sense of me
I've always the quite one. The weirdo you've never notice but scence I've learn how to focus. I've realize why I shut myself up. I have too big of a mouth and too much love to burn out. I've seen it all before. I guess I was that girl. So what if I just sat quietly and not speak to anyone who approached me. you'd never notice the pain behind that smile. It's burned out….burned out. Crowed my head again. All I can do is hurt over and over. I'm hurting u, myself and him. la la la la la la la. This morning I told myself I could change but all I ever do if screw it up. Maybe this time, oh wait today but I can't I have failed u again and again. I just can't shut my big mouth. Words come out like knifes that scar u and leave you with the pain of guilty lies. I'm drowning in blood. Too much emotions going through my heart. Pain, love, guilt… and lots of other things. Too much overwhelming me. I'll be the girl who cries herself to sleep at night rethinking these memories. I've always been the
Forgotten girl.I was the forgotten girl.Forgotten girl. in Free Verse More Like This
I've been used and discarded, I've got nothing left.
I'm exhausted and emotional.
I'm numb from the pain, although it still stings a bit.
Then you came into my life..
You took away all the hurt
You made me happy again
Even made me feel better about my self
You protected me from what i've been hiding from my entire life.
Terror in TearsShe was clutching his dark blue hoodie with fervor, as though the only thing keeping her body from bursting open from nerves was the ardor grip she kept on his physical being. She was still horribly distraught, even after the sobs of her brother had quieted down and he came to her room to hold her in his arms, gently caressing her cheeks to rid her of her tears while neglecting his own.Terror in Tears in Short Stories More Like This
She didn’t understand. All she had done was come home fifteen minutes late. Her bus had gotten a late start from the school because one of the boys had decided to chance a suspension for a day of infamy by pulling the fire alarm during the last bell. It wasn’t like she had gone to play hooky or had gotten herself hurt.
So why was her brother gripping his head so hard that his fingertips were bloody when she got home? Why was he weeping and moaning utter gibberish? Why did he insist on continuing his unsettling back and forth rocking, even when she told him what happened and showed him that s
Scars and SoapHe has such soft skin, Ebony thought to herself.Scars and Soap in Short Stories More Like This
She was sitting on a twist of metal embedded in the ground, the dingy red of its form reflecting on the crystalline surface of nearby water. Her metallic fingers twiddled in the flowers, gently caressing the pale petals that would soon decorate the entire expanse of the area.
They were modest little flowers. Fresh from the ground and eager to bathe the barren world in color. In fact, everything around the little pond Ebony and Male had decided to rest at was beginning to show signs of life. Little sprouts could be seen tentatively peaking from under scraps of metal and concrete. Green moss and vines were tenaciously climbing up the sides of the crumbling buildings. Cool, clean water was gently lapping at Ebony’s shoes. It was so serene it was almost surreal.
A small smile graced Ebony’s glossy lips. It was good that she and Male had decided to rest here. It was unusual to come across a place this untouched by the horro
Ode to SoulsOde to Souls in Free Verse More Like This
our society is built on the binary of proper lines.
spotless, picturesque, sanitary lives trailing cycle upon cycle of symmetry.
yet we function better without framed order.
we have wanderlust built into our core; we bleed out the seasons when it suits us.
our lives are made of tire treds feeding the clouded sunset, skies pouring violently over
ravenous hearts seeking catharsis.
the nyctophiliac, the heliophiliac.
the nemophilist, the pluviophile.
if we breathed in your blank normalcy, we'd crumble and die.
Today, I DiedToday, I died.Today, I Died in Free Verse More Like This
They strung me up on a rainbow rope
And lit a fire beneath my feet.
Actually, I'm enjoying the warmth.
Lesbian.I chose this life.Lesbian. in Free Verse More Like This
I chose to set myself up as an Outcast.
I chose to hear my best friends
Tell me that I am going to hell.
I chose to hear the words Dyke and Faggot
Spat through scornful lips in my direction.
I chose to lose the love of my Family.
To hear them say that I was sick.
That I was wrong.
I chose to place the dreams
Of marrying the person I love
In a file marked as classified
By popular demand.
I chose to have the doors of my church
Slammed in my face
Because apparently, I am the exception to
"Love your fellow man."
I chose to be chastised
For holding hands in public.
I chose to look over my shoulder
At every corner
Afraid for my life simply because
I fell in love.
I chose this life.
I chose to be a Lesbian.
MutantHear me read itMutant in Free Verse More Like This
I am a mutant.
| My skin does not sallow in the sun
and I do not blush jaundice through my cheeks.
| I do not have extra fingers, or toes -
although my spine;
it boasts an ironic vertebrae,
it is a long tally of the hearts I have broken
and when I straighten my spine the bones Pop out of place.
