Hallelujahthere is an angel sitting next to me.Hallelujah in Free Verse More Like This
her hands are tucked like wings against each other,
each blue life-vein peeking out through
too-white, too-thin skin.
a dog-earred copy of The Great Gatsby
waits in the pocket of the seat in front of her.
any other day, that might be a metaphor,
but today it is just a lonely book
whose owner is even lonelier.
there is an angel in the plane seat next to me.
while i am closing my eyes to say goodbye to the ground,
she is opening hers wider to say hello to the sky.
her spine is bending against the metal side,
like maybe if she pushed enough she could be free.
as the plane starts moving faster and faster,
the ground tells me, “see you later.”
and as the wheels draw back into the plane’s belly,
the sky tells her, “welcome back old friend.”
there is an angel sitting next to me on a plane,
and it sounds like the start of a bad joke.
she is beautiful with spindly fingers, fly-away hair,
green eyes and a feather soft smi
to the girl i lose my words aroundi have been meaning to tell you for years:to the girl i lose my words around in Free Verse More Like This
i think you’re beautiful. i have
seen nothing on earth that holds a candle
to the ocean you carry inside your body.
it spills over your edges sometimes, like
a rain shower around you, blurring your penciled-in
lines until there is nothing left of you but your natural
cliffs, valleys, and deserts.
i like that.
i have never met someone who is, somehow,
a sea and a storm at the same time.
maybe i never will again.
maybe you are the only one
who gathers clouds on her forehead
like a promise, or feels the push and pull of the tide
with her every step.
you are beautiful, honestly.
you are honest, beautifully.
it is in the way you talk, the way you hold ice
on your tongue but forget to use it—
you always forget to use it, i don’t think
you know how.
to be truthful, i’m afraid of your smile
and how it breaks over me, how it pulls
me like a whirlpool down, how it pushes me
like a current back to the surface. i’m afraid of
getting too attachedto the one night stand, probably sittinggetting too attached in Free Verse More Like This
in a taxi on the way back to his overpriced apartment,
this is just to let you know
that i wish i could love like you do.
that is to say, in under thirty minutes and not at all.
this is just to say
congratulations on being my first
one night stand
and also, i just wanted to tell you
that i’m glad you never gave me your name
because if you had, i would have tracked
you down through the whole city,
holding my heart in my hands
until i found you so i could give you
the damn thing.
it’s going to be a long time before
i can get those eyes out of my head, boy.
i wish you had fallen in love with me,
like in those movies or in those books,
and then you would have stayed.
i wish i could have met you
at my workplace and you would
take me out to dinner or to an arcade
or to a midnight showing of a B rated horror film.
i wish you were nervous the first time you kissed me
and that you tasted like a breath mint
instead of cheap
the devil's in the detailsthere’s a beautiful boy sitting on the curbthe devil's in the details in Free Verse More Like This
of a street somewhere in that time right before
the sun sets and his head is in his hands
and he’s never looked more beautiful or more alone
and you want to tell him it’ll be fine,
that it’ll be okay, that soon he’ll outrun whatever’s
doggin’ his heels, that it may seem crowded now
but there’ll always be more earth
than people, or else we’d be driving
through ghosts and the whole
point of driving is to run away from them.
but he doesn’t have the right kind of eyes
to believe that. they’re red and bloodshot
like he’s been crying too long
to ever listen to you.
you don’t sit down next to him. he does
not expect you to. he may or may not
know you’re even there. if he did,
he’d make you leave because you don’t
belong with him, this angel of a boy,
you don’t want to put him together
you want to watch him finish falling apart
because broken things
weighted down1. I am sixteen, suddenly.weighted down in Free Verse More Like This
I have grown up without anyone
telling me. My car keys rest heavily in
my palm. Each new college I hear about
rests heavily on my shoulders. I am
not sure how much longer I can take this,
all this extra weight of responsibilities, of choices,
of the future I’m not sure I want to have.
