Look behind you.
"Are you okay?"
Shapes, forms, bodies, animals, plants
Shifting, moving, being
"What's wrong with you?"
You're a freak.
No one wants you.
You should kill yourself, let them out of their misery
Or we'll do the job for you.
"They're fake, you know."
No they're not.
"What are you doing?"
This is how I live.
Save me, from the monsters, the shadows
"What can I do?"
You can stop.
You can stop being ignorant
The Face At The DoorThe face at the door is a demon, a godThe Face At The Door in Free Verse More Like This
He smiles through stitches, his stare rather odd
The face at the door is a cruel, silent being
Yet, people are calm, and the children aren't fleeing
Quiet yourself, for you're the only one
Crying for help at the point of a gun
Learn how to fly, rather, learn how to fall,
The face at the door... well... there's no face at all.
AsylumWho are you?Asylum in Free Verse More Like This
Where are you?
What... are you?
The blinding white walls
Closing in on you
Who are you?
Certainly not that
happy little girl
jumping through fairy tales
as a sunset paints the silver sky.
Where are you?
Definitely not where
you'd want to be.
What are you?
Blood, scars, wounds.
All you see are shadows
In a room of white walls...
I Love You, DaddyDaddy, please don't touch me.I Love You, Daddy in Free Verse More Like This
It doesn't feel good.
It makes me feel..
Daddy, please don't hit me.
I didn't mean to disappoint you.
When you hit me, it makes me feel...
Daddy, please don't hurt her.
Mommy didn't do anything.
When you hit her, it makes me feel..
Daddy, please don't say you love me.
I know you're lying.
When you say you still want me, it makes me feel...
Daddy, please stop screaming at her.
You already killed her.
When you scream at her, it makes me feel..
Daddy, stay there.
Let me sink the knife into your throat.
When you bleed, it makes me feel..
Daddy, aren't you happy now?
As you lie there, lifeless.
I'm only following your footsteps.
This makes me feel...
Daddy, please listen.
I know you can't hear me, but...
I still love you.
The same way you always loved me.
And it makes me feel...
It makes me feel..
Mommy, He's LyingMommy, he said it, he said it was true.Mommy, He's Lying in Free Verse More Like This
Mommy, he said it, he said "I love you."
Mommy, he said it, he said it was real
Mommy, please know how to think, how i feel
Mommy, this love is the truth, it's the way
Mommy, he said it, he said it today.
Mommy, he's lying, he's lying to me
Mommy, he's telling a lie, can't you see?
Mommy, he never did mean what he said
Mommy, his voice is pounding in my head.
Mommy, he's lying, his love isn't pure
Love's a disease and he's finding the cure.
Mommy, he's lying, what else can I say...
Mommy, he hit me, he killed me today.
Mommy, he lied to me, why did he lie?
Mommy, he lied through his tears, through his cries
Mommy, his lies I just couldn't see through
Mommy, he lied to me.
What'd I ever do?
Good Enough... for YOU.As I sit here cradling the blade in my handsGood Enough... for YOU. in Free Verse More Like This
Treasuring the moments I wish that I had
I can't stop growing more lost and confused
I can't stop thinking... am I good enough for you?
As I sit here, wrapping the rope around my neck
No one will understand a meaning so complex
I simply can't stop thinking about it somehow
Thinking, am I good enough for you now?
As I sit here, pulling the trigger on the gun
I think, maybe I was never meant for "the one"...
goes the bullet.
For when I think it through...
I really won't ever be good enough for you.
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.
Bipolar DisorderI am a victim of a shadow named fourteenBipolar Disorder in Free Verse More Like This
And a little girl, my old best friend who turned into a demon.
Fourteen human figures without a face… they attack my soul
And everybody’s staring at me without an honest reason.
I am a victim of the people of the world
Who only want to hurt me, and my innocent family
Terrified of the ones around me, even those I love
When a nightmare becomes my reality.
I can’t take a shower without peeking outside the curtain
And I can’t close my eyes when I wash my hair
Because I’m horrified, afraid that when I open them
I’ll see somebody with a bloody face angrily standing there.
Sometimes I unlock the doors and then lock them again
And to be honest, I’m not completely sure why
And I can’t go upstairs at night, because what if there’s a fire?
I won’t be able to make it out in time.
I am a victim of a shadow named fourteen
And a little girl, my old best friend who turned into a demon.
And somehow, ou
GravityI promise I’m not like everybody else.Gravity in Free Verse More Like This
I’m not here to
I’m not here to
I’m here to
I’m here to
I’m here to
Please don’t say I’m like everybody else.
Because I’m not here to
But sometimes, gravity is
Sometimes you’re going to
But I promise, even if I’m not there…
I’ll still be there, for you.
When I SaidWhen I said I wanted a fairy taleWhen I Said in Free Verse More Like This
I meant I wanted a prince.
