free Verse More Like This
I'm sorry for all the tears that I made you shed.
I wish I could have kept you dry instead.
Those nights I didn't let you rest
I'm sorry for being such a pest
I'm sorry for fumbling to the ground
I wish I had done something more profound
I just couldn't wait to fall
For those people who said they would be there if I call
Sorry for all those nights of crying myself under
I wish I could have made a silent surrender
For those sweet words you heard and believed
I'm sorry, but they were from people who stole and thieved
I'm sorry I didn't listen to you from the start
Now my life is falling apart
I should have believed that you were right
I wish I had given you more of a fight
Sorry for letting those dancers dance and dice
What they did wasn't too nice
Stripes suit you fairly well
Too bad I had to put you through hell
Sorry for messing you up so bad
I hope that didn't m
Boys can hurt too...And he satBoys can hurt too... in Free Verse More Like This
In a place no one could find him.
Where the grasp of his peers could not pull him under
And the hot breath of his family couldn't raise the hairs on his neck.
He ripped at his hair with his fingers
As if to pull out the fear
The feeling he got that impaled his heart.
He wondered how his heart could have been poisoned so
When it was sealed behind the cage of his ribs
And locked with a key of reason.
Perhaps, instead of protecting his heart
He imprisoned it.
He let that cage rust alone
So no one could get in
He let the rust encase his hopeful soul
And he let the very will to not get hurt
Guard the prison he obliviously made
And his heart slowly died of neglect
It cracked, and became a broken masterpiece.
The permanent scars that slowly appeared
Was as if an open door to the things he feared
And they crawled inside and replaced everything he once loved
His heart was
Between the stallsAmung the sinks and filthy tilesBetween the stalls in Free Verse More Like This
I stay between two dirty walls
I really just need to be here alone
No where but here amung the bathroom stalls.
As I sit upon the toilet lid
I can see the water between my knees
I glare into this toilet bowl
And all I find is a circular sea.
I watch as they drip again and again
The tears come streaming down my cheek
They fall into the bowl directly below
And vanish into the water so bleak.
This is the place I come to hide
This is the place I always go
Where theres a place I can be myself
And not my emotions' puppet show.
I hear the tap of my shoes echo the room
But its shushed asleep by the sound of the flush
This way I can drown my emotions dead
To finally get them to shut up and hush.
I use my sleeves to wipe my eyes
And walk out from between these walls
I walk with nothing but a smile to show
Like nothing happened, even at all
I'm Fine"Are you okay?"I'm Fine in Free Verse More Like This
That's all they say.
And I leave behind
These words in my mind.
I'm broken, I'm dying.
Inside, I'm crying.
There are wounds beneath my skin.
There are trials I face within.
There are things I just can't say.
There are people I must betray.
Beneath a smile, I feel pain.
Behind the sun, there's always a little rain.
And beneath these words I hold in my head...
There's always the thing I say instead.
I leave the truth behind..
So when they say, "are you okay?"
I always say, "I'm fine."
You're Not?You're anorexic if you're thinYou're Not? in Free Verse More Like This
You're not? Then you're obese.
If you're different, you're insane
You're not? Then you're a fake.
If you're happy, you're hiding something.
You're not? You must be emo.
If you're dating, you're a slut.
You're not? You must have no friends.
If you're popular, you're a jerk.
You're not? You're a nobody.
If you're quiet, you must be disabled.
You're not? You obnoxious freak.
If you're you, you're wrong.
Then you must be perfect.
In a Little Girl's MindThere sits the girl with the things in her eyesIn a Little Girl's Mind in Free Verse More Like This
Monsters, destruction, and sweet butterflies
Hopscotch and daisies, surrounded by screams
Beautiful dresses now torn at the seams
Crayons and paintbrushes, villains and grins
Young, gladsome innocence, hatred and sins
Little red houses on roads left to fade
Gorgeous moonlight shining off of the blade
Blood pouring out as she cries her own name
Knowing she's forced to take each bit of blame
She could have stopped it and left it behind
All of these things in her troubled young mind
She could have saved them if she dared to try
Rather, though, she left herself there to die.
Now, others watch as she sits on the ground
Keeping their distance and letting her drown
In her own worries and things she won't tell
Waiting for her mind to kill her as well…
Stop asking me...Stop asking me what's wrongStop asking me... in Free Verse More Like This
Because I'm never going to answer.