I am out of place.
| I do not have a super power,
I lack exceptionality in all but my ordinariness.
| there is a vengeful bacteria feasting -
on my shoulder places;
HatredYou are a hemorrhage. You are the violent implosion of my blood under my skin that makes it itch like I am morphine-high. You are my blood seeping from arteries into artillery and shooting holes through my over-ripened heart. You are the snarl on my lip and scars across my forearms that burst open when I over reach my capabilities. You are the writhing groaning dying beast in my ribbed cage that aches for a kill. If I released you, you would snap my neck and watch me spurt out the only truth between us; my blood. You are venom and sap, holding my structure together from otherwise limp apathy but nonetheless you are poison, and how I hate you, hatred.Hatred in Free Verse More Like This
WallpaperShe leaves the window to let the rain in. She watches the lazy river form and fall, seeping into the designer wallpaper and staining it. She watched the rain tug at the seams of the walls and imagined the room coming undone around her. She imagined the ceiling caving in and crushing her. She lay still and watched the rain fall. She lay still and tried not to breathe, to burn, to break.Wallpaper in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
How Do You Like Your Eggs In The Morning?Sunnyside up.How Do You Like Your Eggs In The Morning? in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The pan was still warm when I dropped it into the sink. We had eggs. You had them sunnyside up, but I couldn't bear runny egg whites and so I had scrambled. Just in case. You found your right shoe and left. I sat at the kitchen table drumming my fingers against the buttercup plastic cloth and thought about Life with a capital L. What was it all about?
I started to think of breakfast as a metaphor for us. You had it all together. Sunnyside up. I was scrambled. A convoluted tick of a person. I started to consider my life as being thoroughly forked. I watched the birds outside the kitchen window for a while and did not relate them to what I had just eaten. After a long slither of time had passed I got up and washed the pan until the eggs were gone. You never came back. I learnt not to mind.
Circus: The FunambulanceWalking the tripwireCircus: The Funambulance in Free Verse More Like This
between not glorifying suicide
and not patronising people
with the lie; I would never
- I suck in my nausea and fight
not to close my eyes as I
vulnerable and afraid
in front of my tenderhucked audience.
Their eyes pluck out
and give an attentive
standing ovation as I exhale
and stagger forward
- a shout,
a fall -
and for a moment
I wonder if there is
a safety net there for me at all,
and if my devoted audience
would prefer to see my
neck//shatter on stage.
Don'tTook double the dose to watch the ceiling spin,Don't in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
think about all the mistakes in my life again.
Gaze up and try not to cry tonight;
wake up to the way the stars shine so bright
I lie and take in the plaster
God knows what it is that I'm after
I lie and shake and cry til it's over
then I try to move to the sofa
and I'd rather be anywhere else.
As the world starts to blur there's no one but me
and I let my life slip indifferently
and if you were here, you'd not say goodbye
you'd catch all my tears and then you would sigh
I lie and take in the plaster
God knows what it is that I'm after
I lie and shake and cry til it's over
then I try to move to the sofa
and I'd rather be anywhere else.
When days are hectic and filled with emotion
all I desire is to stop the commotion
but nights are so lonely, life is so dreary
and I see the dark things so very clearly
CarboniseI carbonise.Carbonise in Free Verse More Like This
My brittle bones turn
into pencil lead
and etch and ache against me.
I break open my elbow
and scrawl onto the walls
with the charcoal beneath.
a cave drawing of my end
onto a blistered skin
of plaster and mortar.
I rub blackened bone
to make sparks flutter
and bounce across the brickwork
The Boy Who Wouldnt EatIf you can flutterThe Boy Who Wouldnt Eat in Free Verse More Like This
I have failed you,
for you were not forged
to be so insubstantial as that
You were writ
to be an epic fable
of endings ignored,
of outlasting your body
through the sheer will
of a writers starving heart
through a broken, bowed
but bravely abiding body
that fights the soul
to comprehend Beauty.
Lay me outLie me under the morturer,Lay me out in Free Verse More Like This
under the mortar
and forget of me
until the periwinkle blue
reminds you of nothing more
than the slate of the sea.
What are you putting into this?
Is it heart
or is it blood?
Lay my life out singularly
upon the slab.
Lay it out;
music and bones spread out
like oils saturated into the canvas
and bleeding out,
like blackcurrants rolled
on table linen
until mothers' fingers run blue
across the collarbones
who groan of war in their sleep.
My quiet life might ricochet.
