TrappedI feel trapped like a bug in amber,
Trapped like a bird in a cage.
I never wanted to be here,
So turned around at my age.
I thought I'd be somewhere lovely
Where the sun shines and the rain pours.
Not here in the middle of nothing and nowhere,
Here I can't feel anymore.
I feel so lost in the woods,
So lost to myself.
I never wanted any of this.
Like a child, my world's on a high shelf.
I thought I would be there with it.
In it things would happen; would exist.
Not like this with no-one and no way.
My world is like smoke in a fist.
To a placeThere were Rhododendrons
In the corner of the park.
Pure white flowers
Except one that was dark.
There was music
Dancing in the air.
Right behind us on the bench swing,
It followed us to the stairs
This is not to a person
It's to a place.
Where we tossed rocks in the ocean
Where we left a trace.
Pretty LieThe pond is my mirror
The trees are my sky
The moss is my blanket
The deer is my guide.
The birds are my music
The stars are my light
The flowers are my crown
The horizon is my wall.
None of that is true.
PopularityYou're so popular, your word is the law
Crowds place you on a pedestal and listen in awe
They'd suffocate themselves to meet you up there
If you told them that popularity was more important than air.
People hurt themselves to get you to hear what they say
Still they give you the power to throw their words away.
It's not you that hurts them, not one person alone
It's themselves and each other that build you your throne.
CastlesLong ago and far away,
In a castle built to stay,
Nothing left, and nothing right.
Nothing but encroaching night.
At the dusky death of day,
In a castle built to stay,
The dark is eating me alive,
The dark is wanting to survive.
By the curve of azure bay,
In a castle built to stay,
I'm alone, and I'm afraid,
I wish that I had never prayed.
On the sun's last saffron ray,
In a castle built to stay
I will live and I will die
Both while dreaming I can fly.
On FateHope lies in chances that a thing might be changed,
But it's three A.M.and I've fallen apart.
Thinking that life is prearranged
I've decided that fate is hope's enemy at heart.
One is unchanging and cannot fall.
The other is needed to exist at all.
Collection Poet's Kingdom
The poet overthrew the monarch
Now words will rule, and ink-stained hands
And whispered rhymes over loud commands.
Faith in Humanity
I deny the existence of the holy spirit;
Lightning strike me down.
You pray as if someone will hear it,
Some man with a beard and a crown.
No time to think
As I run towards the end
This is our last drink
So here's to life my new friend.
Nothing is in the past tense;
The past won't set me free.
Not 'I loved', but 'I love' the thing that's lost
The thing that won't let me be.
You Are Nothing
You are lost in a vacuum, lost in a void
Whatever you had was long ago destroyed.
And now you speak as if you know,
But you know nothing but the show.
Star-crossed lovers never loved as we,
And far-flying birds never were as free.
You whisper in my ear.
You never say a word.
You pretend that I'm not here.
I pretend I never heard.
Fool The wise don't fear the unknown
A smiling fool said.
But he was a hypocrite because
He feared the dark beneath his bed.
The StreamIt's a place alone
Not a lonely place
With a softly whispering stream.
A basswood tree by the side
And a sea of ferns
Sway in a shared dream.
There's a pool on the edge
Where the tadpoles swim
Oblivious to the moon,
And a nest in the tree
Padded with down
That the birds will finish soon.
The still is broken
Only by the boughs
Stirring in a gentle breeze
And the tiny fish
In the clear water
Swim upstream with ease.
There's a leaf,
Now only veins
It's a delicate lace
By the whispering stream
Is a place alone
And not a lonely place.
The Darkness is LightOutside, in the pouring rain
A lone girl stands
Her soul attached to a chain
And she has shaken hands
Within the house behind her
She can hear them fight
Her mother and father creates a big stir
And frightens her away from their sight
The outside welcomes her with open arms
But yet she cannot travel further than the curb
And yes she knows all the harms
That can be described with every verb
Her explanation for this
Is simple yet misunderstood
One which someone who can dismiss
It as ignorance and stupidity
But she speaks it as understandingly as she could
“The darkness is light
The light is darkness
The darkness is so bright
The light has a powerful abrasiveness.”