Stop telling me it gets better
Because I've accepted that it'll never change.
Stop begging me to let you in
Because even then, I'm just going to fake a smile.
Let's Play a Game Let's play a game.Let's Play a Game in Free Verse More Like This
I don't like the game we play
But he says we have to.
After all, I am
Daddy's little girl.
I'm too sad to move.
I don't like this game.
But I am
Daddy's little girl.
There. Wasn't that nice?
I don't like our games...
But I guess I have to
Daddy's little girl.
We can play again later.
I don't want to play later!
I don't. Like. Our. Games.
But I have to play them.
Daddy's little girl.
It's fun. Isn't it?
I don't want to be
I'm sick of being
Daddy's little girl
In Daddy's world
With Daddy's games.
Let me grab this knife, Daddy.
Let me hurt you, Daddy.
The way you hurt me.
I don't want to be your little girl.
I want to play a game.
Depression...No, depression is not just getting sad.Depression... in Free Verse More Like This
It's a constant sadness that melts into your bones,
An indescribably heavy weight upon your shoulders,
Never mind your heart and soul.
It's believing so many lies (maybe because you've learned to accept them)
And no longer appreciating your self-worth.
Wishing you no longer existed, wishing yourself gone.
Depression holds you back from your dreams
And pulls you into a nightmare.
It takes full control of your existence.
It makes you never want to get out of bed,
And when you finally do,
You just want to get back in it.
But you know the hardest part?
DisappearWishing to disappearDisappear in Free Verse More Like This
never to existed in their mind
no reason to cheer
this is why I was designed
there's a cloud over me and its raining knives
all smiles are faked
no one hears his cry's
as he sits there shivers and shakes
doesn't even try to reach out because there's nothing there
only my own numb stare
no desire to fight the devils wrenches
would anyone notice if I could disappear
because Im starting to feel warm in these trenches
would they even shed a tear?
Sick of the acting
let me compost with the dirt
live????..... ill think Ill be passing
lets make sure this hurts
still wishing to disappear
lets seal this coffin with a drop of blood and a tear
So much time, so little to doI have seen the beauty of a dove beneath the skiesSo much time, so little to do in Free Verse More Like This
I have told the harshest truths, and I have told some lies
I have seen a child cry into its mother's arms
I have been that weeping girl who held onto self-harm
I have heard the laughter of a man about to die
I have seen the anger resting deep within their eyes
I have been the victim of my own disgusting thoughts
I have seen the best of people slowly start to rot
I have felt the heartache; I have seen a love go blue…
So much time is left to spare, but so much less to do…
I am a labelI slid the blade across my wristI am a label in Free Verse More Like This
Again and again.
Maybe I’m an emotional freak.
I cause fights and arguments
Maybe I’m a troublemaker.
I use make up to make myself seem
Maybe I’m girly.
I complain about things
Even when sometimes
Maybe I’m an attention seeker.
I fall under so many
So maybe I am a label.
I’m just me.
Graffiti Dreams in Black and White The strokes are dreamt permanent,Graffiti Dreams in Black and White in Free Verse More Like This
the only lasting demarcations of claiming existence,
and the collective artists who painted them majored in Biology,
or Accounting, or English and Professional Writing, or dropped out
as so many do when they wake up.
The poet paints them into existence with his words:
“ideas are illusions, and all words are untrue.”
And we nod our heads and sip our coffees, indeed,
put a price to labors and words and even to thoughts
because we no longer want freedom if it costs us the freedom
of saving face and keeping pace with the ebb and flow
I was never a writer. I: HalfsleeperI was never a writer. in Free Verse More Like This
I fell in love, once.
A snowstorm melting from my hair - dripping cataract:
diluted coffee. A dark room filled with language
so beautiful, I almost understood what was said.
Children are getting younger, and this land has no end,
where do you rest your head?
All things are in a constant state of vibration,
a harmony in the space between
our fingers. our hands.
I’ve only ever stopped to listen
I'm So TiredI'm so tired of crying,I'm So Tired in Free Verse More Like This
I'm so tired of loving,
I'm so tired of dying
inside my soul each day.
I'm so tired of hoping,
I'm so tired of dreaming,
I'm so tired of imagining.
It will never be real anyway.
I'm so tired of falling,
I'm so tired of failing,
I'm so tired of walking
when love is so far away.
I'm so tired of wishing,
I'm so tired of searching,
I'm so tired of remembering
those beautiful things you used to say.
