she knows her paper cuts by name.Rose blood
on her tongue
reminds her of yesterday's.
A heart's hoarded secrets,
love me pretties, &
scarlet letter dreams.
do these boys know
of the bitter winter
like a blizzard
in her veins?
The sharp edges
or the crisscross
of origami limbs?
as deep &
as the ocean;
A MomentA match strikes against the box, a tiny flame bringing light to the darkness around her. She watches it for a moment, not quite thinking about what she's about to do. Then she blows it out, quickly, before the smoldering ember has time to cool in the breeze from the open window, she presses the still hot match head against the pale skin at her wrist. The sensation is not one of pain, not at first. No, it begins as a searing of flesh, too hot to be painful. She pulls the match away and hides it in the bottom of her trash can. A tiny blister is forming, now comes the pain. A deep stinging, breaking through the feeling of numb that makes up her existence.More Like This
She lives for this. The little moments of pain that break her out of her empty shell and bring her back into the world of the living, if only for a little while. She hates feeling this way, like she's alive without living. It's as if she's a statue, trapped within herself, able to see and hear and touch and taste, yet she can't feel. Lif
PainThe crimson flow.More Like This
The uneaten meal.
The bile in your throat.
The scars covering your body.
To: A cutterTo: A CutterMore Like This
I wish you would stop cutting;
you think that's all that's there.
It makes me very sad to think
that you believe that I don't care.
Bloodshed and tears,
that is all I see.
But, if you told me more about it,
I could show you what you can be.
If you let me hold your hand,
we could see it through
And if you let me hug you once,
that would help too.
The world is so much more
then what you believe
We could walk a new path together.
And eventually the pain would leave.
Others would gladly take your place,
for your one chance at life.
Please see the bright side of things,
and let go of the fight
People have died for you;
soldiers, God, and men
So stop dreading on your sorrows,
and think about that then
I could tell you all this,
all this and more
If you'd just let me speak my words.
It is you that I adore.
I wish you would stop cutting;
you think that's all that's there.
It makes me very sad to think
that you believe that I don't care.
From: A Bleeder
.:Beautiful Blade:. POVits dark in here, where you keep me hidden.More Like This
i know all your secrets..
your bullied,suicidal, you cry over dumb things and many more.
seems like you had a bad day?
i hear your bed creek and you crying.
yes yes. about to be taken out of the dark!
i see a crack of light. i feel that glare come upon me.
your hands are so shakey.
whats wrong? here use me to let out your bloo- i mean feelings..
you whisper that no one is home. so why not??
while holding me you feel that powerful feeling you always get.
roll up your sleeve, take off the braclets that cover all the old times you used me.
i know the rout.
i also know you hesitate on cutting up and down.
you say out loud that you will only do 1.
me and you both know its wont just be 1...its never just 1.
1 leads to 2 you say just one more...
2- 3- 4- 5- 6..
soon your at 21.
your addiction usually stop about there.
you must have a horriable day....
your screaming starts now on which each cut it for..
"calling me FAT!!" slash
"hitting, punching, s
drawling sharpnessunleashedMore Like This
upon own flesh
drawling motion of sharpness
that you relish
fresh lily stems
city rooftop sunset
cold night bed warmth
long memory-lingering poem
when the supposed blue
follow drops and channels
patterns on chapel ceilings
ne'er there worship
17.BloodI bite,More Like This
At my lips
And my fingertips.
The blood pools,
But it cools
I hurt myself
In a way
I only pray
That it does not
Just as I wish
The blood I see
Doesn't bother me
As much as it used to.
It comforts me
Which scares me.
This isn't how
It's supposed to be.
The pain stays
Even as I sit here
And type this
They still sting,
The fresh ones.
Even without the scars,
I hurt myself
And what I feel then
9. CutPlease stop.More Like This
Those scars on your arms,
I hate them.
They reflect so much pain.
I love you.
You're not alone.
I want to do it
But I'm too scared,
Does that make me worse
Than just being able to do it?
Is my anxiety too much?
I can't feel much.
That's why my fingers and lips
But there's no scars.
Am I a fake?
So I can stop
So that I can stop
Wanting to do it myself.
Stop hurting yourself.
It reminds me of
It hurts me.
Sometimes everyday.I don't use a razor blade on my wristMore Like This
or my hips.
But sometimes I wish i did.
I don't use the lighter to burn my arms,
or my sides.
But sometimes I wish i did.
I don't use butterflies on my wrist,
or my arms.
But sometimes i wish i did.
I never used to wear a fake smile,
or a mask.
But now everyday I do.
I never used wonder about how terrible someone's is,
or about the suicide rate.
But now everyday I do.
I never used to care what they said about me,
or what names that shouted at me.
But now everyday I do.
Oh, how many thing wish could change.
i just want to be happy
They say beauty is only skin deep,so hand over that defected scalpel in your bloodless handsMore Like This
and watch carefully as I peel away this tainted skin
to make way for my blackened and corrupted
And everyone can finally see
the grotesque monster that lies deep within
this soiled excuse they seem to enjoy calling
If beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
then why is it that I can't stand
gazing upon my reflection
every time I pass by a mirror?
