Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I S A A C Mar 2022
my fingernails are growing so long, I can feel myself changing
my v line is bulging out, my chest is getting fuzzy
my beard is filling out, my sideburns connecting
stretch marks cover my body like a painting
I am a legend in the making
sculpting my body like clay, greek god coming your way
is it Zeus, Poseidon, whichever way
I am aligning myself to the path, to the way
tuning the frequency I'm on
to have me booming through the stereos
to have me popping, up up and way we go
Madisen Kuhn Mar 2021
come here. i’ll wrap myself around you
most of the time i’m sure i’m a sliding glass door
obvious like a schoolgirl crush
never able to hide the pink in my cheeks
or bury the truth behind enough broken parables
i’m about as vigilant as a chihuahua
perched on top of a sofa barking at the mailman
forgetting for a moment that you could pick me up
and put me down on the floor but
i promise i’ll just jump back up again
never fully accepting the plainness of my bluff
the winters crack my knuckles but
i don’t want to buy another pair of gloves
i’ve got ripped fingernails turned ******
and a kitchen sink full of unwashed mugs
and you’re pulling my hands away from my face
trying to show me how much we look the same
Anisah Mar 2020
There's dirt under my fingernails
There's pen marks on my hand
I don't know how they got there
I just don't understand
I'm curled up in a corner
My stomach is tied in knots
There's something crawling in my throat
I can't connect the dots
I've lost the feeling in my arm
From clutching it to my head
Crying up the distance
That they should have made instead
Faintly in the backdrop
They simmer in something mean
I wash my hand with soapy water
But the marks can still be seen
All I hear are glasses
They smash towords the floor
All I smell is putrid gas
From the night out just before
I'm getting kind of sleepy
And we're past the midnight mark
But it's difficult to dream
When the dreams you made are dark
But nontheless I'm sleeping
I move but make no sound
And I wake up in the morning
There's empty bottles all around
I don't know what happened to you
Because the laughter falls like sand
But there's dirt under my fingernails
And pen marks on my hands.

- Anisah Mariah
kat victoria Mar 2019
black lighters
chipped fingernails
i got rid of the old me
and i miss her like hell.
short hair
no cares
no trace
of what used to be there.
i turned into everything you hated
thinking somehow
that that would erase you from me.
transform into someone you never touched.
someone you never loved.
but now i’m just that
someone you never loved
someone you never could have.
and i’m sorry to say
that it didn’t work.
now there is no turning back
this is who i am now
and i have to live with that.
Sumaira Asghar Dec 2018
Years ago,
I had built
walls around me,
made of loneliness, anger-
and agony.
My remorse, my grief failed
to traverse these walls.
I might have knocked them down
as i run madly after clouds,
or do they run after me?
In this autumn evening,
my fingernails still can trace
walls built by you, invisible,
invincible.
have i
to
be
flown

eyes through seas
salt through sands sees
trying me through this
through
through
through
fabricated trees

my finger tips
brushing
tips

her hips watching me
wanting
me

in between


circle ing over canyons
here
we
breathe

from the cave
she calms
to me
listen
to
her
sing
what wings
?






















...
..
.
feather
tips
...
..
.
chaziyer Oct 2017
I will be a window
and the secrets you tell with your lips.
The sighs you blanket with the softest care
and the breaths you unknowingly count.

I will be the reminder of every second spent
and every moment felt.
A contradiction of your judgement
and a compliment of your beliefs.

I will be the ink of each unwritten imitation
of every mediocre song.
The scent of orange peel that trails on the
extravagant curves of your fingernails.

(3.19.09)
Zero Nine Jun 2017
The breath of the wind raises hairs on her neck.
She breathes out a clouded breath of whiskey fire.
Outside the venue, she kicks her shoes, waiting.
Where's the loser on the drum kit?
She knows she blows the set with her absence, but she can't
Stop tapping her heel at the wall, measuring splits in bricks
With her nicotine fingernails.
Where's She? She's such a *****.
The whole day closes in, in an instant, night descends.
Her twentieth cigarette dances in a rush to end it,
But her eyes catch sight of the mauve and indigo sky through
Buildings over bridges. Twilight ignites her quarter candlestick.
Outside the venue she kicks her shoes, waiting.
Outside her lonely lungs drink carcinogen
to an eager death with smokers. Cough.
Cough cough cough
Cool as ice.
Three

Love you all.
Next page