I didn't want to be locked in a
I didn't want to be fought by a
I didn't want
When I said I wanted a fairy tale
I meant I wanted to be a princess.
I didn't want to watch a rose
I didn't want to wear the gown
I wanted it
When I said I wanted a fairy tale...
I expected it to end in a
But i never expected it to end like this.
And Daddy always lied.My legs are covered in bruisesAnd Daddy always lied. in Free Verse More Like This
And I have a scar by my left eye.
I’m not allowed to smile, though
And I’m not allowed to cry.
I think my right arm’s broken
But shh, don’t tell my dad.
He doesn’t like to worry bout me
When he’s already mad.
I have a burn on my left wrist
From when he pushed my arm
Against the stove, the hot, hot stove
And did a bit of harm.
I have a bear, a teddy bear.
He doesn’t have a name.
He makes me better every time
I’m feeling hurt and shame.
Today, my dad came home kind of late
A beer still in his hand.
I closed my eyes and waited.
He screamed, he shouted, and…
Well, my name is Mary Starr
And this is how I died.
But daddy always loved me.
And daddy always lied.
NaPoWriMo: Day 8I was toldNaPoWriMo: Day 8 in Free Verse More Like This
to slice through the thickest
of scar tissue this evening.
Let all my inner demons
fall to the floor
& write them out
in my own black blood.
It’s not red anymore,
even though needles
& the bruises
laid out like war-lands
on my arms
I don’t think it ever was,
My mind is a mess
of free versed insecurities,
cat’s eye marbles,
& untamed forest fires-
I still don’t have the nerve
to slice open my skin
& bleed for her.
NaPoWriMo Day: 1I’ve got 30 daysNaPoWriMo Day: 1 in Free Verse More Like This
to defy Icarus:
teach this rose thorn heart
how to fly.
[ All I want to be
is the space between
But, I’m here,
ripping holes in blank pages
while nursing nebulae knuckles
with white plastered walls.
NaPoWriMo: Day 6It’s hard enoughNaPoWriMo: Day 6 in Free Verse More Like This
to love her skin on good days,
to wide eyed strangers
as if to fill the emptiness
in her own gut;
she lives on a diet of sad stories &
you must shed your own skin
to save it.]
NaPoWriMo: Day 9More respectNaPoWriMo: Day 9 in Free Verse More Like This
for hungry lions,
doesn’t want to write this poem.
As she forgets how to use words
(on most days,)
relying on curses
like casting some witch's spell-
with only ten dollars to her name.
The oldest daughter:
she’s still somewhere in the middle,
because they had no other way
to categorize her.
Getting her first gravestone at three-
not to the gods,
but to the lily stargazers
in her palms.
she would become a bird,
& never come back.
She doesn’t want her death
laid out like a fast-food
how does she begin to explain
cultivating in her breastbone?
NaPoWriMo: Day 10 Have you ever been so cold, Sweetheart,NaPoWriMo: Day 10 in Free Verse More Like This
your knees q u a k e d like that Jenga piece
that buckled just before your whole foundation
& no matter
how many times
I've restarted your heart,
one would think
I'd grow tired,
I'm still writing you in poetry
(in the most inappropriate of places.)
You forced yourself beneath my blades
& my fingertips,
Licking unstable knees,
you were death on my tongue:
angry apricot eyes, unforgivable sin
scaring my limbs &
haunting my dreams.
& I'd still try to save your fucking life.
I'm talking myself in circles,I screamed,I'm talking myself in circles, in Free Verse More Like This
"There is nothing
wrong with me, not a damn
I wanted to believe
the big dipper on my arm
meant something more
than sun marks & kisses.
But, how can I trust words
that slip through my teeth
as easy as breathing
when this star
has only ever learned
how to f
NaPoWriMo: Day 3Today,NaPoWriMo: Day 3 in Free Verse More Like This
I wanted to pluck my ribs
from out my chest &
hang them about my house
like wind chimes-
a taunt for hungry wolves.
I didn’t grab for sharp objects,
I just wrote about it.
I never knew
I wanted to be a writer
until I lost something.
I still don’t know what that is-
(my mind, maybe.)
they fill gaps
that had no stories
to keep them
from hollowing out
in the first place.
I wish...I’ve been sitting on your doorstep for three days.I wish... in Free Verse More Like This
Here are the nothings I left under the mat:
i.I do not feel like a lion anymore,
an alpha wolf, a hyena or
any other strong-willed beast.
I want to take my scars
out to lunch,
feed them your eyes,
& your tongue
until it bleeds sorrow,
and “please forgive me’s”.
iii. You wish I never existed
as you grind those words
into my wrists like they are
red hibiscus blossoms.
& I’ll have you know
I am a flower, bloomed,
rooted deep into the soil.