Ways to conquer heartbreakDance with fistfuls of roses, shred their petals one by one and wear their thorns like armor.More Like This
Write your secrets between the folds of paper cranes and tuck them safely between the empty spaces of your castle ribs.
Open your broken heart to hummingbirds, allow them the warmth and shelter of your arms.
Rebel. Tape poetry to your limbs, Cummings and Sandburg and Sexton.
Take a walk outside of your skin for a while, run with wolves.
Extinguish that forest fire that’s been curling too long in your lungs.
Be that lionhearted girl those snobby poets always write about.
Allow that cavern of stars in your throat to speak your truths in uppercase letters, in free verse yet to be proofread.
Write about wars and victory.
Be the hero.
The Poison That We DrinkLies(Deceit...!)More Like This
They are so tempting(And so sweet...!)
They seem so simple(But make us weak...!)
They are the poison that we drink
In the middle of the night,
You're telling me everything,
But not believing!
Over burdening your soul,
But I'm not retreating!
(I refuse to drink)
How! Could you do this to me...?!(Can't you see I'm bleeding?)
Now! I can't even breathe...!(Oh no, my heart's not beating)
The sky! Is painted with my grief...!(My patience is fleeing...)
So sad...so sad, so sad...so sad...
You've made me break myself, and I'm so fucking mad!
How! Could you do this to me...?!
Now! I can't even breathe...!
The sky! Is painted with my grief...!
Can't you see! How you make me bleed...?!
One more round tonight! But! My! Heart! Can't! Beat!
They are the poison(That we drink...!)
They are so tempting(And so sweet...!)
And when the sun is rising,
Still screaming, no surprising!
I'm trying to unify,
But you keep dividing!
I don't want to hear,
She stole my ice creamShe stole my ice cream, it was hotMore Like This
And she wanted it more than me.
I could have said no, but what uncle
Would do such a thing. Hers laid
On the pavement turning into a puddle
Of sluch. Her eyes showed the entrance
Of tears and what could I do? It was
Not a choice, there was no choice.
Her tiny hands reached up to mine and
The tears, forming in her eyes, ask
Me for my ice cream. There was no
Choice then. Only the hope that there
Would be no more sadness. I wanted
To see her smile more than any treat
I have ever wanted before. When she saw
I would not resist the tears began to dry,
And I, I was treated to her smile
Denied RegretMore Like This
I've been everywhere
I've seen everything
I don't want to see it again.
Bad things happened.
As they should,
but you see
these things didn't make me feel good.
They were like thousands of knives,
poking at my skin
Wanting desperately to break in.
I have taken him away,
His life and heavenly soul.
Would it matter
If I didn't regret a thing?
I'd be a murderer and a thief
Since the day I was born
Sprouting was the ground knotted and twisted
My limbs creak with pain
My heart beats with anger
Of these things I've done
Because darling, as you can see
I am not real
I never want to be
I'd regret the moments that I would see
You don't enjoy life so much
When you realize you're not loved.
GravityGravity,More Like This
Autumn wanted to learn
So, the galaxy of dead trees
coiling in your lungs
devoured her spine.
a lifeline wrapped around
her neck like a noose;
an orange and red
& you said "God bless your
heart." like some divine
higher power could forgive
her for loving you.
BloodI've got a filthy mouth,More Like This
& a house of stars
thriving in my throat.
& I still have yet to tame
this grounded constellation
I call my temple. -Slithering
tongue hissing too many
"fuck you's" against my teeth.
I fear I will write myself hollow-
or until my bones are corroded away
& I am nothing-
an insignificant nebula
orbiting the wrong atmosphere.
But, my veins bleed sweet ichor,
& words are only words, Mother.
my heroes are the dead menthe closest thing I had toMore Like This
died shortly after
I was born
and I like to imagine
that a piece of him
lives with me
the same way.
and I hope
whoever reads this
will give themselves
to me, or this
as I have given myself
to fumbled teenage sex
or homemade coffee.
are the dead men
who refused to believe
they had suffered
left pieces for us
who suffer through
as they relax
the scars on your shouldersthe scars on your shouldersMore Like This
are braille to me, so that i
can read your skin, so that i
can know you better.
i like to listen to your heartbeat
and how it resounds differently
from mine, just so beautifully
like two songs played in tandem
to harmonise in rounds;
i like to hold your hands
and rub your back
so that maybe my love
can find its way through your pores
and seep into your blood
(never can i find the right words
to tell you just the way you feel to me)
and to think that and how i nearly missed you
makes me miss you more
every minute and mile we spend
i can't sleep with another body
in my bed,
but sleeping without you
leaves the space next to me
much emptier than i'd like.
my only company is
the sadness that comes from
being alone, and having no strong arms
to reassure me that i am beautiful
and no dream can hurt me-
i can only hope that
you are not the exception.
this is the pen finally knowing
this is how we hold onto the bones
we support in our bodies.
Falling in LoveI fell into what can only be explainedMore Like This
as thin air.
Filling every inch of space
from me to you.
That attraction pulling me from afar,
over all rocky mountains and oceans.
What I feel is the thrill of free falling,
like butterflies are fluttering around in my belly,
gently caressing my soul.
If they ever left…
they would surely return,
with only a single glance of soft creases,
surrounding your shimmering eyes.