I'm so tired of bleeding,
I'm so tired of yearning,
I'm so tired of living
in a world that's grey.
But most of all I'm tired,
of being the person I am,
I'm tired of my mistakes,
I'm tired of my broken heart.
I'm just so tired of being me.
A Certain SomethingOccasionally I'll look in the mirror,A Certain Something in Free Verse More Like This
with a different purpose.
I'm not looking for flaws,
I'm looking for that spark.
That beautiful spark I long to have,
glistening in my eyes,
but I never find it no matter how long I look.
It's just not there.
I'm sure there's something obvious,
something I'm completely missing,
a certain thing I need to work on,
a certain someone I need to become.
I remember when I had that spark,
I was young and innocent,
sure I might have not been able to do much,
but I had that spark.
...When did I lose that spark?
ThinkYou say I`m cold.Think in Free Verse More Like This
You say I don`t want to be friends.
You say I keep to the shadows.
You say I don`t like people.
You say I`m weird.
I`m not cold, I`m shards of a person.
I`d love to be friends, but I`m scared.
I keep to the shadows to stay out of sight.
I like people but I can`t trust them.
Would you be warm if you`d been broken?
Would you be friendly if stabbed in the back?
Would you walk in light if darkness surrounded you?
Would you like people who made you want to die?
Would you be different?
Before you judge, make an effort to see.
Surfaces have depths, people have sadness beneath.
Feel.You can`t.Feel. in Free Verse More Like This
You can`t feel what I felt.
Rip out your heart.
Pull out your spine
Tear yourself apart.
Then you`ll come close.
That`s how you made me feel.
With your words.
They reached inside me.
pierced my soul.
But now it`s different.
I have the chance
to tear you apart.
But I don`t.
It would mean being like you.
But I want to live.
So I forgive instead.
a timeless ringshe wears me upona timeless ring in Free Verse More Like This
her withered hand:
an angel's halo
with no beginning or
she didn't like
but he brushed away the
drops of jupiter
twinkling on her
return but it was
just a fool's
and now i am
a memoir of
because he is
dead but he is
not, he is
gone but he is
here, he is
a memory preserved;
she wears me upon
her withered hand:
the crown of a
king lost in battle
grazes me with her
because soon i
will be a
she will be the
Bo.When Lindsay was born, Bo was there. Standing beside her mother, he was the first thing she ever saw. But he was not her father; her father stood on the other side.Bo. in Short Stories More Like This
Bo was there until the very moment she died.
The sun shone bright through the windows of her pink-laden room. She loved pink. And black.
“Because Bo is black,” she’d told her parents.
Her imaginary friend, they soon concluded.
“Bo is all black,” she described one night as her father tucked her in, “His skin and his hair and everything. He doesn’t talk a lot.”
Her father frowned.
“He sounds scary.”
“He’s not,” she insisted.
Bo sat on the bed and said nothing.
Her father kissed her good night and turned out the light.
“Why can’t Dad see you?” she asked.
“Are you real?”
“Are you real?” he replied.
“How do you know?”
EyesThey told me not to look,Eyes in Free Verse More Like This
But I always do.
I can't help it you know?
Their eyes are so beautiful...
Each one shines with a colour from the rainbow.
Some are green, some are blue.
You might even find a set of gold amongst the lot.
Some of them shine like pearls,
Others twinkle like stars in the sky.
Each one holds a fragile soul,
Each one has its own sense of depth.
And so, I always end up looking into their eyes...
Right before I blink mine and I firmly squeeze the trigger...
My Love is SicknessMy love is utter sickness,My Love is Sickness in Free Verse More Like This
I'll have you obsessed, until you're ruined inside.
And you will crawl and I will have you beg,
I swear I'll become the very voice in your head.
Oh you will suffer and you will sweat,
I will have you lusting for more than you get!
Losing it all, as lose your mind,
You're numb to this pain, so take this pleasure of mine;
Now open it up so you can give me more.
Close up your life and quickly lock up the door.
Or i'll have you spinning with my every touch,
And even when I use you it just won't be enough.
Your body desires and I'm letting it know,
You're already gone before I let you go.
My love is an utter sickness,
I'll teach you to love your very moment of weakness,
I'll teach you to crawl and I will make you beg!
I'll teach you what it's like to be mine in bed.
-Word of Chen, 16th May 2014
Just Smile...Perhaps I should confess to you,Just Smile... in Free Verse More Like This
That I am trapped within this box of crushing insecurity...