You are just a combination
of 26 letters-
an “I wish…”
Hear me howl.Tell me again, Father,Hear me howl. in Free Verse More Like This
I’m the perfect daughter-
when all I want to be
is the crescent moons
resting like strong soldiers
in the grooves of my palms.
I am but
quaking with frostbite,
numbed with rage.
A wolf's jaw:
locked, teeth tearing
into the chilled flesh
of your neck.
roadkillYou told meroadkill in Free Verse More Like This
I was November’s ambrosia
sweet on your tongue.
But now all I feel
is discord, sieging
the 3,000 year old tree
inside of me.-
Centuries to grow so tall
9 mere minutes to
You no longer smile anymore.
And I am here,
silent as stone-
the carcass of a dead...
hoping you don't leave me
on the side of the road.
Cross My WristsCross my wrists and hope to die,Cross My Wrists in Free Verse More Like This
I will only ever lie
When you ask me if I’m fine
Or if I like this life of mine.
If I had a gun,
I’d put it to my head
And turn bouncy blonde,
Into ruby red.
You want me to stop cutting;
I’ll stop when I’m dead.
The last time I’ll cut
Will be the last thing I see
When I finally put an end to me.
Dying sounds good right now,
Just fading into black
And never coming back
To the agony living brings.
Perhaps you’ll find me hanging,
Or after OD’ing;
Someday soon you’ll find me,
It’s too late now,
I’m too far gone.
Now I’m just a ghost
Of who could’ve been someone.
Things I'll Never SayThere are certain things I’ll never say,Things I'll Never Say in Free Verse More Like This
Like how I thought about killing myself today
Just to keep my own scary thoughts away.
Like how I stay awake way too late
To be sure I don’t awake in a bloody state.
Like how I soaked white into red last night
And turned myself into a ghastly sight.
Like how it hurts too much to breathe
When I make my own skin seethe.
Like how I Google things I shouldn’t
When I want to do things I couldn’t.
Like how I’m scared of being alone
Yet I’m only happy when I’m on my own.
Like how I know I’ll wind up killing myself
And turn into just a dusty photo on a dusty shelf.
Like how I make myself bleed every day
Even though I know I can’t go on this way.
Like how I maybe want someone to see
And for them to somehow help me.
But nobody will ever help me,
Because those are all the things I’ll never say.
To BurnI want to set my skin on fireTo Burn in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
With Death’s icy embrace.
I want to make my head stop
And my broken heart race.
I want to fade into black
Like fog over the sea.
I want to save them the bother
Of worrying about me.
I want to bleed myself white
Until I really am just a shell.
I want to miss out on heaven
Just to escape this cursed hell.
I want to see her face again
So I can tell her my regret.
I want her face to leave me
So that I can maybe forget.
I want my friends to be happy
But I stop that from being so.
I want to lose all control
And let the red blood flow.
I want to leave this place
And abandon all breath.
I want to do something right
And that something is death.
Another Fallen OneThere was a lady on telly today,Another Fallen One in Free Verse More Like This
Talking from a land far away;
Her kid had died,
Torn apart from the inside.
The kid had hung herself in the family bathroom.
The lady was crying,
You could hear her heart dying
And mine did too.
I could've been that kid,
What with all the things I did
And my family could've been her;
Left with nothing but despair.
I envy the kid
For doing what she did.
I thank the kid,
Making me think about what I nearly did.
I mourn the kid,
Gone because of what others did.
Don't ever think you wouldn't be missed,
Because there's always that person
Who'll miss you,
Praying you'll pull through
Until memories of your smile is all they have.
What You WantMaybe you want them to noticeWhat You Want in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Maybe you want them to see
Maybe you want them to care about
How you’re lost and lonely me.
Maybe you want them to ask
Maybe you want them to know
Maybe you want them to care about
How your happiness is a show.
Maybe you want them to quiet
Maybe you want them to listen
Maybe you want them to care about
How your blood does glisten.
Maybe you want them to leave you
Maybe you want them to die
Maybe you want them to care about
How your life’s just a lie.
UselessI'm a cutterUseless in Free Verse More Like This
That's all I'll ever be
Once you've learnt that
Defining fact about me.
You'll call me mad
Assume that I'm sad
And that I want
You'll check my arms
Only matters if you can see
But I can hide them
All over me.
You'll think I'm sick
Sick in the head
And that makes me feel
Like I want to be dead.
I don't do it
I don't do it
For a mention
I don't do it
I do it because of
That it's cast over me.
Such a ContradictionI'm just that fat kidSuch a Contradiction in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Starved of hope.
I'm just that cutter
Reaching for rope.
I'm just that dumb blonde
Reading all night.
I'm just that coward
Bleeding for a fright.
I'm just that child
I'm just that girl
With messy hair.
I'm just that burner
Wanting to be cool.
I'm just that geek
Scared of school.
I'm just that emo
Smiling with glee.
You're just another drone
But you'll never be me.