Blood trickles down her nostril
Plummeting down like the rainfall
“The darkness is what I’m used to
I cannot walk out into a better life
Only if they truly knew
How difficult it is to tolerate this life
“The light is not welcoming enough
To convince me any further
I guess I’m just not that to
DrowningHow wonderful it feels
To fall back
Into the hands
Of the water below.
Unlike everyone else
Water envelops you,
Makes you feel light,
The only direction
You’ve ever known.
Your hair moves around you like
Seaweed on the ocean floor.
Bubbles that once
Had a home inside your lungs
Escape freely into the water.
And climb up higher
To the safety of the surface.
“This is what is left
Of my existence.
Little bubbles floating up,
Higher and higher,
While I sink,
Lower and lower”
And as you feel
The last bubble,
The last of your air,
Flow out of your lips
You couldn’t help but smile.
Even as your lungs
Screamed in pain
You ignored it
Like you’ve done for years.
Even with the water
You still managed
But not in sadness,
For now you were leaving.
Leaving the pain.
Leaving the sadness.
Leaving the hurt.
Leaving the cruel words
That others w
Frozen in time -c-Pocket watch stopped
two ticks past twelve-thirty—
the time forever reminding me
of muddy shoes,
a broken necklace clasp,
and your fingers
flitting like hummingbirds
across the freckles
on my shoulders.
My pendant held the tarnish
like your eyes held the starlight—
two ticks past twelve-thirty
captured fuzzy bits of our encounter
like brushstrokes in a Monet.
I never dreamed time could
stand still at midnight,
two ticks past twelve-thirty.
Stars shown like diamonds in
a universe of nothing but endless…
soundless time, they mocked and teased
these simple little encounters.
to bony fingers
in the abyss
of an ink-dark moon
to keep count
of falling stars,
but the metal
grew cold on my skin
and all I could think
was how the morning light
With the arrival of the sun,
you exhaled a silent goodbye,
leaving my bare shoulders shivering,
newly exposed to solitude's stillness.
I can only cling to the warmth
Silent School DaysI am refusing to look back fondly
On the so-called best days and years of my life
So my memories will not deceive me
With rose tinted reminiscence and hindsight
School was nothing more than a breeding ground
For close minded and close hearted thinking
Education was drip fed like water
But was too contaminated for drinking
We were fenced in along side our ambition
And watched it fade as we were forced to learn
From teachers for whom our best interests
Did not seem to be any of their concern
Most days it felt more like a factory
Than a fertile field of free thought
Manufacturing these children’s futures
With the useless information that they taught
Truth is they were bound by bureaucracy
Their once nurturing hands tied up in red tape
And without any passion for teaching
They began to neglect and humiliate
So I’d go to the library, see spaces on shelves
This told me that there were others like me
Wanting to lose themselves between book covers
Before losing their true identity
The Woodlot, In AutumnI can use all of the words I want
But I'm wasting time
For anything that I write down
About the barren woods this evening
Will come out wrong
It's not a graveyard of gnarled black fingers clutching at the sky
It's not a shadowed land of moss and secrets in the hollow
It's not something primordial
On a busy night, passing by,
All that comes to mind is the reality:
A field of matchsticks-in-the-making, done for the year.
The Green of my Heartbeats5: Red, rude, a bully.
She was bored, propping her face up on her palms. Her teacher, high-voiced and chirping in fuzzy green flurries, was writing rows of sevens on the board. White chalk. The sevens were glimmering in turquoise, and she smiled.
Sevens were nice, friendly. Seven would never eat nine. Nine was just a baby, like her brother at home.
She was only five. Fives were bullies, nasty. Bright garish red, like B. B was red, but he was not as rude. He forgot things though. Like his keys. Impatient.
She sighed, her head slipping and resting on her wrist. She could feel her pulse on her cheek.
"Seven!" said her teacher, continuing to fill the board. "Say it with me. Seven!"
Later, they got to practice identifying numbers. She had learned before, at home. Kindergarten was not meeting her new knowledge expectations.
Sitting at the table, she strived to make conversation to ease the ache inside her brain. "I like sevens. Aren't they the prettiest color you've ever seen?"