Screaming as I shatter my nails against the wall.
But I'm sure you'll tell me to just smile and wave.
DieDie:Die in Free Verse More Like This
Such a simple word, spewed without thought.
"I wish you'd die, I wish you'd be killed."
But what if we actually gave meaning to those words?
Can you understand the emotion, the magnitude, the weight,
Of actually seeing the life of an individual depart?
Can you look them in the eyes, as they bleed into your hands;
Observing their final moments, as the light fades from their eyes?
Or are you simply a soft-hearted coward,
Sitting fat behind a computer, wishing death upon others?
To say that one is deserving of death,
Suggests that you are ready to kill.
And if indeed you are ready to kill,
Then you too must be prepared to die.
"Now please, stop those tears my good man, we've only removed three of your toes so far (^_^)"
-Chen Yuan Wen, 9th July 2013
I Am A WriterI Am A Writer:I Am A Writer in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Gentlemen, today I speak to you
To convey an issue that has plagued the core of our community.
For so long have we been considered second-class;
To this day there are those who still believe that we are not artists.
But today is not about freedom, today is about honour,
Because there are many writers that still seek to shame us all...
I speak of those individuals, who take art from others.
Covers, photos, paintings, digital art, anime and manga.
It matters not where you draw your source from,
But every action impacts upon us as a community.
BECAUSE I AM A WRITER!
When I craft my works, when I write each and every line,
I paint using expression; metaphors are my colours.
The words are my brush and each and every rhyme is my medium.
I do not ask to be considered an artist, but I do ask to be considered.
BECAUSE I AM A WRITER!
For someone who practices his craft day and night,
Painstakingly learning how to use each and ever
She Dances With FireShe dances with fire, a dragon in tow.She Dances With Fire in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Twirling with flames; graceful and slow
She dances tonight, in a city of ash.
Her feet leaving footprints, where the sand will splash.
Quietly mourning, as time goes by;
Where once she beheld a home in her eyes...
Yet naught but the barest of bones remain,
And so she dances, to soothe the pain.
The IndividualYou wear your skin, with mask of sin,The Individual in Free Verse More Like This
A spiderweb of lies. Of "individuals",
Breaking ties, alone at last
They seem to hide, a fixation of vanity...
I am the "individual"!
This is my golden ritual,
Refuse all that is me,
A web of lies I be!
But can you see, what you've become,
Showing these scars made by none-
Other than you?
They were made just for you...
They were made just by you...
Made to be pitied too...
You are the "individual"!
Lies are your golden ritual,
Refuse what you should be,
To live with agony!
I Know You Hate Me Now But...I Know You Hate Me Now But...:I Know You Hate Me Now But... in Free Verse More Like This
Just give me a chance alright, I'll explain
To me, you're the girl that I notice everything about.
The way you laugh, the way you smile;
We got along great back then, even if we don't now.
And to be honest, I miss that...
You had the most lovely silky smooth hair
You'd give me the cutest anime girl smile
I wish I'd talked to you more about Manga,
Hell you got me started on the whole thing.
You were fantastic at drawing too
Man I was always jealous of that talent,
And I loved your drawings, like I once loved you.
I wish that you could have been a professional.
I would have bought your book every month y'know...
You encouraged me to write.
Back when my stories were shit,
Back when my poems were still baby's rhymes.
You taught me not to give in and I was grateful.
Now just let me finish alright?
I know that you won't speak to me.
That's okay, I admit to being an ass,
But the reason that I'm writing this poem to nobod
I Don't Mean To Be Rude...But I am getting quite sick of your attitude.I Don't Mean To Be Rude... in Free Verse More Like This
And if you think you are free of all guilt and suspicion.
I'm afraid, you will find, you are only in remission...
For I'll hunt you quietly, silent and slow.
And I'll wait till you slip, before I lay you low.
But when you're filled to the brim with fear; chasing the shadows away.
I'll appear inside your mirror--and I might come out to play...
...So tell me, do you fear me now?
-Chen Yuan Wen, 16th December 2013
Lie to MeThere are those who stare into the water's edge.Lie to Me in Free Verse More Like This
Gleaming eyes fixed upon their reflections.
I am beautiful! they say to themselves,
And all of you must accept that as true!
To say otherwise would be a social suicide.
Their friends will defend them to the bitterest end.