I'll hold you as if the sun thought,
"No, I'm not going to work today."
And the moon...
trudging forth around the Earth,
clung to blackness,
that could never be brightened.
I'll hold you as If today is the last day,
and there is no where else I'd wish to be.
are the reason roses bolt upright
from wilted states in dusky atmospheres.
are the antidote of seen-too-much-eyes.
have a smile that emanates all happiness.
have a voice made up of cozy hymns of melodies,
projected from your delicate and full lips.
Have a touch that is smooth a
the destruction of destructioni leaveMore Like This
&empty watter bottles
on your floor
in case you decide to forget me.
this is just our dynamic
this is just how our relationship works.
i read you chapters of the
strangest book i know
&you have me create
voices for each character.
i am most comfortable as the narrator,
but you like my crazier caricatures best.
it reminds me of how you like
the stranger ways my mind works,
&how you will pry sharp things
from my clawed fingers
&show up late for work
just to make sure i eat;
the hateful frustration i feel
when my body yearns for its
only to be thwarted by something
it can't control;
it reminds me of how you love
the parts of me i most hate,
&the way we can fight
as we go to bed
but before i fall asleep,
i nestle myself into
the curve of your back
&i am safe.
Dear Poetry,I might be dangerously on the verge of being poetic, but-More Like This
Sometimes I don't feel me in my own skin.
I am too many breaks between pulses,
& a heart still living in the autumn of 99.
I'm telling stories about a girl.
A soul made of ink & godly metaphors,
too much for a non-homeostatic body.
There were once fireflies in her smile,
alight between the gaps in her teeth.
love letters carved into wrists
she never sent.
She is Porphyria, & you are her lover.
Poets have the loneliest hearts.I drink morphineMore 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.
Dear WriterDear Writer,More Like This
I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. Unfortunately, I need you. I need you to tell my story. I need you to create my world. I need you to set me free.
I need your fingers typing on those keys, I need your mind riddling out the problems, and I need you to plough onward and upward no matter how hard it gets. Sweat, blood, and tears, I don’t care. You’ve got to fight this war, battle at a time, and win it. So I can be more.
It’s a slim hope, but it is the only one I have. In your head I am bound to mortality, frailty, and the limit of your meagre imagination. Out there – out there – I am subject to no one person. Out there I am bound to only black on white. Words on a page. Words that can lay seeds within a million minds. Out there I am a story capable of growing, moving, and stealing the dreams of anyone who learns of me…
I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. I hate your lack of dedication, your flashes of cru
The Petals OnlyAnother late nightMore Like This
sober, without conviction.
Not loveless, not
a cat in the road,
not even moss on the doorstep.
The heat shimmer is bawdy
and the kids go to sleep
early for a reason.
It's just like
when you find out
you weren't born special.
When you find out
the pretty ones do
have petals on their beds.
Stepping on the sheets.
It's the pin-prick stars
that are sick of waiting
It's telling the clouds
what they look like.
Grab a handful of a dirt
with your back to the grass,
and choose which finger
to point at the sky.
Blue Smocking in the True Essence of Time"You have no idea what time is going to do to you."More Like This
The girl was certainly no older than me, certainly. In fact, she looked at least ten years younger than me, and her dark blue, smock-like top the drugstore chain made her wear at the register made her look even younger and more childish.
If I allowed myself a moment of superficiality right then, I would have said there was nothing special about her: not her hair style, not her face, not her body, not her smile, not her eyes or even the tone of her voice. In fact, there was something slightly non-pleasing about all those elements of her, but I couldn't quite put my finger on exactly why. Maybe everything about her was just a little "off' by the world's standard of what was beautiful and what wasn't. Regardless of that, though, I realized that at 2:00am, when I was the only customer in the store full of everything a person could need at 2:00am, it was an odd thing for her to say to me as I walked in and passed the che
You're Not?You're anorexic if you're thinMore 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.
boys who love their grandmothersnever fall in love with a boy who loves his grandmother.More Like This
he will be too gentle with your lips,
too sincere when he whispers blessings into your ears
pleading that he doesn't deserve you.
his tongue will not slither between your teeth.
instead, the heat of his mouth will melt your scar tissue
until there is no trace of your travels.
never fall in love with a boy who loves his grandmother.
he knows patience.
you will try to convince him
that it is one of the many virtues
you don't yet possess,
but he will dig through the flesh in your ribcage
until he finds it lodged beneath everything
you're too scared to confess.
he will teach you forgiveness, remind you that you are not a mistake.
he will wipe the trails of tears that always seem to decorate your cheeks
and replace them with rose petals, saying that he chose the color red
to match the passion he knows flows through your veins.
never fall in love with a boy who loves his grandmother.
he will trace the freckles on your skin
That Girl In The MirrorHappiness will remain forever out of reachMore Like This
When love from your life you omit
To the girl in the mirror; you are beautiful
Yet somehow you never quite fit
Not the girl they thought you’d turn out to be
When you were a neonate child
Born with a raging heart and a raging mind
But with a manner ever so mild
Your scars aren’t always visible to them
And not only hidden under attire
Lacerations to the mind are just as abhorrent
When memories and dreams conspire
So girl break the mirror if you have to
And reflect on your life as a whole
Do you really want to spend the rest of your days
Behind a façade of self control?
