Dictionary poemA hairstreak butterflySo freeFlits upon a windWith gleeThe wind which comesThence the southInto a fieryMonster’s mouthBut do not judgeThis divine beastFor all his ownAre now deceasedAncient one uponWhich fucus growsSlowly march onPast a roseWith a beautyMore disturbingThan an incestualCourtingA petal fallsDrifting slowlyInto a pondOf water holyOf blue so deepAnd so clearAs if with aSmooth shellac shearThe ripples spreadSing and riseUp to the greatBlue open skiesUpon which youCan plainly seeA small hairstreakOnce again free
Arrogant Rose Arrogant RoseI think that I shall never see a rose lovelier than one like meThe others picked from the ground to counsel poor victim's cupid foundPick the petals, one, two, three, Tell me rose does he love me?A rose who sits broken in hand A rose without it's beauty grandA rose who cannot even cry A rose who now begins to dieA rose that I shall never be For not even God can pick grand me.
HauntingsHauntingsDemons hiding in the darkCircling their pentacle markBreeding darkness, breeding dreadAll around, all others deadUnstoppable force, from Hell's divideAll living left now run and hideUnseen malice in the nightAn evil grin so toothy whiteWith dripping fangs bared at your neckThe blood spreads on throughout the wreckThe cold envelopes pulling you to sleepShh, close your eyes, there's nothing to see
I don't know what to doI am so lostDon't know what to doI am so confusedHow do I fixThis problem I bring upon myselfAnd those dearest to meI'm lost between two worldsWith a wall in betweenDividing the peopleI care about mostIt's so hard to leap overthis wall every timeKnowing how much it hurtsto leave someone behindNot knowing if I'll be welcomed backwith open arms or a smile at allBut I can't leave anyone behindI'm trying my best to thin this divideThis leaping is painfulI'm ripping in twoMy confusion is growingAs my heartache does tooI am so lostI should just leave them aloneI am too exhaustedTo even go onI'll just crawl in myselfAnd wait till I'm gone
The Itsy Bitsy SpiderThe Itsy Bitsy SpiderTried to climb out the holeThen came the painAnd made poor spider fallThe darkness slowly ate himAnd rattled up his brainAnd the Itsy Bitsy SpiderTried to climb out againOne heave upwardPoor spider falls down twoHe's not getting out of hereNow what can he doThe darkness reaches for himTo drag him to his endAs the Itsy Bitsy SpiderTries to climb out againThe end keeps getting fartherPoor spider struggles onA brief moment of sunshineThen darkness comes alongWill spider ever get outOr has his hope all goneThe darkness latches onTo drag him to the dark bottomThe Itsy Bitsy SpiderTried to climb out the holeHopeless and in painAnd praying not to fallStruggling on upwardAnd sliding down a messThe Itsy Bitsy SpiderClimbs to find his happiness
Have you ever met someone?Have you ever met someoneWho felt just like homeWhere honesty is not a problemAnd your fears are all goneThey can always make you laughAlways make you smileYou aren't afraid of being weirdYou could just hold their hand awhileHave you ever met someoneWho could brighten your dayJust by looking at youJust by seeing their faceYou know how much of a messeachother areAnd you still see the bestOf who eachother areHave you ever met someoneThat you love to hold closeIts so hard to say goodbyeAnd you just can't let goThey may not be what you expectedBut they're all you want and moreOthers don't understand itThey don't see your's at the coreHave you ever met someoneWho was all of these thingsAnd when they hold you closeIt makes your heart singIf you haven't met someone yetI can't wait till you doIt is a magical worldAnd for me its come true
NightmaresThey always start the same. The dark. The closet. The shivering cold, stone floor. I hurt everywhere. Stabbing pains and an aching body grip me. A sliver of light slides through a crack in the door, and lights upon my dirty face. I reach a shaking hand and turn the knob.I’m met with a blinding flash of light that burns and sends me to the ground, my head on fire. A number of strange familiar voices call out to me. So many voices, I can’t make sense.“Worthless,”“Creepy,”“Sack of shit,”“It’s so pointless,”“Eww, get away from me!”Then a last voice rings out and brings me to my senses. “It’s time to teach you a lesson, Boy.” Shaking without a thought of why, and so dizzy I can’t see straight. The voices, they hate me. They won’t shut up.OUCH!I’m hit!I’m hit!I’m hit!Rocks,fists,a whip,a
I Hate snow I like snow. The boy thought as he watched it drift lazily down through the branches to land at his feet. It was a rare treasure to find anything he liked as he hated so much. But what could you expect of a boy who had only been shown hate. Why did everyone hate him? Spade didn’t really know. He just knew they did. The other grown-ups hated him because he never talked. It wasn’t that he couldn’t, he just didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. The other kids hated him because he was different. He always wore black, his hair hung in his face, he was never happy or excited, he didn’t talk, and he was always alone. The teachers hated him because he would never participate or bring back the work they gave him. He could do it, but it was always taken from him and ripped up, sometimes shoved into his mouth before he was pushed into the dark basement.