They boy next
SolitaryTrigger warning: Discussion of sanity and suicide.
The plan had been so simple. Thirty six hours in solitary confinement, Meredith was struggling. Last week this had all seemed so simple. So obvious. It seemed like she had devised the perfect escape plan. Things weren't working out as intended.
Firstly, and above all else - even breathing or thinking - there was the thirst. Her throat roared with it and she could feel its acidic anger snarl its way up and down her throat with each breath. She'd imagined discomfort, but not pain. She was starting to reconsider.
Her tongue was sore. The slab of meat in her mouth felt like unswallowed food as it got drier, and the taste when she could summon enough saliva to swallow was rancid, and reminded her of her ex boyfriends unwanted dry probings. In a desperate bid for freedom a few hours ago she had tried biting through her tongue, people did it in prison so she knew it was possible, but the pain was too sharp to work through and she didn'
Don't Be Afraid, But I'm AsianI saw you starring at me for a while.
Allow me to answer the question you’ve wanted to ask during that period of time,
But didn’t have the courage to approach me with (I bet you’ve been hanging out with too many cats)
Yes I am Asian. But no I am not a math whiz.
No, I have not surgically put a computer chip in my brain.
(Though if that actually worked, it’d be awesome like… that’s fucking awesome awesome)
I have yet to try eating dog, I hear, however, it tastes like beef.
What a cow one must be to eat such a being!
I’ve always been one to question the beliefs of my race.
Many traditions are not quite to my taste.
Despite what you may think, I am not a communist, barely a socialist.
Though I am young still and do not completely comprehend politics, admitly.
Still stuck in th
In The AshesThere are nights
Filled with the most desolate and loathsome hours
In these times,
I see the world
Smoldering in the ashes
Of thought less hate,
Bringing me out of my nightmares
To awake to a world much more Cruel
Smoke collapsing my lungs,
Like a mine
Just to cover up the sorrow
That seems to find it's way
Under my skin,
Not a soul to hear me confess
The endless sins of this life
Only my shaking hands,
And the tainted imagery that haunts my memory
Like a ghost in the fog,
Those nights are never ending
Beginning in the middle,
Trapping me just at the end,
The phoenix I am not
Rising from the ashes
To start a new,
Agony will hit my throat tonight,
Realization will set in my chest,
As I flee these cracked portraits,
And fight for my end
But I can not die,
I can not rest
I am like a fish,
Dancing for a breath
Caught out of water,
Watching this world set ablaze.
pipedreamhomesick, he said,
words like fire as they
dripped out of his head
lovestruck, he cried,
words like ice when
he says them he sighs
deep, melancholy lullabies
dumbfounded, he wept,
words like the tender
broken heart that he kept
cuddled under his ribs
for a place that like
love, didn't exist,
but he tried
enough to find it.
as he tried to stop the
chatter running around in his head.
Long Distance LoveDarling,
let me take a moment
to breathe you in.
To run my fingers
across your face
kiss my forehead
so tenderly I'll
feel its mark
Lets take a moment
for that dreadful goodbye.
let me remember
of your lips
instead of the miles
that tear us apart.
Lets take a moment
to wipe our eyes -
to stay strong.
let me take this
and treasure it
with all I am.
For in the blink
of an eye,
you'll be gone.
I'm fifteen years old.
I'm doing the very best that I can.
I am confident in saying that I am timid,
and I am never timid about my confidence.
I question everything, and pretend to have all the answers.
I am scared.
Much of the time, I am scared.
Of being in crowds.
Sometimes of dreaming, and other times, of waking up.
In other ways, I am brave.
I can be very brave when it counts.
Usually, I don't even know it,
when I am.
Not until someone tells me
"That was very brave."
But then again, I don't know many things at all, until I'm told.
I may be young, but I've been in love.
Please don't scoff; it was real.
It was magical, and wonderful.
I felt safe with him. I knew he could never, ever hurt me.
He sang to me.
He read me whole books.
He wrote me things.
He worshipped me, though I wasn't thin, or extraordinary...
He told me I was both.
He told me I was perfect.