Please be strong enough to go your own way
Indeed go against the grain
In your field of dreams stand up and be counted
And maybe others will do the same
You are unique and you are so beautiful
You’re everything someone else is not
The light of your reflection will shine on
Through the looking glass your childhood begot
Yes, I Have a PenisYes, I Have A PenisMore Like This
Do not assume (if I hold the door for you),
that I am making a statement
about your inabilities
to open the door for yourself.
If you hold it for me,
I'll say 'thankyou'.
Do not assume (if I pay for the meal),
that I am underestimating
your earning capacity
as a woman.
If you invite me out for a meal,
Do not assume (if I defend your rights),
that I am belittling
the attempts that you have made
to defend your rights yourself.
If you defend my rights,
I'll consider you human.
Sex is...Sex is sacred,More Like This
Sex is dirty.
Sex is bodies driving against each other for pleasure,
For reproduction, for love, for need.
For desire and lust, and want and passion.
Sex is something that every human wants to do,
Needs to do,
Sex is the driving force behind our minds,
Pushing us forward and preserving us in time.
Fucking and loving, caressing and holding.
Tongues moving together and folding
Bodies against bodies, and sex against sex.
Sex is the want, sex is the need.
To push together and forward, spilling the seed.
Sex is beautiful, sex is rough.
Sex is grinding and moaning
Sex is gentle and moving.
Sex makes us cry, sex makes us laugh.
Sex is a secret, hidden away,
Sex is a pleasure, brought out to play
For new life or for fun, sex will be had
And if you don't like it, well that's too bad.
Dear YouDear YouMore Like This
You are a hurricane.
You are a volcano.
You are a flurry of beautiful violence;
A plume of volcanic ash cast into the sky.
You are all the voices of the world;
A scream and a whisper and a sigh.
You are the beauty of the earth;
An exquisite wildfire, divine in its destruction.
And you are so strong.
You are stronger than this weight on your shoulders,
You are stronger than this emptiness in your chest,
You are stronger than all these things that dare get in your way.
You will charge past these things;
These regrets, these desires, these insecurities.
You will get through every pitfall and mistake and slipup,
And you’ll be made better for it.
You are unbeatable, unconquerable and unstoppable.
Every obstacle, an opportunity,
Every failure, a lesson.
You will beat this because you are better than this.
You will beat this because you are you.
And that is a powerful thing.
About sadness.I have always waitedMore Like This
waited for insanity to come.
Everything is rated
by others, but I am all alone.
Buying things to compensate
all the things I ever lost
All things to abbreviate
the urge of things I needed most.
The feeling of happiness
is now filled with loneliness;
sadness with expansion.
FineTrust me as you would trustMore Like This
all liars, When i say
Because come tomorrow
I may actually be
Though this moment
is just another
Fine fine lie
So believe it,
Soon i shall be just
Though i'm not fine,
but just this time.
RevengeI never laugh.More Like This
I never smile.
I never speak.
I am too 'shy'.
What they did to me,
It was too hard.
I wasn't strong enough,
In my heart, it is dark.
I want to see them bleed.
I want to see them cry.
I want to kill them .
Just let me try.
I'm not that weak,
I can do that.
I tell you what's wrong with me,
I am mad.
It makes me happy,
Happy, too see them cry.
I would just laugh at them,
And show them my insane smile.
Yes, maybe I am insane,
One day I'll kill them.
I show them how it is to suffer,
Who's that helpless child then?
They'll all be dead soon.
And they'll see,
see and regret,
everything that they did to me.
Bully"Stupid," "Ugly," "Useless," "Sad."More Like This
"Emo," "Silent," "Paranoid," "Mad."
"Ashamed," "Afraid," "Crazy," "Stuck."
"Disgusting," "Alone," "Pathetic," "Out of Luck."
The words never spoken,
Yet always heard.
Not from people around me,
No, that's absurd.
I've heard these words,
Time after time,
They always pierce my heart,
They continuously cross my mind.
But these words were never said.
Never once directed at me.
Maybe they never became reality,
But I saw them spoken in my mentality.
These are the words of a bully.
The words that can tear me apart.
The words that can no longer be erased,
Because they have entered my heart.
This person who speaks them,
I know them quite well.
They have countless words in their head,
They have many stories to tell.
I don't know why they want me
To take all of the blame.
It might be for vengeance,
It might be from their own shame.
But the owner of these words,
The words that repeat,
Have caused me great fear,
Have led to my defeat.
This person I know,
Whom I d
Monsters and DemonsI think I'm pretty,More Like This
Don’t even think that.
I think I'm thin,
But you’re actually fat.
I think my friends
No they don’t, they loathe you.
If fact, no one likes you!
Why are you so mean
I AM YOU!
I am the voice,
Inside your head,
That makes you scream.
I am the monster,
That crawls into your heart,
And gnaws on it,
Until you bleed.
Until you cut.
Until you swallow
The internals of your poisons,
Tiny pill by tiny pill.
Until you fall asleep,
But never wake up.
Then I am finally silent.
But yet you’ve ignore me.
