Through the midnight branches he stares with golden eyes, watching, waiting, hoping. Fingers and lips curl in anticipation; the running game. "You flee, I'll hide. You wait, and I'll catch you." A ruby cloaked girl awakes from the trauma of her past with heavy breath and even heavier heart. A yellow gaze haunts her every night and in the moonlit corners of the room come sinister whispers, "All the better to see you with, my dear." Complex thoughts intrude on sleep, marring any thoughts of quiet rest and ghostless dreams. She searches the lines in her palms for answers, but all she can remember are the cries of her ancestors, a knife, and his gilded, silver smile.
Cute, talented, romantic, adorable
I am one of his biggest fans
He loves his girl fans, loves singing, loves horror films
Afraid of losing exo and losing his one and only girl
He wants to lean on Sehun’s shoulder
Resident of my mind and heart
There are a lot of things I ought to feel guilty for,
but being happy isn't one of them.
So why is it that after four years of hating myself
I feel bad for having the slightest bit of self-esteem?
Maybe it's because the people I used to suffer with
are still suffering.
Things aren't getting any better for them,
and there is nothing I can do to fix it.
Or maybe it's because I did nothing to earn this bliss.
All I did was move to a new city,
surround myself with new people,
and turn into a brutally honest bitch.
I never meant to become so cold.
I guess I was just sick of being told
that I was too god damn passive.
I hated being passive,
being nice to people who I secretly loathed,
being the girl with the bright hair but the dull personality.
Yes, I have changed,
but I have transformed into a person that I kind of like.
So why do I feel so guilty?
You know this never should have happened.
I was never suppose to write a single poem.
Let alone have followers, comments and views.
But here we are and I have you to thank.
And this is my thank you to you all.
My first round of 'thank you's' goes to my followers.
Devlin Andrew Harris, who is quite remarkable, followed me before I had even written anything.
Charlotte Weigh, my most favorite person in the whole world
Nicholas Jones, who was inspiration behind 100 of my poems; yes I counted.
Alysia Michelle; if you ever find yourself in Oregon we'll get some donuts ;P
Harry J Baxter
Nolan Fillman, you have no idea how much your following me, liking my poems, and comment meant to me.
THE WHITE RABIT
Floyd Allen Michael Redenbaugh
Nat Lipstadt, who is beyond brilliant and honored me with being a subject of his writing
Jonny Angel, thank you
Miss Jade Murder
Emily Rose Williams
Timothy, the nicest commenter ever
Peyton, she's pretty fantastic
Tyler Lynn Pulliam
Fadi Shaker, thank you
Kevin Song, sorry I'm not much of a talker
Soul in Torment, beyond words of the skill this one has.
Kelly Rose, thank you
Bailee K, missing you girl
Bilal Kaci, thank you too
Blue K, greatness she has
Tristan Costello, hello
Sadie K, the one with her hands covering her face
Queen of Pancakes, yes you
Whit Trash and Retarded
Ryan Cullen Macleod
The Masked Sleepyz
Okoye Chude Maryanne
and Haley Madison
Next my thanks wants to go to those who took the time to like and comment.
Ernest Gone, one of the first
Joshua X Noheart
Joshua Wann, this guy is the stuff
Andrew Joseph O'Donnell
A Mess of Words, you have no idea how highly I hold you. If this is a 'mess' I hope it never get's cleaned up
Austin Skye, thank you
Heather E Perry
4 different ---, why are you hiding from me?!
I wish I could cry
Kitty named Bailey
Whinging Wonder, I'm sorry
Chandin Clinton, I was never more honored.
Enter Name Here
Sally A Bayan
Yong Hwan Son
Rose Saba, thank you
The Wolf on Red Street
Josh Nunn, hats :)
N, hey you
Michael J Davies
Alexandria Christine Lund
Andrew Siegel, thank you
and Jade Ellen Peel.
And of course to all of you who read my words.
That means a lot to me.
And sure I could have simply said
"I hit 20,000 views thank you all!"
But honestly it means SO much that I needed
to thank each one of you individually.
I am know the pain and frustration of having a name misspelt so let me know and I'll fix it :)
She would often take long walks,
Long walks on a forest path, she hated walking around city blocks.
She would walk with such grace,
As her brunette hair brushed her dress trimmed with lace.
She would walk into a sunny glade,
The only place that wasn't filled with shade.
There she would lay in the evening sun,
The only place she didn't have to run.
She would dance all the time,
This was her place where she could be free to rhyme.
Then she would sit down and put flowers in her hair,
Here, she didn't need to hide from peoples staring stares.