In a circle of illusions cast by the group,
You are forced to accept this person as 'pretty'.
To me you are not beautiful, you are simply lazy.
You have done nothing for yourself,
And now you wish me to accept you?
But I must tell you the truth.
And though that truth may wound you,
I believe it is for the best:
Because girl, dayum! You just look so bad that my eyes are cryin' YOU a river.
- Chen Yuan Wen, 11th August 2013
Poets have the loneliest hearts.I drink morphinePoets have the loneliest hearts. in Free Verse More Like This
like peach tea;
down 6 pills by morning
just to keep my mind
& I know I can go days
without speaking a word
I want a moon shy girl
with wolves at her back,
bite mark ankles &
a bottle of writer’s tears
tucked under one arm.
I want to be end of the war
kisses bruised into her hipbones;
the epilogue written over her
With these wisteria limbs
February cold, &
these weak lungs
exhaling coralline whispers,
I’ve got a tongue for words
but still have no idea how to love
a universe girl.
Writer ScarsI have told my secretsWriter Scars in Free Verse More Like This
through loves ink -
painted them to my skin
with watercolor defiance.
& writers, we sometimes
write about our scars
in riddles, layers upon
layers of thought, -
care for them
on the warlands
of our bodies.
we give them faces,
we give them names,
we give them gravestones.
We kill them off
in our stories,
make them villains,
make them heroes.
I have wrists that roar,
& I will be damned
if I don’t let them
tell their stories.
HeroineSometimes,Heroine in Free Verse More Like This
she tries to fall into the night,
tipping her strawberry heart
like a tea bag into hot waters-
always scolding herself
kissing ocean beds.
Her hips, tides rolling
towards the antagonists
of myths & legends.
with a thousand leagues
of sea behind her eyes,
she will always save herself.
It's all about her,-I had never wished to know the moon,It's all about her, in Free Verse More Like This
or the burning gaze of her lover.
I am merely a forest of silences,
old dogwoods & untamed hair.
-But, I made a promise
to a bone collector once.
He could have my spine,
my kneecaps, &
one flowered rib,
wrapped & bowed-up
like a present
-if he could fall in love
with things that slip through his fingers:
-“It would be a sin to love you,
my dear sweet wolf;
you will always cry for the moon.”
To be a writerYou taste like decaying leavesTo be a writer in Free Verse More Like This
and October's bad habits-
when it’s halfway through February
that still haunts these bones.
I have allowed you to
claw your love
into my arms
and chant into my
for much too long.
I wish I was one of those girls
who could say wild flowers
grow up through my nooks
and my crannies just to tear
through my skin, screaming.
I’m just that dead eyed deer
on the side of the road dreaming
of shoving a pen down my throat
and writing these verses inside out.
I am no scribe, prophet, or spell caster.
I know it.
My skin knows it.
My pen knows it too.
Years and years
my mind will dwell
on the way your fingers
chain linked between my ribs
and shook my
to be a writer
is to be a masochist,
and I refuse to get off
on the pain anymore.
Please, forgive me.Like lies, you saidPlease, forgive me. in Free Verse More Like This
I make breathing the cosmos
through rose colored lungs
look easy- vertebrae stretched
toward the moon.
& I'm hanging my bones
out to dry, carving Saturn's
rings into my wrists- my
star burst ankles.
I swore then I'd keep my
black tongued poetry
& uprooted limbs far,
far away from you.
But, like lies, galaxies,
& night fevers, you
are the destination
on my star map skin.
whiskeyShewhiskey in Free Verse More Like This
in one slow,
I heard it plunge
into the gaping
emptiness of her.
drank the sun
from my fingertips,
licked me from her lips,
look better dead, plucked
from your November pores."
"They go down smoothest
with Writers Tears."
Please,don’t make mePlease, in Free Verse More Like This
fall in love with you,
I don’t want to remember you,
those Sunday morning
or the way your
lost boy eyes always,
always found a way
to find mine.
There are only so many times
I can allow you to slice
through my scar tissue
before I finally
You should never attack a poet,we are the best at exploiting weakness.You should never attack a poet, in Free Verse More Like This
the night you took a scalpel to my chest
& fed my heart to the stars,
you told me i could hate you
if i needed to.
with an exorcism
i tried to cast you out
of my body.
i was contorted limbs:
the language of tongues
trying to find myself
in the cosmos
of lit kerosene fingertips,
& the kinds of habits
that only choke me at 3am -
when my eyes aren’t yet heavy
enough for sleep;
my mind tells me to do awful things.
between fucking &
you are the calories
in the mathematical equation
i think of shy moons
and i don’t eat for three days.
you only liked me
when this poetic tongue
space shrapnel aside-
you’re too far down now
for even the stars
to graph you into their maps.