That he loved me.
Until he called me on our ten-month anniversary,
(I know that
Her Second HeartShe sees him laying there
Unable to speak
Unable to move
To breathe on his own
The car speeding down the road
at 45 miles per hour
in a 25 miles per hour zone
stole all of it from him
5 minutes to midnight
5 minutes until they pull the plug
She stares at his empty shell
The shell of the boy she once loved
and still loves
Her love never confessed
3 minutes to midnight
She holds his stiffened hand
and whispers to him
"I love you"
1 minute to midnight
His family files in
saying their goodbyes
The girl does not move
from her love's side
30 seconds to midnight
Tears are shed
None as despaired as the girl's
The droplets falling, decorating his pale face
"I love you" She whispers again
The plug is pulled
Severing his last lifeline
His face is covered
He is taken out of the room
His family leaves
But the girl stays
She sinks to the floor
When she looks up
She sees a note on the floor
Her name written on it
inside a clumsily drawn heart
His trademark bad ha
Being Kind To WormsA puff of pollen
snuggled into my ear-
She blew in from
her cotton cloud father
from his cottenwood god-
and told me how to feel
She told me from now on,
She's only writing love poems
But ends up instead
writing a lot about
I sat in an alley
in between office buildings
and thought about jungles.
The ground pushed worms
out from their homes
to make room for the rain
like birthing daughters
of dirty water.
Be kind to them;
by this I mean
stuff them into a rotten apple
and put them in the freezer.
They'll go right to sleep.
I sat in a burning building
in between eternities
and thought about worms.
from its cumulus father
from the same god as me-
splattered into my ear canal
dissolving the cotton puff
and as she died,
she told me
from now on
Sometimes when I'm driving-
everything goes dark-
my car shrinks in on me-
I get very cold-
and everything around me-
Synonym, SubstituteGoogle Search: How to get rid of a headache.
When I was in third grade, I learned everything and nothing. Ask a teacher where to find the purpose of life, and they'll say in their classroom. But in truth, I found it in third grade. In third grade I learned how to write because I was there one day, but was absent they day they taught us how to many feet are in a yard, and I still don't know.
However, I did learn how to use synonyms. So I can clearly say that my headache is pulsing and pounding and throbbing and thumping, which are not only synonyms but also alliterations. I can say my headache is omnipresent, pervasive, always there. However, I cannot come up with a synonym for the cause because it is unknown, indefinite, unspecified.
Sometimes the health professionals, doctors, physicians ask me when the headache started and I tell them I don't know. One day it just appeared and now it won't go away. I say that maybe it's been with me since my birth, my beginning. Maybe i
supernova brightit's raining outside. always a little colder when you are lonely. i just want to find myself. i keep running in and out of my mind, but i can't tell where i'm standing anymore. or if i'm lying down.
last night i stood on my roof for hours. my arms outstretched, i let the rain fall over me. i have never been so cold. the edge was slippery and the distance to the ground below made me feel i was soaring.
in a way, i was.
i can't tell you what it's like because i don't know. i shed my body and floated between clouds, wisps and winds tearing at me, pulling me apart and piecing me together with raindrops, teardrops.
"the sky cries for me," i said.
she looked up; "the sky comes for me."
supernova bright, i want a shot of your light. i want a taste of the sun. i want to trace a history in notes, tell it the way only our music can.
i want to remember everything as it was. as it is. as it should be. but it's dark in here. it's cold in here.
give me a light
FriendlessThere's a little boy who walks to school,
Nobody knows his name.
No matter what he tries to do,
It is always the same.
He keeps up with all the trends,
He knows them inside out.
Each one he pulls off perfectly,
Even that selfie-photo pout.
Each week he brings a box of muffins,
Though nobody knows why.
He used to try and hand them out,
Now he doesn't even try.
He shares the muffins with the crows
and eats them one by one.
For consuming that much sugar,
He sure looks miserable when he's done.
He looks down at the empty box
and you see a little smile.
The crows fly off and he lies down;
They'll all be full for quite a while.
The same routine, every week,
I think so that he can pretend,
That in the year that he's been here,
He's made at least one friend.