My skin feels stretched across my body
in places that don’t really make sense.
I still feel too big in every bad way—I’m
afraid I always will.
2. My first boyfriend tells me he
thinks I must have bits of the
universe inside of me. I try not
to get offended: I know he means to say
that kissing me is like kissing stars,
and that I hold the secrets of creation
inside my soul, but all I can think about
is how huge the universe is.
3. He breaks up with me at night.
For hours, I lean against my truck in
the driveway and look at the sky.
Stars are cold and distant,
I realize. The universe is big
4. Someone in my philosophy class tries to tell me
she can't keep secrets, i can't keep friendsthe first time I see her in months,she can't keep secrets, i can't keep friends in Free Verse More Like This
she still hugs me like i’m the only thing
keeping her world up.
i remember a time when this was true.
we do not talk about anything we used to—
those things have become taboo,
almost while our heads were turned away.
subjects are now landmines, with us tiptoeing around them,
me in my beat up converse and her in her sky-high stilettos.
we do not talk about how she did not say goodbye.
we do not talk about her old-new-old-old-gone boyfriend.
we don’t mention any new holes in my heart
or any new episodes of a now cancelled television show.
we do not talk about the new kid who looks like her
and we don’t talk about the school of new kids she looks at every morning.
i do not tell her that i have written seventeen poems about her
because she does not understand my way of letting go.
i do not tell her that it is close to October
and i have stopped marking off days on my calendar
and today i haven’t eaten any food
but i doubt sh
just another adolescent love poemlet’s get this straight right now:just another adolescent love poem in Free Verse More Like This
there are people i can only talk to
at four o’clock in the morning, when
the line between decency and secrecy
becomes just as blurred as the one between
night and day.
you’re not one of them.
i’m not ashamed of you.
or scared. and don’t try to tell me that’s not
a miracle because i still check under the bed
for monsters and behind the shower curtain
for serial killers. i know it’s all in my head
but things like that make me terrified;
i mean, i still hold my breath crossing by a cemetery
and someone else is always going to have to kill the spiders.
i’m hoping that someone will be you.
which i’m also hoping i’ll never accidentally tell you
because it’s like i lose all cognitive reasoning
around you, even when we’re fighting.
you split me down the middle, half of me wanting
to tear out your femur and beat some sense into you
and the other half wanting to give anything,
even the foun
Stop Romanticizing Poets 2K14This is how I write my poems:Stop Romanticizing Poets 2K14 in Free Verse More Like This
You’re blonde and you have blue eyes.
You’re the perfect subject for my next great hit,
a long rambling epic or a two page sonnet
which would start by comparing your hair
to rays of the sun and your eyes to the ocean
at daybreak. Even if you’re more of a dishwater blonde
than sun-colored, and your eyes are less ocean and
more sky, I swear I write this poem and think
vaguely of you.
But here is a secret: I’m not writing a poem about you.
I’m writing a poem about the idea of you.
And I don’t know if it will be a love poem or
a break-up poem or a “please don’t go home and
commit suicide” poem or one of those
heartbreakingly honest poems that feels like
you put your pencil on paper and bled.
I don’t write poems like that often.
No poet does, not really,
we write poems about you and your blue eyes
because we don’t like how bleeding feels,
and it is much safer for us to pretend to fall in l
suicidal.it’s like she’s toeing the edge of a cliff andsuicidal. in Free Verse More Like This
she’s smiling and she’s deadly
and you’re standing too far back to save her
and it’s just too late because she’s about
if you want a list of reasons not to commit suicide,
here it is.
1. you have two dogs that will miss you.
they were wagging their tails and smiling
last night when they took you to the hospital
and i couldn’t find the words to tell them
that they should be quiet.
2. you have a car that you cried when you got
and you roll the windows down and blast music
whenever you pick me up from school
and i’m sorry i never sang along, but this is just to say
that you have things that still make you feel alive.