You.You told me onceYou. in Free Verse More Like This
you would break my stars,
tear them from the sky and devour them
s l o w l y.
I neglected to tell you
they all had their own feelings
and your bruises form my own constellation
in the quiet valleys of my firefly skin.
I am the milky way.
And you, my sweet-
You are nothing more
than a dead star
with a pretty name.
Suicide Is Not An OptionI find myself weaving the final stitchesSuicide Is Not An Option in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Of a noose I have been working on for a while
I swore I’d use it by the time it was complete
If me and my sanity hadn’t reconciled
Each thread representing a flawed emotion
Which tightly woven together makes up my life
If you’re the one to cut me down from the rafters
Love, patience and understanding must be your knife
I find myself with a gun in my right hand
With only one bullet left in the cold chamber
I hand the loaded pistol with safety off
Blindly in to the hands of a complete stranger
Does this represent me opening my heart
And risking a life of abject, dismal sorrow
This God given gift of love is worth the risk
And cupid’s bullets can pierce deeper than arrows
I find myself perched on the edge of a cliff
And at this point in time I am feeling unsure
If the wind that’s blowing me towards the verge
Is real or in fact just another metaphor
That is representing all of the worries
Which try to push me to the seas
Her Daily MasqueradeToday her parents ask how her day has beenHer Daily Masquerade in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
By now the answer has been well rehearsed
She insists to them that everything is fine
But the reality is the reverse
In fact she’s the antonym of the word ‘fine’
This is due to her creatively cursed mind
Steeped in a world of such simplicity
Yesterday friends asked how she has been coping
Waiting for their turn to talk, do they care?
They just see a happy, contented princess
Not a pensive, vacant, glazed over stare
In fact she’s the opposite of contented
Restless and at war with reality
Battling feelings of alienation
From unsupportive friends and family
Tomorrow strangers will ask her what is wrong
But in white lies she has become well versed
Knowing that the tar black pit of torrid truth
Will not dilute and only make things worse
She’s living the antonym of the word ‘truth’
But her lies are not designed to betray
Just to cover the cracks and to smother those
Fads and TrendsWhatever makes them popular todayFads and Trends in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Will be the death of them tomorrow
With looks like that they can say anything
And their insecure flock will follow
Run for your life, break away from the flock
Grow a back bone and do your own thing
Fear not for the adverse consequences
Living a lie brings much more suffering
What these people consider ‘scene’ today
Will of course not be seen tomorrow
Image is just a temporary façade
And yet these blind fools seem to follow
Run for your life, break away from the flock
And sing only from your own hymm sheet
Form your own ideas and opinions
Don’t recite someone else’s beliefs
Whoever you think that you are today
Is not who you will be tomorrow
Please drink a glass of self belief my friend
Your pride will be easier to swallow
Run for your life, break away from the flock
And without wishing to cause offence
For once in your life go against the grain
Be yourself, don’t follow fads and trends
Target WeightI am afraid because I knowTarget Weight in Free Verse More Like This
That I will never arrive
At a point where I am nourished
And emotionally satisfied
So to regulate my mood
I consume levels that disgrace
They suppose that this is greed
That assumption is misplaced
I’m addicted to the feeling
The short term stimulation
But that only makes me more prone
To those feelings of deflation
And stomach cramps and pains
Loose skin hanging from my bones
Eyes sinking into my skull
And those deathly grey skin tones
Will I ever fill the hole
Silence those voices for a while
I prepare my gut for sorrow
While I am spoon fed on denial
But life’s too much to digest
An acid reflux episode
Regurgitate my memories
Before my stomach explodes
In a culture such as ours
The blame lays nowhere but my plate
I chose the fats, sugars and salts
The impossible target weight
Now I’m afraid because I know
The end has already arrived
In the form of this addiction
To a staple we need to survive
Take Another PillWhen I was just a childTake Another Pill in Free Verse More Like This
About twenty years back
I never would have thought
I would turn out like that
Or indeed like this
If I speak in the present tense
I guess I’m tense in the present
If that makes any sense
When I was at the mercy
Of the medical profession
They told me I was suffering
With clinical depression
And tapestries woven this tight
Into such an infant mind
Would be difficult to unspool
Unthread and leave behind
When I was just a boy
Around ten or so years back
I fell into a deep hole
But it felt more like a trap