Lay it out,
and my life might stain then
it might leave echoes
and talk to itself in caves
and whisper of a madman
who collected other peoples pains -
I can't help that. (I've tried)
All I can do is hope
that when I die
you lay me under the mortar
The Car The car's front bumper was missing and it's face was collapsed and charred in such a way that it looked as if it had sucked it's lips into it's mouth after tasting lemon. The car's sour expression was not helped any by the slant of the windscreen wipers which added a defeated sullenity to the whole affair. The car stared with dead eyes across the heads of row after row of pretty suburban houses that collectively made the Esbrough Estate that lay, amid other debris, at the foot of the hill to which the car now belonged.The Car in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It sat, it watched, it rusted. Parts were stolen by adults, children and then birds. When a door fell off it became the home to a family of mice for two summers until the grass grew through the holes. The car died suddenly, but decomposed much slower than its owner, who quickly reverted to worms and forgot about the car entirely.
pre-apocalyptic response/logi don't understand the sentimental value of these arrangements,pre-apocalyptic response/log in Free Verse More Like This
we are foreign even to each other,
although i try to fit into your skin
suffocatingly synthetic slimy heavy and
tadpoles blasting out of my throat,
as far apart as planets can be
and you are not the world but a world and even then
black hole of a raindrop
as we all are when/(unless) we begin; i am making sounds
ending this on a flat d-drone; you see how hard it is for me
to understand mechanics; adream in
uncircumcised unsubsidized grea
the unfinishedit happens sometimesthe unfinished in Free Verse More Like This
that the artist is absent-minded
as usual, standing on the edge
of this very cliff. and the wind
for a being
that now never happened and never will,
where did it go,
over the plaintive steppes, perhaps,
over a chain smoker ocean,
leaving the place
to disease thrusting a buzzard foot
into a psyche that will grow
to lick the rings
on its claws.
it happens someday
between soundless howling in strangers' bedrooms,
and the odd job, cleaning
a stolen bottle of aged port,
through the cracked glass bottom
light seeps in,
the fair-haired child in a triple toe loop.
and the baffled man-child
fixed costsbut not all distance isfixed costs in Free Verse More Like This
shredded away patiently by time;
a block of hard ice is wedged
between two mountains. the fixed
costs of stupidity
become apparent as
someone closes their eyes and becomes
a block of hard ice in the
mountain lake. an avalanche erupts,
(someone told me my wings were metal
hello, gentle white-mane,
it is not your time. perhaps your time
is the too-late distance
across the permafrosted bridge
jamming up the shredder -
the burning lights showseven p.m. and the sun hasn't set yet:the burning lights show in Free Verse More Like This
a sure sign of survival;
you think your performance wasn't half bad today, you could have
even passed for a human;
the voice tells you with unprecedented urgency
to stop freezing your ass off and take that bus; not that it goes
anywhere you know,
a thousand tiny suns explode; the christmas tree just
tangerine rinds and plastic needles ground into the
shit-stained snow; there is a part of you
sniffing glue and bleached
soviet ceilings that you'll never be able
to explain to anyone else;
symbolism is stupid, you think,
you wish the world would shut up its jaws because thoughts
tighten dryly in-between your scarred brain tissue; there is still
some part of you protruding like a f
can't#000000 rectangles in place of body partscan't in Free Verse More Like This
sometimes a fleshed out segment torturous
those boxes assembled/reassambled
from certain angles
it almost looked human
all blown away"letall blown away in Free Verse More Like This
the old sucker
freeze his tail"
to the beggars' gallows.
glaze of misunderstanding
coats your mousy eyes. mighty glad
as a loose leaf, all
hail the underdog -
the strong, the unflinching;
it is part of the
up the king kong macho tower; roots
defying gravity, you are now a
shaking off the leaves
because it is highly probable that when
you fall again, there will be no one to take care of you
& you will lie low in the ditch, the now-dry
& even if
you ever bounce back, no cologne can mask
the unmistakable stench of sewage.
however, only the blue and better above
is truly merciless; these streets were churned out
by your kin, so you can always count on
a pitying trickle of vomit
from a whore or a local charity or both;
perhaps even the occasional sacred idiocy of love. perhaps.
a goal is set (before the sun)assuming control like driving an old buggya goal is set (before the sun) in Free Verse More Like This
the left wheel refuses to turn
the glass isn't bulletproof all those familiar
graze wounds in the cellophane
there will be more
barren soundscapes to explore
what kind of moon dune what kind of infrasound bird
hark there's a signal from the left
but you must get there anyway
have you learned to live with yourself if yes then good forget it
keep your eyes on the terrain
when two lives1.when two lives in Free Verse More Like This
darren sits cross-legged on the floor by the fireplace,
tired after scouring the apartment for leftovers of yesterday's feast.