Life ItselfThe only time I smiled todayLife Itself in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Was when I thought of dying
And how good I am at lying
Each and every single day.
I've got a box of painkillers
They sleep right by my bed
For when all I see is red,
They'll numb it into darkest white.
I've tried talking to people,
But I can't word what I want to say
And maybe I like living this way,
Knowing that I'll die soon.
I know I'm self-destructive
My crosshatch skin screams it
But inside there's a little bit
That still aches to be saved.
I've tried before and I'll try again
To put my worthlessness away
But fate forced me to stay;
Death's a bitch like that.
Life makes me want to die
Yet it won't let me leave
Or grant me a reprieve
From that which it's made me hate;
ThousandsI'm sixteen,Thousands in Free Verse More Like This
Doubt I'll see thirty
Hopefully my blade'll be dirty
And I'll die.
I don't want to die;
Just want it to stop,
Everything in my head
Telling me I'm better off dead.
I cut myself,
I said it.
Just read it.
I'm just some kid
Behind a screen,
So why should you care?
I'm not just 'some kid';
I'm the ones people laugh at,
I'm not a minority;
I'm a majority.
All those kids alone,
That death will come.
We're not hopeless.
We hope for
Red ScreamsSmiling at me, shiny silver teethRed Screams in Free Verse More Like This
Begging my wrist
For one chaste
Grinning at me, that evil smirk
Making my heart pound
So sharp so
I know I
And really I
Arm’s too full of blood
From attempts to
Join the stars.
Photo album of
My diary of my
I am still
Metaphorically SpeakingPeople are like books;Metaphorically Speaking in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
full of stories and easily
broken at the spine.
ContactIt’s too brief to be a proper memoryContact in Free Verse More Like This
but I remember it all the same –
me, standing, hands resting on a chair;
you, bustling about the room
just behind me,
a brief hand against the concave of my backside,
and you’re out the door.
CopenhagenLet’s meet again in an alternate universeCopenhagen in Free Verse More Like This
where your eyes are brown and I dyed my hair black
because I hated being a natural blue.
I’ll teach you to play guitar
and you’ll show me how to fly,
scholars caught in an intellectual love affair,
a tandem bike going nowhere.
I’ll know you by the gentleness
of your fingertips and you’ll need
no identifier but the slant of my handwriting,
because, world to world, some things don’t change.
NotchesThere is a tree as old as me inNotches in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
the midnight garden.
There’s no sound but the wind
and fingerprints of rain
drumming a thousand dreams
against my window.
My hair is growing long.
I left myself behind
on the growth chart carved
into each notch of the trunk,
leaving just a memory
running through April avenue.
Loving a WriterWhen you read their work –Loving a Writer in Free Verse More Like This
and it is work,
and you will often come second to the job –
it’s best to know which pieces are fictions,
which ones are wishes,
and which parts are for you.
Autumn was my first love.October, I follow you -Autumn was my first love. in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
from the magic lights of New York
to moonshines in Georgia,
until the colors dissolve.
The anxious poetry of autumn
made a memory of me.
Here’s to things I take for granted:
country road thunderstorms.
Unspoken words, unwritten ideas.
October, I follow you;
I thought I saw you on the shore
where the river runs through gold
on the last boat leaving the city of a hundred spires -
or perhaps Pittsburgh
(it was the lights I guess).
Here’s to the things we leave behind:
sunbeams in November,
letters addressed to no one,
poems, wounds, dead birds.
I’ve got that summertime sadness.
Maybe you’re gonna come back;
we’re changing our ways, taking different roads
and loneliness knows me by name
but October, I follow you;
without you I’m a winter heart,
a love story you don’t want,
a November shade of grey hunting ghosts
in cities that sleep inside our heads.
You told me you lied the night you kiss
Winter was never my favorite season.It’s 3:05 a.m.Winter was never my favorite season. in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
and I am thinking I just
made you up to hurt myself.
Remember last winter:
they blamed the snow in our hands
for our blue flesh,
ocean snow settled
where they used to swim.
It’s 10:33 in the morning
and I am winter.
I am ice;
snow and sunrise;
chilly mornings from another time.
Tales of my winter heart
beckon like a big, flashing,
neon sign that says steal compass,
It’s 4:15 p.m.
The snowfall is so silent.
I know a place where
even the crickets can’t be heard,
winter air choking
It was a cold,
winter morning when you left:
when we realized it was a different kind of cold
caused by 3mm of distance
between our fingertips.
This is about forgetting your silence
and my vague memories.
The weatherman didn’t fail me –
when love grows cold,
ice shards crystalize on the black
lake surrounding my heart.
For the love of birdsThree little birds pitch on my doorstep.For the love of birds in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
I keep them in a jar
nothing I have is truly mine.
I am only the lonely,
waiting for it to come back to me.