Then she would begin to walk when it was time to go,
Before she would leave, the wind would begin to blow.
Knocking out the flowers in her hair,
She would then be exposed to their dark stares.
The flowers drifted in the wind,
And landed on the soft grass, may this be a reminder.
That I won't give you a dark stare,
If you my dear, decide to put flowers in your hair.
Her virgin ears... They were stolen.
Her wrists... Have scars from the ropes that had bound them.
Her legs... They had been spread open from the men that were to selfish even to notice her scream.
At age 9 she accidentally made this her identity.
Her stomach... No one can see it has blood streaked across it, from the knife that took away her pain.
At age 13 her chains kept building.
The secret of what happened still weighed heavy.
The men... They had kept coming.
Not knowing what to do, she turned to porn hoping that the satisfaction would come through.
Her knife keeps producing scars that mark her skin.
This, once again, accidentally became her identity.
Scars kept coming.
She couldn't trust anybody.
At age 14 her chains still weighed heavy, but something has changed.
A person... Sees the hurt that no one else can see.
A person... that has come from a similar past.
A person... Tells her it will be okay.
A person... Tells her not to be afraid.
A person... Tells her she is loved.
A person... vowed to help her find her voice.
However, the girl couldn't believe those words of truth.
- but still.. A person kept on trying.
This is her past, what about her present?
At age 15 her wounds begin healing - the words have broken through.
She has found... A person to finally trust.
She puts down the knife.
She can finally run free.
A life she can live, free from anxiety.
Searching every hole and cranny,
Wading deep in the lake of life,
Following every path and byway,
Lingering, always lost inside myself.
Holding life beneath the lamp of sadness,
Examining how each part does not fit,
Piecing parts of the cosmic puzzle so,
Never, ever fitting the circle in the square.
Past lives, family ever, ever spinning,
Knowing how they want to rule me,
Trying daily to create my path of wonder,
Cramming their views deep inside my soul.
Longing for the sweet girl living near,
To ride in on a horse of fiery flames,
Saving my soul and placing it in a box,
So she can determine if I am truly living.
Tasting the rain, so ever dancing free,
Whistling the wind, the cooling motion,
Seeing dark clouds spinning like a top,
Never coming to face my, my own reality.
Noticing in a magic mirror placed before me,
Aging, loosing, this youthful, fleeting force,
Staring at the old man, tired, searching still,
But never discovering the purpose of my life.
She is turning into her nasty habits again
What was once inside her goes down the drain
She never saw what other people saw in her
Why was she so mean to herself?
She didn't want to be broken
But she didn't want to be fixed
She always thought everything was just fine
And nothing was a big deal
Is she blind to whats around her?
Who is this girl?
Could she be me?
Could she be you?
No one will ever know who she is
Because she is a mystery and always will be
She’s been in my dreams
since I was fifteen
when the fire of ecstasy first licked me
and set the world alight.
She's a shape-shifter, sometimes
blonde, sometimes dark,
but always softly naked when she comes.
She often whispers secrets
in the molten nights.
But clumsily, when morning breaks,
I struggle to remember. Accordingly,
I search the far off mist and mountains
and subterranean rivers
every tumultuous day.
So it won’t surprise you now to know
that you’ll find me mostly
under the volcano.
This is the place of endless fire,
where the dreamers and the demons
dance with their desire.
Mike T Minehan
I tried to be a girl today
Painted my nails red and blue so I’d stop biting them
Tried to be pretty
With unbrushed hair and acne and calloused fingers
The nail polish chipped off and I peeled it away
My hands wreck the paint in place, what I paint ends up beyond the lines of my hand, its everywhere, its ugly, Its suffocating, I take it off
I want to say its a metaphor
Something about how I cant cover up what I am with pretty colors and shiny surfaces
It’s got to be indicative of future and past behavior about how I mess up preconcieved ideas or something about how I break the molds that others try to put me in
It happens every time
It smudges, fingerprint, grooves imprinting the paint with traces that I am there
Breaking the construct of beauty
I feel I cant say its anything more than smudged paint, despite how true the metaphors would be
Nothing more honest than the disfigured coverup and what lies beneath
I tried to be human today
Felt alien in my own skin
Wounded as I fought the judgement of a species I don't feel I belong to.
According to my mother I am an enemy of God for finding a temporary yet more beautiful love with her than I’ve found with a man.
I tried to be who you wanted, it never worked then, its naive to expect it to work now.
The mold that was cast does not, has not ever fit me.
I’d apologize for failing your expectations however there's no apologizing for finding solace amidst the storm.