3. you have a sister that is nice about fifteen percent of the time
and loves you the rest of it. trust me, she does.
she does not remember the last time she hugged you
but she wrote about you when her teacher asked her
who her hero was.
4. mom should
six feet under and over your headwhen the leftovers finally run out,six feet under and over your head in Free Verse More Like This
your thirteen year old sister comes to you
and says that she misses mom and dad.
you assure her that one will be coming back soon.
neither of you mentions the other.
you think that this is a perfect time for a drink,
before you remember you’re not even twenty-one.
from bagging groceries to the middle school
to waiting tables to making dinner
then to night classes to home by eleven
then to leaving angry voicemails at
three a.m. when you wake up
and realize that you are not old enough for this
and no one seems to care.
then then then—
then you’re standing too tall holding flowers in a cemetery,
promising to do better because
today your thirteen year old sister
came to you and said that she has never felt more alone
and you are not prepared for any of this:
you are trying your best.
no one can see that you’re trying your best.
but you are.
this is not a fairytale.
there is no bad king or mad witch
or love to conquer all.
CanvasLet her paint a masterpiece,Canvas in Free Verse More Like This
Let her paint a lie
Let her paint a word inside the shining silver skies.
Let her paint a mystery,
Let her paint a sin
Let her paint the things that lie in darkness deep within.
Let her paint a masterpiece
(but this time there's a twist)
Make the brush a blade and let the canvas be her wrist...
No Longer a Little GirlDear imagination, can't you be the thing you wereNo Longer a Little Girl in Free Verse More Like This
Butterflies and daffodils and happiness so pure
Sunny skies and lullabies and dreams of what could be
Hidden worlds and wonderlands of things they couldn't see
Shining gowns and silver crowns for dancing with the prince
Twirling with excitement, though the others weren't convinced
Dear intimidation, did you find it to be true
All I ever needed was an overdose of you
Silly stares and laughter slowly flood a child's mind
Making me abandon every daydream I could find
Lost beneath the shadows of the sky so dark and dead
Far too weak to turn around, yet scared of things ahead
Dear destructive tendencies, I feel it's time to hear
You were all I had when nothing else seemed to be near
Everything so out of reach, too far for me to see
I decided I would choose the needle next to me
Slicing through my very skin to feel something once more
Weeping through the satisfaction I could not ignore
Dear imagination, can't you be the thing you were?
To some people.To some people, it’s called breathing.To some people. in Free Verse More Like This
To me, it’s called inhaling poison,
Which drenches my lungs and sinks into my bones
And melts into my mind.
To some people, it’s called anxiety.
To me, it’s called an unbearable shakiness in my soul
The nervousness preventing my from ever escaping
This disease in my heart.
To some people, it’s called living.
To me, it’s called never being able to run away.
Never being able to truly go, truly leave.
To me, it’s called being caught in a nightmare,
While struggling to dream.
Chasing a mystery with no solution.
Escaping your own sanity to reach more sanity,
Freeing yourself from your happiness to find more happiness.
To some people, it’s called life.
There’s no such thing.
I Am SchizophreniaShh.I Am Schizophrenia in Free Verse More Like This
"Are you okay?"
Turn off the light.
"What are you doing?"
You can't fight the shadows.
They'll kill you if you tell.
Rip your hair out.
Cover your eyes.
Cover them again.
Lock the door.
Now you're trapped.
Lock it again.
Don't take the medication.
Don't drink the water.
Don't eat your dinner.
"I don't know you anymore. Who have you become?"
I am a nobody.
I am Schizophrenia.
I am death
"... I don't know."
Dear Daddy, I hate you.Dad,Dear Daddy, I hate you. in Free Verse More Like This
There's something I want you to know,
Because, hey dad..
I'm not stupid.
I know you're not going to be here
Something I wanted to say..
I hate you.
I hate how you've been there for me.