I am a tiger.I am a tiger:I am a tiger. in Free Verse More Like This
I camouflage myself in crowds
with fingerless gloves
and white headphones
pumping urban melodies.
I am a tiger:
I don't belong to concrete cities
or country pastures,
but to dark corners
and abandoned ruins.
I am a tiger:
I have stripes on my wrists
and am hunted for sport
by men with fragile egos,
sated by destruction.
I am a tiger,
and my stripes have made me strong.
-My mind- in Free Verse More Like This
s h u t u p.
Too many "fuck you's"
that morph into
drip off this
Try and make it better. Fail. Try again. Break down.
So many faults
that seem to just
turn me into someone
Look into the mirror. See nothing but a clone. Fabrication. No longer me.
I stare and want
to break that glass
so that I can also
b r e a k.
Try and say something. Turns into nothing but rage. Take it out on you.
This shattered heart
only wants to make it
and become one again.
"I want to hate you."
"But I can't."
"So I hate me instead."
"But why won't this stop?"
"Why can't you make it stop?"
"...it's not my fault."
Say what you want to say. Honest brutality.
"H E L P M E"
It's time for me to
s h u t u p.
Carpe DiemFaces flushed,Carpe Diem in Free Verse More Like This
skin-on-skin contact and
frantic kisses in the
Bits and pieces all
wrapped up in
(un)poetic lips, burning
hotter than the sun.
"I don't give a
damn. I never want this
to stop. Oh, god, please,
this can't stop."
No care for the dimming of
the stars or the
moans that could wake
An intake of breath;
exhaling and eyes fluttering
open, pulse racing and
Misery settling on quivering
lips like a pandemic gliding
on blackened butterfly wings—
it was all just in her head.
confessions of a misguided poetcertain things in my mindconfessions of a misguided poet in Free Verse More Like This
would be better left unsaid,
i. how I stared at a bottle of pills
for an hour as if they would slide down
my throat on their own.
ii. when I stepped out of the shower
with bloody knees and didn't bother
to put a band aid over them.
iii. why I can't keep a smile long
enough for someone to take
iv. who I wanted to be when I was
a little girl and who I am
right here and now.
v. where I tried to jump off a
bridge and landed in water
deep enough for me to swim in.
vi. what I wanted to scream at
you that day but I just stayed
silent and hoped you would forget.
no more pretty words and
today; just life,
the truth, and everything
that I never want to tell
the dead and the dyingthe funny thing aboutthe dead and the dying in Free Verse More Like This
humans is that
we think we are
invincible and immortal
a tainted world
where cars drive
too damn fast.
i just try to
get by without
more than once.
these catastrophic disastersTherethese catastrophic disasters in Free Verse More Like This
is a storm inside her
chest; a miasma of
thundering insecurities and
flashes of despair. The irony
is, she has
astraphobia—but inside her
mismatched veins there lies a
tempest awaiting to be
set free. The most beautiful
people have the ugliest of
and hers just happen to be a
hurricane of chaotic
doubt marring the insides of her
GlacialJanuary wolves stalk her shivering heart;Glacial in Free Verse More Like This
bitter ice-fangs sink into feverish skin.
Frost devours slowly, succinctly, shamelessly;
yet the howling tossed chains around her
paper-thin limbs and dragged her down.
Arctic icebound lips quivering,
silver eyelashes fluttering emptily,
alabaster fingertips reaching out;
frenzied yet frozen and fractured.
"Drowning," she whispers in a winter song,
and places her mouth upon snow-dusted fur.
"Blood freezing in these frostbitten veins."
And then the pack of aurorean wolves bolt away,
leaving her smiling in the blizzard of humanity.
His queen, my muse.Pomegranate seedsHis queen, my muse. in Free Verse More Like This
have the most
bitter of tastes.
She is more
than a myth,
There are more
flames beneath her
skin than in all of
Hades. With every
breath she takes,
winter cries out
She is magenta.
A maiden of
jasper and agate;
lily eyelashes and
locks of supple ivy.
a hyacinth among
weeds and sweet
Poetry is:Poetry is:Poetry is: in Free Verse More Like This
the adhesive to
a fragmented soul;
broken wings that still dream of
F L Y I N G
how snapdragons breathe stardust
and orchids perform ensembles.
when 'imagination' and 'reality' at last discover a
c r o s s r o a d s,
and rush to embrace one another with fervent limbs.
why gravity seems to f
l, taking the world with it.
what flows through the veins of every pair of [shipwrecked; star-crossed] lovers.
who I am; who I was; and who I want to be.
Last night,I broke every bone in my bodyLast night, in Free Verse More Like This
so I could have a reason to drown
in the isolated ocean inside me.
when my dilapidated lungs finally caved in,
I swam ashore and crawled across the polluted sand.