I couldn’t get out of there
In fact I’m stuck here still
And all anyone can do
Is to prescribe another pill
Silent School DaysI am refusing to look back fondlySilent School Days in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
On the so-called best days and years of my life
So my memories will not deceive me
With rose tinted reminiscence and hindsight
School was nothing more than a breeding ground
For close minded and close hearted thinking
Education was drip fed like water
But was too contaminated for drinking
We were fenced in along side our ambition
And watched it fade as we were forced to learn
From teachers for whom our best interests
Did not seem to be any of their concern
Most days it felt more like a factory
Than a fertile field of free thought
Manufacturing these children’s futures
With the useless information that they taught
Truth is they were bound by bureaucracy
Their once nurturing hands tied up in red tape
And without any passion for teaching
They began to neglect and humiliate
So I’d go to the library, see spaces on shelves
This told me that there were others like me
Wanting to lose themselves between book covers
Before losing their true identity
BlackI always wear the colour blackBlack in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
As it reflects my inner mood
Black is the absence of colour
Now I feel the absence of you
Black is my inert, withered heart
Immobilised since you’ve been gone
A vacuous hole of nothing
Lifeless, vapid and monochrome
Black is the frayed material
Of the grim reaper’s deathly cloak
So in the darkest evening sky
You would never see his approach
Black is the colour and the shade
Of the star speckled, moonlit sky
And the shadow which you once cast
In the early morning sunshine
Black is my weeping mascara
As down my face the tears will stream
From the little puddles of ink
My pupils nowhere to be seen
Black are those things I've gazed upon
With my sorrowful eyes shut tight
Even rainbows become polluted
Within the filth of my mind’s eye
Black is how I’m feeling today
But should I not be feeling blue
Like my blood before you cut it red
Like your blood before I cut you
Black is t
Can't Find JoyI stole the smiles from both of my parent’s facesCan't Find Joy in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The very same one I was responsible for
On the day I was delivered into their arms
In a cloth, from the beak of a black feathered stork
From the very first day with my very first breath
Though I was not able to speak a single word
It was evident as the nurses bowed their heads
That this boy with the dilated pupils was cursed
Everything I’ve ever grown to love and desire
In one way or another I have now destroyed
Yet still I have the temerity to question
Why it is that I can never seem to find joy
I stole the smiles from both of my parent’s faces
I would do anything at all to give them back
But some wicked actions can never be undone
And some statements I have made I cannot retract
Regardless of the depths that I sank or swam to
Whether I was responsible for what was wrong
My lugubrious mood could always be soothed
With memories of the black feathered stork’s bird song
Every page my trembling hand has ever turned
19 Years OldI was just nineteen years old19 Years Old in Free Verse More Like This
When I cut myself in two
The boy I wanted them to see
And the boy they never knew
Hid my hollow bones away
I've been hiding ever since
Yes, you may see the odd smile
But only ever a glimpse
But my heart was never broken
It was born in several pieces
And with every passing year
The size of the segments decreases
I was just nineteen years old
When I died for the first time
I did not cope so well
With leaving my childhood behind
I didn't want to face up
To these wretched bent back blues
But will I give in to the struggle?
No, with respect I refuse
See my grandfather gave me
The stubborn heart of an ox
I will die before I collapse
A coward I am not
You Don't Know Your Daughter At AllJust because she is no longer in a cradleYou Don't Know Your Daughter At All in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Does not mean that your baby wont fall
And if you think that her smile means she is happy
Then you don’t know your daughter at all
On arriving home from school she runs up the stairs
And locks herself away in her room
It’s so easy to think that it’s just teenage angst
That will pass in time and be gone soon
Perhaps you assume that it is just boy trouble
A romance that will soon be forgot
Yes, maybe her problems are just a passing phase
But then again what if they are not
What if they’re deep rooted in the parental soil
That you’ve been failing to cultivate
As she grows, the leaves of her childhood are falling
And as of yet have not been replaced
Dismal days are making her deciduate
No wonder she’s feeling insecure
Her branches of self belief have become so bare
With her leaves left scattered on the floor
She patiently waits to once again see the light
Not knowing that this darkness will lift
It is your job to