I hate how you made me who I am today.
I hate how you've always inspired me,
And I hate how you've been the best father anyone could ask for.
I hate how I know you enough to know exactly what you're going to say.
I hate how you know me the same way.
I hate how you love your family more than anything.
I hate how you've been strong just so we don't feel weak,
And I hate how you never gave up on us.
On your family.
On your daughters.
I hate knowing that it's going to be
I'm going to miss you, Dad.
... Daddy, I'm going to miss you.
And I hate you for that.
SchizophreniaSmile.Schizophrenia in Free Verse More Like This
"What are you doing?"
Trying to escape.
Look behind you.
Are they there?
You'll never understand it.
Rip your hair out.
Cover your ears.
They want you to die.
They're out for you.
Shut the door.
Lock it again.
"Are you okay?"
You'll never make it.
Fall to the ground.
"What are you doing?"
"What are you going through?"
"What's wrong with you?"
... "I don't know."
Sunburn: Part 5 (THE END) Still yelling, both Stan and Annie were swallowed by the water. Upon submergence, Stan noticed three very important things about the room they were now in, 1: spikes now lined the wall, ceiling, and floor, 2: The current(s) was VERY strong, and 3: The door was now closed. Still, he only had about one second to notice all of this before the various currents started fighting each other over where their helpless bodies would be tossed. Pulling the painting close to his chest and tightening his grip on Annie’s leg, Stan braced for impact on the spike covered wall that he was hurtling towards. There was a thud, both Stan and Annie screamed, and the two were once again thrown off in a different direction. The shields had held true!Sunburn: Part 5 (THE END) in Short Stories More Like This
Back and forth, forth and back, back and forth once more, the pair was flung around the room screaming in terror. The shields were holding out well against the spikes, excluding the fact that water damage and, well, the fact that they had been
Sunburn: Part 4 After greeting the carpet with his face, Stan got to his feet just in time to see the Annie shut him in the room. This time, however, the room did not become shrouded in darkness, but rather remained fairly well lit. In fact, it looked how a mostly empty room should, with bare walls, a simple carpet, and another doll. This doll, however, was made to look exactly like Annie, it even had black felt sewn onto her back, presumably to represent Shade.Sunburn: Part 4 in Short Stories More Like This
Stan reached down and picked up the doll. To his surprise, nothing bad happened when he did so, much the opposite in fact. There was a click and the door behind him opened. Standing in the doorway (On top of one the pieces from the still-smoldering doors) was Annie, gun raised.
“G-give me the doll!” Annie demanded.
“What? This old thing?” Stan mocked, tossing the doll from one hand to the other, “Well, I found it, and the rule is: Finders keepers. Oh, and tak
Sunburn: Part 2 …IN FACT, IT IS GOING TO BE A BIT COMPLEX. THE RULES, HOWEVER, ARE SIMPLE. FIRST TO GET ANNIE OR STANFORD TO THE BED WINS; BUT MAKE SURE YOU DO NOT TOUCH ME DURING THE GAME. THE COMPLEXITY IS THAT EACH ROOM WILL HAVE A CERTAIN CHALLENGE IN IT FOR YOU TO OVERCOME, EXCLUDING THE LOBBY. THE CHALLENGE WILL BECOME MORE DIFFICULT IF YOU GO THROUGH THE ROOM A SECOND TIME. YOUR CLAY SOLDIERS WILL NOT ACCOMPANY YOU, BUT WILL RATHER STAY IN THE LOBBY. THE GAME WILL BEGIN IN 5 MINUTES; YOU ARE FREE TO EXPLORE THE ROOM TO YOUR LEFT. THE ROOM IN FRONT OF YOU WILL REMAIN LOCKED UNTIL THE GAME BEGINS. GOOD LUCK.Sunburn: Part 2 in Short Stories More Like This
“So…what do you suppose it meant by ‘the first to get Annie or Stanford to the bed’?” Stan asked softly, attempting to fill the void left by Lava’s powerful voice.