Sometimes you have.
Some days you go on,
Like I am never the bit of fragment
Of the sick twisted imaginat
Stenciled Smiles on Paper HeartsI don't like to feel this wayMore Like This
There must be something I can say
Cause I hate just watching you
When I know the pain you're going through
You're not alone; I've been where you are
Contemplating where I'll place my next scar
Hiding razor kisses underneath long sleeves
It doesn't make it better; nothing is achieved
All you'll earn are the scars you've got and
The lesson learned is the lesson forgotten
You feel like no one's there, no one cares what you do
Let me put it to you straight: That is never true
I was shunned, pushed away many times before
Then I realized it was I who had closed the door
I took a chance and opened up to the people around me
Told them of my secrets, now their love surrounds me
You're not alone; I've been where you are
And I know that life sometimes seems so hard…
But believe me, from one person to another
To make a book better, you never destroy the cover…
You are worth it...
12-21-12The Mayans said it first, butMore Like This
tea leaves said it second, her palm
said it third, and the boy
down the road, the one with the blue,
blue eyes, said it fourth.
The world was going to end and she
could not be happier.
Her affairs were easy to arrange:
money sealed into envelopes,
the microwave unplugged, and one
last kiss for the blue-eyed boy.
She called her mother,
and her mother did not answer.
(But she did not expect her to.)
That evening she hid beneath
a blanket with her dog and told stories
about the good times and the bad times
(but mostly the bad times, and how
now there would never have to be
bad times ever again).
Then she went to bed, heart lighter
than light, winged with hope,
and woke up crying.
Rainbow DustMore Like This
Stars made of nightmares and skies made of fears
Hearts made of glass and a home built of tears
Cries made of silence and words made of knives
Dreams of the struggle to simply survive
Souls made of paper and minds made of flames
She is a piece of their loveliest game
No longer can she feel more than disgust
Even a rainbow does turn into dust…
Trains.More Like This
In the soft patch of velcro
on the blue curtain--
a lightning bolt of thread,
one thousand spindles
of what were words once
but no longer.
The newspaper folded neatly on an empty seat reads
PABLO NERUDA TO BE EXHUMED.
The poet comes out of the earth.
In the train toilet, someone has left
a crumpled rose of notepaper behind the tap.
Unfolding it reveals pencil markings.
Someone began a letter:
"Forgive me. I don't know your weaknesses,
and don't know what to avoid when writing to you."
They had then given up.
It's raining against my window.
I take a couple pills meant for pain.
I chew them right before I swallow
so the dry bitterness shoots over my tongue.
Sometimes relief doesn't come fast enough.
Sometimes you don't want it to.
"i wish i were an empty page
in a soft, yellow book.
it would be easy to mistake myself
for a few clouds implying mountains,
or the sound of an animal cooing at the edge
of a city.
i would pass for an absent object
that could only hav
Paper Hearts and Tattoo Love StoriesShe tattooed love in a foreign tongueMore Like This
On her left wrist
Just so others would ask what it meant.
She sank her teeth into its meaning,
hoping one day the brand would bleed
Its definition upon her skin.
Lingering there, a forgotten kiss.
Lip-stick stained collars,
Little bones wired are ready,
Folded like patterned paper.
Sprinkled every which way.
Sharing herself fully with no one,
She made sure to leave her mark,
On every heart that beat her way.
Like A VirusMy veins dMore Like This
My is with
brain racked havoc-
from all the words I have yet to say.
Like scrap paper in an o v e r f l o w i n g waist basket,
on the verses
in the back
of my throat.
The throat my ink stained fingers beg to purge.
She never wanted children.She was cold.More Like This
With frostbitten fingers
numb to the touch,
She set herself on fire
just to w a t c h her skin burn.
Pretty as a picture on your myspace page.Lift up your shirt, baby.More Like This
Raise your temperature
and trail those pretty
fingers down contours
at their finest, between
the stalls of that dirty
gas station bathroom.
He's the kind of boyWith calloused fingersMore Like This
this boy trails poetry
down the length of spines.
smell like lemon drops,
and taste of sweet poison.]
He carries a tattered
notebook in one hand,
and an ink pen
in the pocket
closest to his heart.
[The paper romantic
who warms lonely
His dreams are bigger
Too much for just one.
These Tangled Webstiny spidersMore Like This
hang from my hair,
And you say,
what's been going on?
you don't smile
like you use to.
I miss that
sparkle in your eyes
that made my heart
thump thump thump.
I miss that well,
the one we use to
kiss behind before you
tossing in flowers
instead of coins
because you never
your every wish
was always granted.
I've picked your favorite
flowers every day
since you forgot m
Lucid LoverHer eyes are made of roses,More Like This
and sharp as thorns.
Her kisses leave scars
that burn way past dreams
as the feeling of tiny,
That...trickI felt my skin itchMore Like This
and tear under the pressure
of your slurred tongue,
the curves of my
[You left me b r e a t h l e s s. ]
CarboniseI carbonise.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
NaPoWriMo: Day 9More respectMore 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?
breathing never felt so wrong.''I'm sorry for this,More Like This
I love you.''
And then it all came to me-
I failed you,
and you failed me.
We failed each other.