Only glass-edged skin
and salt-licked eyelashes
can help me now.
broken dreams and invisible heartstringsEvery morning,broken dreams and invisible heartstrings in Free Verse More Like This
she wakes up to a
hollow chest & stormy,
red rimmed eyes.
It's so easy to be in love
with being in love;
swallowing fake truths
& sincere lies.
But her heart—
it forgot how to smile
two years ago,
because no one can tell
the difference between
imitations & reality.
please find me;
I'm lost between the cracks of
Desperate to breathe
yet wondering how it would feel
she's never belonged
in this universe.
SchizophreniaI'm scared of myself 'cause I hear voices in my head,Schizophrenia in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Telling me when I'm wrong, saying I should be dead,
The voices question my sanity until even I think I'm crazy
They tell me that I'm all alone, that no one stands by me,
They say I'm unwanted and feed on my fears,
They claim that when I cry no one sees or hears my tears,
That no one cares when I cry,
That no one will miss me when I die
When I'm angry or sad, they whisper in my ear
To eliminate the source of my pain, but I choose not to hear
Because I don't want to hurt anyone, to kill,
So then they tell me I should die, but I live through sheer will,
Hope that one day I'll wake up and the voices will be gone,
But I don't see how - they've been with me so long,
Questioning everything about me 'til I think I'm the worst,
Saying that the worst day in history was the day of my birth
The voices hurt me mentally, emotionally,
Sometimes they even hurt me physically
It's hard to live with them, to share my mind,
To feel like my brain isn't
On reality and other fictitious thingsI chewed out a pieceOn reality and other fictitious things in Free Verse More Like This
Of the sky
Spit it back out, again.
Maybe I’d be better off
From my fingers
Wiping down your
Bed frame spine
And collapsing your easel
Joints like a puzzle.
I swallowed the
Rains sticky heat
Like a shot
And it burns
Just the same.
She wrote of love on bathroom stallsThere’s something raw and organicShe wrote of love on bathroom stalls in Free Verse More Like This
About the way the human body
Arches and flexes and quivers
In the quiet darkness
Where pants and gasps
Fill the air with a charged pulse
The way the arms curve around the neck
And the flesh pulls against the skin
Taut, bend, flex
There is something honest
About the way
The body does not lie
The toes curl and the hips sway
When the silence is met like a lover
It’s just so fucking real, you know?
The shapes, the curves
Convex, concave then convex
The smearing of the lips
And resistance of the flesh
Whether they be between bed sheets or parked cars
The body lies writhing
The pulse, the sweat and curve of the waist
These are not the musings of the body
But the manifestations of the soul
on seeking solace in strangersAnd she felt like homeon seeking solace in strangers in Free Verse More Like This
her arms gave
way to the sand
castle of her
i loved her for it
she was a dragon
of a girl
beneath her eyes
from the corners
of her lips
like a faulty tap
to me she was beautiful
like those obscure
lapses in time
at 3.25 AM
with her legs
stretched across the
smoking my cigarettes
as she let her words
into the quiet
s p a c e s
she still sparkled
with this rebellious
twinkle in her eyes
and those eyes
they felt like home
all the doors
The older we get the better we used to beAll we ate that day were 3The older we get the better we used to be in Free Verse More Like This
To stifle the anxious shaking
Of our palms or
At least produce excuses for
The anxiety rustling beneath
Our scarred veins
When did the diamonds
Leave your bones
And for how long have
You been expiring without them
When did the construction
Of your false reality
Finally fall through
The fragile infrastructure
Of your factitious commentary
Lack the physical manifestation
Of your laboured breathing
Perhaps it's best if we ache
For magic and other childish things
Because the world hurts our eyes
And I don't want to see anymore
The skies are pressing against
Our glass houses and
The sun is bleeding over the rim
Of the bathtub
It's slow dripping
Pelting out a funeral song
The boy who hides in drugstores and late nightsBlindfolded airwaves hide his forest veinsThe boy who hides in drugstores and late nights in Free Verse More Like This
Where not even the moon can touch the lonely heart
Resting on his tightly buttoned sleeve
Insomnia drawn deeply into the creases of his eyes
Galaxies humming in time with his stuttering heartbeats
He hides behind nightlights to burn out his demons
Because the devils in the detail
and he's one hour away from tearing down the sky
Splintered amber bones searching for serendipitous moments
He longed not for the stars but rather
For those moments where the horizon kisses the earth
Bonfire irises with a knack for chasing time
Longing for the sun to seem real again
Carving his name into walls to be remembered
As the boy who went down swinging
suburban filthMy life is a joke andsuburban filth in Free Verse More Like This
I’m not laughing anymore,
But I swear I’m trying
I really am-
it’s just that
This town has ingrained itself
Into my lungs
To the point where
Pollution is anally fucking me
And that’s not poetic,
But it’s true
and it’s honest
But honesty is over rated;