“I am not sure …” replied Annie as she holstered her gun and walked over to th
Sunburn: Part 3 Once they had made it to the door, Stan opened it, revealing a room filled with candles. Now, when a room filled with candles is imagined, the imaginer tends to place these waxy-light givers around the sides of the room or in some ritualistic shape on the floor. This was not the case. Candles burned everywhere, on every exposed surface, dripping their wax as they shone. The room was totally filled with lit candles, excluding, for some strange reason, the fireplace. The furniture was coated with such a thick layer of wax that it was not recognizable, and the wallpaper was stained black with soot. The stairs were directly across the room, leading to the second floor.Sunburn: Part 3 in Short Stories More Like This
“I have heard of romantic candle-light, but this is RED-iculous, ammirite, Tex?” Stan grinned. Annie said nothing. Stan hovered the platforms over what could have been a table, kicking over some of the candles with his boots to clear a spot for the two of them. With another flick of hi
The Burlesque GirlA girl with stilettos, red lipstick, and curled hair was ready to please since birthThe Burlesque Girl in Free Verse More Like This
Born to prove to us what she's worth
"Hit the lights," she whispers, and struts onto the stage
The crowd cheers and gasps, everyone's amazed
The young boys heart's skip many beats
They came here looking for a treat
She blows each one of them a kiss
Blink for a second and you will surely miss
The heels come off, and down comes the hair
Haunting the audience with her stare
She amazes all who see
Each perfectly sculpted hip, thigh and knee
The boys all whistle, shout and cheer
But the finale is no where near
Her smile seduces all who should glare
She starts to pull up her dress, almost there
The lads all scream because they're delighted
She licks her lips, and they all get excited
The dress comes off and that's the end of the act
Barely has her dignity still intact
A girl who's brought more than just fantasies
A goddess who leave's more than wet dreams
Her body's a voice which she expresses
And this is wh
Bruised BlueBlood red rosesBruised Blue in Free Verse More Like This
Bruised blue violets
Tears falling to the floor
Ripped up valentine's
A necklace hanging on a broken chain
You stormed out into the pouring rain
I sat and watched you from my window
But I was silently crying 'Don't go'
I stared at the mess
The one I had started
If only I hadn't lied
And hadn't tried to hide it
ZombiesThe dead stumble into the nightZombies in Free Verse More Like This
Empty graves left open
Under the moons eerie light
The smell of brains is potent
Horrified Screams pierce through the air
Ghastly figures roar through the town
On destructive paths, no one knows where
Terrified beings dragged to the ground
With blood, they'll paint the morning skies
Killing everything in sight
Under the silver-lit moon, it's no surprise
The undead will win the fight
Everyone becomes a mortal foe
Civil war in the streets
If you have fear, don't let it show
The zombies plot is almost complete
Pain and agony in every shout
They ignore their merciful cries
The human race they will wipe out
An promise you can't deny
Crimson eyes wathing the wicked
The chaos is quickly spread
Murder is a plague being transmitted
As if the streets were paved in red
The population has decreased
The battle was won
Now they will return to peace
For the bloody war was done
Sheets“I adore you,”Sheets in Free Verse More Like This
she said, whimsically twisted in the rippled gossamer sheets of their bed.
And in these words were memories of weather-worn love letters,
long kisses with smeared roseate lipstick,
and layered mascara outlining her chatoyant eyes,
for he loved the way it looked.
she said months later, tightly grasping the rippled gossamer sheets of her bed.
And in these words were soiled and crumpled goodbye notes,
untarnished roseate lipstick on her opulent lips,
and smeared mascara, creating an ashy mess on her pillowcase,
for who cares if he used to love the way it looked.
She whispered to empty sheets,
“I meant abhor you.”