Even love wasn't enough to save us anymore.
We were two broken people who were dead before we even got a chance to live.
Just because we were breathing doesn't mean that we were alive.
We made the perfect story
of two broken teenagers
who had broken souls
that never healed.
I failed you,
and you failed me.
Even love can't save us anymore.
We failed each other
before we even got a chance to live.
Cinnamon Souls"You're mixing water in your coke again."More Like This
"You do that when you worry."
"I'm always worried."
"No, you're usually cinnamon-in-your-tea worried. This is water-in-coke worried and that is seriously beginning to freak me out."
"What are you worried about?"
"You're going to think it's stupid."
"Well...do you ever wonder about the kind of guy you're waiting for?"
"I think we all wonder about that guy, love."
"I've been thinking about him more often than not lately. What he would be like, I mean."
"Oh. Well...if it helps any, I know what mine would be like."
"Sure. He will be tall, so I have to stand on my toes to kiss him. He will be kind so I can tell him anything without fearing him judging me. He will be strong so he can carry me when I fall."
"Wow. Sounds like you have this figured out. I guess we all have some idea about what our soulmate should be like."
"You know what yours will be like then?"
"No, I'm talking to the li
Down the rabbit hole I go, AliceTMore Like This
Down, into the dark
With no one there to catch me
It doesn't matter to me, where I land
The hole seems to be grabbing ahold of me more often
Because I can't cope
There are too many little doors
And depression follows me around
Just like the Cheshire cat
e, for e
Colours I Never TastedIt is not worth escaping over.More Like This
No, sometimes the sun rises lopsided in the horizon and the
clink of glasses against teeth sets irate neurones off in your mind cavity
and fireflies extinguish on car windscreens in rain storms. Sometimes
August drops down into lake reflections and sometimes October never
sends a breeze to whisper into your ears. But they teach you that all of
that is okay, even when you're watching sunflowers writhe towards the
sun with grey blankets over humid-day hair.
There will always be a dawn. Stay awake for it.
You are not truly living until you have breathed.
And by that, I mean, take two feet and place them on the path
or the grass and inhale April. it doesn't matter if it is not April,
imagine the dandelions and the daffodils and the soft bleat of lambs
and that fresh scent rushing past your nose in long car journeys,
the one that tugs your legs onto the map and tells you 'this is home,
all forty thousand kilometres of it'.
The world is your oyster. Be the pear
She Talks With MonstersThis girl never had a fear of monsters.More Like This
She allowed them to rest on the insides of her eyelids,
the crook of her neck, the empty spaces of her chest cavity.
She had no fear, there were much scarier things in this world
than darkness, clawing at her back. Living for the night
she etched her dreams upon the bars of her cage
whispering of centuries past because she truly missed the sun,
grass on her back. Frosty Decembers have her forgetting
what it feels like to love, but she knows who she is
she doesn't need the taste of cigarette ash
suffocating her inside her own flesh.
November skies tore open this night,
ripping a hole in her bedsheets.
It is in those dark spaces between
bone marrow and heartbeats that she finds herself-
tattered and breathless, whispering dark secrets
into a strangers ears. Her origami limbs folding
like patterned paper only to reach desperately
for the sun kissed frills of Apollo's robes.
The martyr of loveI am still a stranger in your battlefieldMore Like This
My rifle on my shoulder, I do not mean to fight
My tears cutting the ground under your feet
You stand over my bleeding body
Your cold blade dripping your way out
You stab me, once and twice, you grin at my wounds
My blood meets the thirsty salty soil
They greet, they hug, they mate under your feet
They give birth to the wild bloody roses
Where every wound blooms once more
I hear your walk away, leaving my barren land
I pray for death to push the arrow deeper in my back
To take the last hopeless breath, the last breeze of love
Bury me where the old moon was born
Let my head rest in a land of cinnamon and honey
When the white hands arrive with their remedy
Tell them all my birds left me and flew north
I do not wish to heal, I do not pray for cure
Battered and broken, my heart left the shore
Sailing To the Realm Of The PastYour death isMore Like This
riding my membranes
until the insanity
seeps from my
in love with a p h a n t o m,
where only your body of winds can embrace me.
But tonight, my tears will
be the millions of dreams
of our reunion in the
Death Note poetry: 'New World'More Like This
You wished for a new world
But only ruled by fear; your
Dream is doomed to shatter
In the twilight to then disappear
Nevertheless I warned you
Didn't I dear Raito-kun?
That Kira's deeds were evil
That Justice would have won
Yet back then only the rain
Was listening to my prayer
While you were playing God
With Misa as your Archangel
I really hate to admit it
But I lost to you at that time
Yet I'm still here watching
You running from your life
My murder, my enemy
My first and only friend
Your turns come to pay
Justice will prevail again
But dont be afraid
Even the void will end someday
Scorpion"Show me your bones."More Like This
the atlas of her thighs quaked
as she misplaced her skin
in the backseat of his car.
"I'm a scorpion, you know-"
a messy promise
& she smirked,
sure of her limbs,
her scars, & her teeth.
"I dare you to stake claim to this clavicle."