And the truth like god
sounds better in theory
A little punk rocker with a gift for singing songsGirl with the rock and roll smirk curled behind her teethA little punk rocker with a gift for singing songs in Free Verse More Like This
Burning her insides for fun because there wasn’t much else to do
Aside from skipping stones across car parks
And sipping the last dregs of forbidden liquor
Behind broken trees to keep up the act of normality
Late at night when the moon is asleep
She lies on dismantled bed frames
Counting stars because lambs are too often sent to the slaughter
Lucky star heartbeats and posy veins
Hides broken windows behind her pupils
Ceiling lights tracing patterns on her cheekbones
As late night contemplation's lead back to Rome
Atlas limbs curled into her ribs
With a sense of obligation she carries the weight
Of a small child tucked behind her jaw
Elder sister turned hero minus the cape and nylon
Angel torn knuckles scraped and bruised
Walks upon the dry cracked ground
Searching for Atlantis hidden behind a little girls smile
The lost one's weepingListening attentively to the burnt out soundsThe lost one's weeping in Free Verse More Like This
Rusted wrists don’t know how to do anything
Other than to harm
Crack open the loaded guns
Clench a cigarette between breaths
I’d come to realize lungs are suffocating
So I cut them out with dandelion limbs
And tore out my eyes to avert my gaze
Aching for salvation I was greeted by empty pews
And broken hymn books scattered among the graves
Lost lamb prodigal son, there is no home to return to
Only ruins and car crash features lay
Where tombstones used to stand
Of boats and boutsWinter leaking into our phosphate spinesOf boats and bouts in Free Verse More Like This
Fingers curled and clawing at sun baked whispers behind our lips
Trying to convey what silence tastes like on parched lungs
Misfortune snapping at our humming bird fingertips
The lost do not wish to be found.
The unabridged memoirs of a teenage drop outI’d be lying if I saidThe unabridged memoirs of a teenage drop out in Free Verse More Like This
I didn’t want to spend those nights
Watching the moon hang between your pupils
Like a cadaver strung up high and dry
In the brittle November air.
But there’s something about that road kill smile
That was too fast, too cruel
You were intangible and indistinct
In the way you’d shake your cigarette packet
Hearing the contents rattle like a self-contained thunder storm
You were always like that,
So painfully self-aware you tried to suffocate yourself
In such a way that it was neither poetic nor beautiful
Rather disjointed in mathematics and skewed logic.
You were not romantic or tragically beautiful
You were a boy with a spine that could fracture the sky
If you pressed against it at the right angle
You had hands like braille
That shook when you thought you were alone
Slumped against a wall in an attempt to look blasé
When clearly there was a witch hunt seeping through your bones
I saw the way the knee jerk reaction
Of your carefu
Does Death Hurt?Does death hurt?Does Death Hurt? in Free Verse More Like This
When the knife digs into flesh
do you fall into your knees in pain
or simply in shock of motion?
When you slip away in the dark of sleep
does the dream still remain
as you travel to worlds unknown?
When the drugs hit your body
does your heart stop suddenly
or can you feel the imminent end?
When the noose slips tight
does your head feel heavy
and your limbs feel numb?
When the water rushes in
to the castle only of air
can you feel your breath cut off?
When the dirt piles over
and the air runs out
can you feel the choking?
So riddle me this,
oh master of death,
does it hurt to die?
DystopiaDirty water,Dystopia in Free Verse More Like This
and broken seams.
Cries in the night
as life becomes a fight
there's just no more light.
Men are trying,
women are running
children are crying
people are dying.
Let's go, he whispered.
I-It's dangerous, she stuttered.
But we can't just stay, they uttered.
Chaos roams the streets
and blood's on the ground like treats.
Dystopia never ends
as society bends.
Life shall be dystopia
and never a utopia.
Green InkShe writes with green inkGreen Ink in Free Verse More Like This
eternal scrawls upon the page.
She wrote with green ink,
because it was the color of his eyes,
and the pond in the park,
and the seats on the bus,
and the grass outside,
and rose stems.
She wrote with green ink
even when her boss yelled
and the teacher screamed
and nothing worked out.
Because green was her favorite
and it was his favorite as well
even when he was sick while
his skin was green.
He still loved the color green
when the dirt fell down
when he didn’t recover,
the grass that bloomed
was the most angelic jade.
And she still wrote in green ink
because it was the color of the grass,
and his favorite color
and the color of his eyes
on his last final days.
DaddyDaddy,Daddy in Free Verse More Like This
aren't you proud of me?
Haven't I done enough Daddy?
Am I not your little girl?
I'm sorry I'm not perfect,
but can you please come back?
I promise I'll do better.
I promise I can be perfect.
Don't you love me?
Look I drew you a picture,
will you come home now?
Where did you go?
Please come back.
Mommy says you don't care anymore
but I know it's not true.
It can't be true.
You don't even call anymore.