somehow he's the only one left sober,
it's as if the place had been evacuated
maybe a week ago, yesterday
can mean a lot of things;
darren rests against the barely warm fireplace,
he is clueless as to how to turn it on,
equally clueless with women;
darren is slouched on the floor
drafting a letter he will send but at first
he will find some leftovers
and maybe get desperate enough to finish that bottle of champagne
when damon wakes up, he finds himself surrounded by
mermaids holding sticky hands (group therapy,)
asleep, fish heads on the round table;
when damon tries to leave he shakes off
sickly blueish cobweb that enamels
their anemic backs and lips;
when damon cracks his back and waves
at the sun, still hungover,
he sees the nobody-that-respondses
long-beak-deep in trash cans apparently
looking for something; morning/day
is stilted and his knuckles are
presencehad a dreampresence in Free Verse More Like This
you had shaved your head and
tattooed your breasts
but in the back of the train
you laughed your old good-natured laugh
i'll evaporate, leaving
your palms cold
you see one day i'll be on a train too
rushing up a merciless incline
hunching i'll be watching you
through a wall of splintered raindrops
maybe there were times when i was present,
but never this
.pour love all. in Free Verse More Like This
over, then strike
the fire will
burn itself out,
but the ruins
.hell is. in Free Verse More Like This
the devil's chest,
an empty red cavern
he's simply trying
.he stood on the shore,. in Free Verse More Like This
and told the sea he loved her;
the jealous wind tore his
voice in two
.when her love left, it left. in Free Verse More Like This
the house empty
and she says
i hope one day it'll
come back to me,
cos i don't keep this shotgun
on my front porch for nothin'
.if you were here i'd forget you again,. in Personal More Like This
hack your name with a cleaver and wipe off
the ink on my apron, spend the rest of my days
stained black in the creases of all my fingers
and thumbs, i know there is a lesson waiting,
maybe in the summerlands i'll see a blinding
my funeral pyre,
lost in the woods it will come to me, wings clipped
and say, it's time you picked a side
and stuck with it, wear yourself down to your bones
and make it quick, he's coming, well what if i want
to sicken and die? lay my head in the hydrangeas and fade
from purple to blue, just wither away, okay? well
yeah but not in a day, i guess i'll have to stay
on the doorstep drunk, a waste of skin
and time, i hear
the bark of next door's dog and wonder
if he knows
(too many souls)
.i pass a heart drunk. in Personal More Like This
in the gutter trying to pull
itself together, he says
i had a job,
a life, that fucking
but he's a liar -
she says she had to let
me go -
(i shut my eyes and cross the road)
.she reckons sometimes. in Personal More Like This
i'm still nineteen,
eat he says, more -
i'm still sixteen,
i fill the sink with hot,
submerge my arms up to
my elbows to observe them
changing colour, turn -
i'm stuck at five, i'm on the
kitchen floor and burning,
stuck at ten and running,
with my feet all full of glass -
i said they all have names, have
ages, but were gifts
from different fathers
(the favourite lies between middle and ring)
.i've been dreaming. in Personal More Like This
ribs poking up
through the ground,
a white and fleshless
thing that rattles
in his sleep,
haunches bare and clean
as a whisker,
he wretches with
the face of a devil,
he drops me
a sack of love
in the morning,
on the carpet
as well as the eye,
am i showing
enough backbone now?
a crescent moon on
my skull of
so he can gaze
at it even in death,
i don't care much
for the rites but
he looks good
on my bedside table
i close my eyes
to those three
on my wall,
i don't see
i don't speak
i don't hear
(what is this, a fucking cathedral?)
SuicideSuicide in Short Stories More Like This
Wanna kill yourself? Imagine this. You come home from school one day. You've had yet another horrible day. You're just ready to give up. So you go to your room, close the door, and take out that suicide note you've written and rewritten over and over and over. You take out those razor blades, and cut for the very last time. You grab that bottle of pills and take them all. Laying down, holding the letter to your chest, you close your eyes for the very last time.
A few hours later, your little brother knocks on your door to come tell you dinners ready. You don't answer, so he walks in. All he sees is you laying on your bed, so he thinks you're asleep. He tells your mom this. Your mom goes to your room to wake you up. She notices something is odd. She grabs the paper in your hand and reads it. Sobbing, she tries to wake you up. She's screaming your name. Your brother, so confused, runs to go tell Dad that "Mommy is crying and sissy won't wake up." Your dad runs to your room. He looks at y