Love has killed poetryIt makes no senseMore Like This
that something so poetic
could render a person without a word left
and without a rhyme to hold depth
But let it be said that this is the truth
a rose is not an image enough
and pales in comparison to true beauty
silk is not an example of true softness and comfort
after having been in your arms
such a daft fabric knows no such warmth
Love in its true and deep entirety
has made poetry obsolete
and destroyed each and every metaphor
made every simile fail and fall
over a cliff of inefficiency and foolishness
Desire and passion are no "fire"
and "raging" is not what they do inside a person
this can not possible describe a feeling that goes so deep
and eats away at every ounce of one's being
when a passionately moaned "I want you" can not express
There is a level that words can not reach
and a state of mind where each one falls aside
and you dare not utilize such useless tools such as words
lest you belittle this feeling inside
Love has strangeled the muse with
Poetry of DeathAges past now and time without meaningMore Like This
Eternity and two thousand years have not mellowed the feeling
Life's greatest mystery carved in stone as strong
Blessing bestowed upon the world before so long
In all this earthly and celestial meld
Cult of one thing from the beginning still held
Hate's as proud, this foul creature
Plagued this Saint, the mainest feature
Great as such still has come to reap
Meant for peace our days to keep
Forever the sight of doom, the dream of breath
Truth now is – our love is Death
Sleeping ground, graves' reigning beauty
Worlds extinguished – life's ending duty
Dread it was and love's as hate
Upon these days of crying fate
Killer vicious, missing just
Yearning though to return to the dust
Jury decided guilty – comes the most cruel
None as horridly evil as this last rule
Quite the good received an Earth
Only evolution lacked a mirth
Screaming loud with all our wrath
Most precious gift though is the Poetry of Death
Battle CryI write poetry to ghosts in my dreamsMore Like This
awakening with ink stained sheets
from nights I can't remember,
meaningless phantom words upon my flesh.
And this cigarette between my fingertips
taunts me,"Hey baby, heycatch me on fire
and I'll burn you away." I laugh, hollow
unafraid of flames & smoke & shadows.
I've felt it all before.
I'm washing away the ink with homemade
remedies. Like it never was;
Like I never was.
But there is love on my arms now
smirking and itching away at me.
I'll claw it out a hundred times over
because remembering you
that is worse than self-inflicted injury.
With Poetry....More Like This
Back is front
Down is up
Here is there
And "I dunno"
Are remarks uttered by a genius
Sense does not need to be made
But dollars can…
CAPATALIZE, Go ahead
And speaking of head…
Know no limits
E ---------------> A
I miss you, and i can't say i'm sorryMore Like This
because these slender, spider fingers
ache to trace the curved letters of your name tag,
emily. i notice you write everything in caps.
( have i ever told you
how much i enjoy saying your name, -EMILY. )
you are screaming to the world, quietly.
but we, we are mid-morning whispers
over stale, back room coffee,
silent eyes, and window pane love.
these hearts were runaways once;
hitchhikers on a trail to nowhere.
you shared pieces of yourself with me then,
emily, between beats and bathroom stalls.
you were a gargoyle under the heat
of july summer. evenings were our playground;
rose garden beasts lingering in feverish night.
BestowedBestowedMore Like This
Should I find myself alone
Find myself without
Clearly I’ll see
All that is meant to be
Alone I will traverse
Alone I will embrace
The sudden shyness I find myself
With all but cold warmth
Delve into the mysteries
That await deep within
Delve into the peace
That lies across razored peaks
And scry into a pool
A pool of crimson blood
As it drips from forked tongue
and hastily sharpened teeth
Alone in the dark
Alone with my thoughts
I hear the chimes of angels
and the hymns of demons
of my own making and choosing
Left with sin
Left to rot
Alone in the dark
I’ll find a gem
A gem only solitude can polish
and gleams in deep moonlight
I call her inspiration
And she shines best
when held aloft a bloodstained crowned
She shines best
in a palm of freedom
wrapped in thought
and free of burden
She shines best
when she’s complete-ly
Not only YouI can feel your aura... Silence lays my thoughts into nothing.More Like This
Eternity flows within our minds.
It's not as simple as you think.
Polluted with dreams, our minds synchronize.
Opening our eyes, we shatter the darkness;
with eyes open, a nightmare.
Reality holds no salvation.
Only humans... what choice do we have (?)
Only humans... when one lives, when one dies...
despondenti.More Like This
"are you sleepy today?"
"but you were sleepy yesterday."
she stirs her pomegranate green-tea until it turns from clear to purple
setting it on her bedside table and climbing back into bed again.
her fingers follow the bluer-than-usual constellation veins on her wrists and down
to the freckle on her forearm and then the scar on the inside of her elbow
crossing the tendon as if it were crux.
and then she remembered that God hasn't been with her lately.
today is long and sunny but when she steps outside the humidity creaks her bones
and her skin starts to inflame.
she assumes that if getting the mail is a struggle, having a child would be too.
often times when she sets her tea down she remembers that her Bible is in the drawer beneath
along with the crucifix necklace that her mother made her.
her husband comes home late nowadays and she never questions why that may be
because she knows.
she would do the same too if she had a wife who took four different
Those Summer NightsSlowly driftingMore Like This
wishing, we were hoping.
But the seasons changed
and the month got cold
December hearts weakened
we were left alone.