You said you loved me
and that I was your princess,
then why aren't you here?
Please come home.
I want my Daddy back.
HollowHome is where the heart is.Hollow in Free Verse More Like This
Well what if you don't have heart, per say?
I'm not sure I have one.
Don't get me wrong I have a heart.
I have the organ that pumps blood throughout the rest of my body.
But that's not what the phrase refers to.
It means where your emotions are, where you can be safe and loved and can give love in return.
What do I have?
What if I don't have that?
What if I don't 'feel' like everyone else?
What if I don't have a home like that?
Does that mean I don't have a heart?
Out of all the things I've been called, I've never been called heartless before.
All I ever wanted was people to be happy.
And they were never happy around me.
Cold, they said. Cruel, they called me.
They know nothing.
To be cruel, you have to feel.
To be cold, you have to know what warmth is.
I know neither of those things.
I know nothing of heart and home.
To feel, what is that like?
To have a home, what is that like?
To be loved, what is that like?
I'm so curious.
So tell me
Don't JumpDon't jump.Don't Jump in Free Verse More Like This
Everything's so difficult nowadays though.
Just take a step back.
Ya, and rejoin the shithole that is life.
It gets better.
Not with me.
I hate this.
I don't want to live anymore.
Please don't leave me.
You'll be fine on your own.
You don't know that.
Why can't you let me go?
I want to be at peace.
I don't want to lose you.
I'm not yours.
We don't always get what we want anyways.
Leave me to death.
Don't let your memories go to waste.
All I'm letting go of,
Are memories full of anger and hate.
How can I convince you?
If I can't convince you, I'll jump for you.
Why would you do that?
I don't know what you've been through
And I don't know for how long,
But I won't live without you.
And like I said,
If I can't convince you,
I'll jump for you.
Paper ButterfliesA cut, a tear, a fold,Paper Butterflies in Free Verse More Like This
slice of color and a cut or two,
and another paper butterfly is born.
IV drips in the hand
keeping everything in place
while the cuts and tears and folds
keeps going on.
One thousand, six hundred and sixty six.
That's the number
she was told to make.
One thousand, six hundred and sixty six.
Until she can get a wish.
A nice nurse had told her so,
and shown her how to make them
but she had only made thirty out of the
one thousand, six hundred and sixty six
It seemed like such an impossible number
that one thousand six hundred and sixty six
but our patient needed that wish
just like everyone else,
in that hospital that our patient was at.
Her wish though
was not what someone expects
from our patient who will not last much longer.
is for her family to be happy when she's gone
and that they won't miss her to much
and that they will find someone else
after she has gone.
isn't to stay
and to get better
because she knows
that it won'
Tea with the RabbitTea with the rabbit todayTea with the Rabbit in Free Verse More Like This
just the same as every day,
every single day and every single night.
And when he danced and sang
I could not join in merriment
for the ropes that bound did not budge
He would scream and cry while sipping tea,
and I would laugh while hiding tears.
He said he was late,
for what I know naught,
but he did not leave my nightmare.
“The Queen of Hearts is evil!”
And I agreed blindly. Yet I could not help
but wonder if she was really the evil one.
Dormouse, his friend of valiant honor,
rammed his sword into my thigh
and grinned when I wept and bled.
And my one and only friend sat across,
sipping his tea without a care, mumbling nonsense.
The giant hat upon his head outweighed his judgement.
Tea was scalding as it poured down my throat,
he didn't care as his feet thumped down
pleas to stop fell on deaf cottontail ears.
And when the cry of ‘off with her head!’ sounded
I couldn’t help but be relived and yet I still cried.
Definition of a Writerwrit•erDefinition of a Writer in Free Verse More Like This
A writer is a person
Who sees the world differently
From a high perspective of understanding
To an easily balanced imagery
They stand at the edge of the cliff
And run that extra mile
To gain what a normal person cannot see
And to obtain the hope that they wish to cherish
A writer is a person
Who buries their ego and places boulders upon it
They learn the rules, follow the rules, and will break the rules
And make writing their own
They lay upon the dusty old ground of a graveyard
And do an annual ritual to free the inspiration that has been pinned down
They want to show their abnormality to everyone around
And make this journey an unforgettable experience
Writers are masters of inspiration
And will set aside whatever may ruin the ecstasy of their writing
Which they will forever embrace
And will fight to claim the title author
In their world of words
Their stories are set free
Some are killed to b
I Am a WriterI am a writer.I Am a Writer in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Yes, it’s easy for me to fall into a dream.
But there is nothing wrong with being tighter
With a story’s theme.
I am a writer.
That is all I will ever want to be
In the end, my story will be lighter,
And my characters will finally be free.
I am a writer.
There is nothing easier to say than that.
I will never let a story wither
Nor let a story fall flat
I am a soon to be author.
With several books ready to be read,
I want them to have great honor
And wish there will be tears shed.