Pretty metaphors are for pretty girlsI told you to stopPretty metaphors are for pretty girls in Free Verse More Like This
spewing pretty metaphors at me,
for with each elaborate comparison,
I feel a bit more
detached from this world
And maybe I don’t feel so strong at the moment,
but would you be
if you felt like the entire universe
was resting upon your shoulders,
and someone was just there saying:
But you’re stronger than the powerful beats
of a butterfly’s wings
And maybe I do need more confidence,
but would you exuberate it
when the part you hated most about yourself
were the freckles that have speckled your face for years,
and someone was just there muttering:
They’re not flaws,
but rather stars that form constellations
Yes, I can’t help but hate
all those unrealistic metaphors
you choose to pelt at me when I’m low,
yet the irony is,
I know that those beautiful words
are realistic in your eyes,
So I can’t hate you.
Clumsy: Italy X ReaderClumsy: Italy X Reader in Romance More Like This
'First time when I saw your eyes
Boy you looked right through me, hm hm
Play it cool, but I knew you knew
That cupid hit me, hm hm'
It was your first day of high school at Hetalia high. Just moved into town, in a new house, with new friends, and pretty much, new everything. Your dad dropped you off in front of the huge building, and you jumped out, slipping your headphones on and listening to some loud music as you walked up the stairs. People stared, how could they not? You were a new face, a pretty one at that, but you weren’t one to be shy about stuff like that. You let the pairs of eyes burn through you as you strode up the steps to the front entrance.
“______! Hey!" Someone called from behind you. It was your next door neighbor, Eliza. You turned around and gave her a warm smile. You talked for a while as you walked past the soccer field to get to the the science building. Just for a second your attention turned to the group of boys on the field and to your unfort
Smile, Damn it! Romano X ReaderSmile, Damn it! Romano X Reader in Romance More Like This
WARNING: I do curse in this story, like a lot. And my apologies for people who don’t approve of stuff like that, I’m trying to stop, but it’s like a drug and it’s addicting. That probably makes no sense, but again: Sorry for people who don’t like cursing.
You followed Romano out of the conference room after the pointless World Meeting crap was over. All those countries just fought over land and other countries, causing more tension and useless arguments. Today was especially painful, because they were fighting over you. It was quite awkward.
“Damn potato loving bastardo. Why can’t-a he just leave-a mio fratello alone, eh? And that son of a bitch-a Spain! What the hell is wrong with him?! He keeps pinching my-a damn cheek, telling me I look-a like a tomato!” Romano muttered as he walked fast out the door, with you at his tail. When he was mad, he was also a bit clumsy and dimwitted.
SinkingRecently I've been sinkingSinking in Free Verse More Like This
Like a stone into a pond
Having skimmed across the surface
Of life for far too long
Please may I have a new heart
Along with a new mind
I cannot reverse this feeling
No, I'm sorry, not this time
Recently I've been sinking
Into myself like quicksand
No one sees as it swallows me
Each grain a mislaid plan
Please may I crawl inside your love
Mingle hearts until the end
I cannot reverse this feeling
No, I'm sorry, not again
Recently I've been sinking
Such an overused metaphor
But one which is cathartic
When choosing to explore
That I could save you my love
And in time you could save me
As fear and loneliness will dissolve
Doused in our empathy
Bi-PolaroidWill you take a Polaroid pictureBi-Polaroid in Free Verse More Like This
And shake it in your hand
As you wait for it to develop
Please try to understand
That my smile might as well be painted
My tears photoshopped out
I'll add a caption on the reverse
So there will be no doubt
That I swing low like a pendulum
In a grandfather clock
That I fly high as a soaring kite
With each tick and each tock
Will you take a Polaroid picture
And hold me in your hands
As you wait for me to develop
Please try to understand
There'll be days when I'm as cold as ice
I'll thaw myself for you
And those things I said with aggression
I will try to undo
You should take me in to a dark room
And shake me till its clear
The love I show you is very real
The hate just comes from fear