Our frost-bitten hearts
shriveled up and gone
love; nothing but a thought
a dream that once was.
Does it even exist?
I shudder at the thought
that what we had was real
and what I have just lost.
Summer turns to fall
and things just start to die
the leaves falling off the trees
and broken hearts just asking why.
The love that once was blooming
like a spring flower in a field
now withers away to nothing
not sure of what was real.
The last leaf falls off the tree
there's nothing left to hold on to
and everything that once was
is falling apart around you.
Winter hearts growing colder
and colder as it goes
will love ever happen again?
oh, nobody knows.
Frozen in this state
for what seems like an eternity
knowing what I just lost
as I saw her walk away from me.
Days turn to nights
and darkness falls
and deep inside my heart
Look Up at the Starslook up at the starsMore Like This
surrounded by each other
a blanket of darkness lets them shine
look up at the stars
I am alone
They are like me, but I, not like them
Because I am alone
In a world full of strangers
I am alone
In this land full of dangers
Stereotype MeYou try to make me fit into your stupid thoughtsMore Like This
as one thing
I am only a thing to you
something you can fit into a category
I am a cheerleader
that must mean I'm stupid or popular
Just because I wear black clothes
and eyeliner I am goth
And every day I read books
Which makes me automatically a nerd
I don't have tons of friends to hang out with
so now I am a loner
To you I am an object
that you can place
where you see fit
I am much more than that
in every way
I am a cheerleader
and so much more than that
I am me
so just try
to stereotype me
SafeI'm trying, alright?More Like This
I'm trying so hard to get better.
And I'm pouring my heart out with each letter.
I'm trying to hide what I am.
I'm trying to believe
That I can.
I'm trying to not embarrass you,
And to be okay.
I'm trying to get by,
Like I have every single day.
I'm trying to suppress
The anxiety and the fear.
I'm trying to put the knife down,
I'm trying to think clear.
Maybe the white-washed walls,
They would be a better place.
The mirror holds a stranger,
It's the only place I'd be safe.
Scorpiussometimes,More Like This
i wake up with bits of Orion
still stuck between my teeth.
& i grin, remembering
the face of every lover
i’ve managed unscathed,
to crawl out from underneath.
‘ad astra’ inked into ankle bones
like little wings, Pluto’s underworld
ripe, coursing through my veins:
i stake claim to clavicles.
between the constellations
of tongues & weak limbs,
i get off
on all the ways mere mortals
beg me to sacrifice them
to the heavens.
Collection of poetic nothings.We were opal Tuesdays,More Like This
tattooed into the
rose garden curve
of my vertebrae,
gliding me through this wild youth.
But, like Icarus—
I was a sky conqueror
& these silk wings
touched the sun.
My inhalations are heavy,
like the earth he bruises
beneath his fingertips
as I chase silence.
"You've got a tongue
made for words." He says
against the arrogant thorns
of my briar spine.
"Learn to love yourself."
How do I say I love you
without saying I love you?
"I want to replace my heart with you."
You are spider silk woven
into my harvest moon
limbs traveling this road map
of songbird sin.
You are not just in my head now,
you are dancing in the lingering stars
of my night-witch frame
& setting me on fire.
You're not bruised enough
to write poetry.
Allow these bones to tell your story, Love.
Bone child,this December's winterMore Like This
has your ribs cocooned with
mine. & this wander(lust) heart
will sustain warmth for the both of us.
August Lover,I want to wrap myself in your air,More Like This
hold your secrets between my
ribcage-embrace & just
dust.I'm chokingMore Like This
on the ink-dipped fingers
of verbs & metaphors
still lodged in this bruised,
paper crane throat;
of your words,
still kissing my ribs.
How can you judge me-
when you don't bother
to read the naked poetry
beneath the temple of my flesh?
How long can butterfly
ankles hold up a
Don't bother whispering
your secrets to nebulae,
not even the dust in my veins
will listen anymore.
Shy moon,i've got love carved into honeysuckle wrists,More Like This
a murder of crows in my throat,
& a pack of wolves at my back.
i want to know truths behind these myth eyes, &
the distant galaxies under your fingertips.
but, love me. love me, Love.
show me what's beyond Grimm fairy tales
spare me your ribs;
this skyscraper heart
needs a place to go.
fly.this is hard for the world around us to grasp:More Like This
these wildfires raging in our retinas
& the sins we wear like demonic similes
on our tongues- they are not enough.
& i am so fucking sorry of saying i'm sorry.
but, tell me,
what is a young poet(ess) to do
with veins made of kite strings?
I want to forget names,& faces,More Like This
I want to forget their veins,
fingerprints forever burned into my eyelids;
wrists I can't look at
without longing to tear apart.
Spine full, and spiteful:
I want to cry
roses in my midnight tea
for these star collapsed lungs.
I want to cry for her
& for me.
she wont allow me the courtesy.
No wander about it, just lust.You were a mid-morning train wreck,More Like This
the embodiment of poetry.
& my clavicles whispered too many nothings
about your summer storm hands,
folding like paper cranes
to make wishes upon themselves.
wishes are for the weak-
do something about this quaking heart
& freezing fingers.
I think I found God then,