Ace of the GameWhy am I Ace?For that is my nameWell that is becauseI’m the Ace of this gameWhat is this game?This cruel game of life!And through this cruel gameWe struggle and strifeClub emblems on shieldsAnd spades in our handsAll cloaked in blackWe fight through the landsWith diamond studded fingersAnd red hearts on sleevesThey scream red thoughts loudlyFor others to seeThe cards will be dealtThe players will moveThe chips will be stackedThe dice will be rolledThey spin the spinnerAnd now you move fourThe timer counts downAs they tally the scoreThen comes the last roundThe last move, final playI’ll make my bets knownAce of spades I will layThrow my card without fearAnd let fate decideIf I win or I loseAnd what price is impliedDeath’s the final gambleThe last round of the gameAnd when I lay my card downI’ll choose how I take aimIn a field of paper flowersPiled up to my kneesFilled with words left unsaidOnes that may just give peaceMy fa
Bullied On Our Friendly Website DA There was once a two authors on a website that wanted to let their opinion out.But a famous author set to put them out.She took the flame of these little author’s hearts making them burn from blue to red.And here’s what she said,“Your little fire shall be extinguished because I want you to get the Fuck Out!”The tiny authors wept and cried.Wondering was it because they picked a side.Maybe if they had gone with the flow of everyone elsethey wouldn't have suffered being a different self?The small male author thought it was too much to handle and left.But the dainty female author stayed behind. HoweverThe light within her grew dimmer and dimmer.And its glow became barely a shimmer.Her originality became to be like everything else she owned: plastic.She wasn't real anymore; just another author following the trends.All hope was lost.No one to come save her.Sadness reigned within her, making her shallow and pale as Frost.Not
Suckerpunch SweetheartRed lipstick war paintEyeliner eyes.I am a soldier in my own war;A force split in two sides.I am a force of natureBring about my own raptureAnd I’ll bring you to your knees.Say pleaseLittle girl lost.Cut off my hairCut into my skinPretty princess girlCardinal sin.Let me inLet me in.Sugar in my veinsAnd poison in my heart;I can turn bloodInto a work of art.I won’t go there againWon’t do itI won’t.HandsA sea of handsAnd andsIn my head.A universe inside.Dead.Icy skinFiery eyesNobody knowsJust what's inside.
V o i c e sThese whispers in my head,trying to push me to the end.All I want is to go home,but then I remember,I've always been alone.
absent resolvei.i cradle my hopewith both hands,as if holding it closewill give it the warmthto stay alive.when you come nearit flares and rustles,begging to take flight;yet i am both caressand cage.ii.we have confused our signals,mixed our drinks andnever together.closure looms ominousbut i would rather forgetthan be caught in thisluminous void ofperhaps -iii.i am weakand perhapsyou are blind,we, silent,are nothingperhaps we could beeverythingif only we spoke.iv.enigma,you have unknowinglytwisted yourselfin helical fundamentalsabout my identity,shaped me inabsence andthe embers ofa chance.i wish i knewwhen to releasethis frail hope.v.we're both drunkand you're shaking,caught in a momentneither here nor now.entwined fingersbring you back tothe present, and i lingerbut you are eager to eclipsethis vulnerability,so you run.vi.i'm too afraid to ask,but at least the question'sanswered:we're both cowards.
bound in retrospectpart i.let's talkabout wreckage and dreaming,about nights wept weary,and how city limitscompress to claim youwhen you run.let’s talkabout slippingaway early mo(u)rningand choosing dark over light;how eventually i stoppedwishing upon starsbecause really,what’s the point.let's talk;there is no true wayfor someone this self-consciousto let loose streams ofconsciousness,but i'm trying.interlude: youyou,you are an immersionheartbeatracing down my spine,along vertebrae as ifthey belong to youbut they shouldn’t,not now.you,you are long-limbed eyelashes,a study in faux-reluctance.you are a cagei never could penetratealthough you never had much troubleignoring my reluctance;penetration became a gamei never won.part ii.let’s talk;this was never a love story,but add enough adjectiveand i guess it can bewhatever you want it to be.warped to your ideal,turn me to my better angleand hide the flaws;hide the fa
he/himsomeone came out to me recently, asked me to usehis correct pronouns when we’re alone,but says whenever i’m over at his home,‘please could you switch back to the wrong ones? i don’twant my parents to know who i am.’ so every time i sit at their tablefor mashed potatoes and peas, i listen to a father askinghis son how her day was and i hear him start to think that he’s aloneand i watch every wrong word they say strike like an axe intothe trunk of a young sapling who’s juststarting to grow into his own.i know they don’t know better, but it’s hard notto hate them when i am censoring every word i saybefore it comes out of my mouth, changing secrets intodinner time conversations, because a boy does not feelsafe enough in his own skin to come clean about somethingas pure as the foundation he has been built upon.later he tells me that he wishes he were strong enoughto just tell them, but he knows his father stillhas the c
Can I Get a Receipt?I gave the worldto youand all I gotin returnis bloodied, mutilated wristsand a death wish.
twenty-sixgive me the ocean;let the salt nip at my skinand sand crush beneath my soles.throw me to the sun;char my skin to the bone.sink me under the depthstill my lungs start to swimthat weightless embraceis how i feel with him.
PianoAt night someone plays the piano in my living roomThe song is mournfulAnd I hate it, the feelings it wakes in meA stirring hungerI find myself yearning for somethingNameless, resonating, the music echoes throughThe house, like a warm memoryHauntingClinging to the empty hallways There's a void inside my chestResembling the handsOf another soul
Lovely SongThe caged bird sings solemlyTo ones who do not hearThe lovely song filled withHeart of soul and tears