InsurgentGhost - Hello Poetry

Once in a while I look back at her; the girl with stars in her fists, fingernails rendered ****** by her gnashing teeth Those oval beds were uniform, honed. I still wonder whether she truly dared to scatter the light from her palms or if she let it sink inside and hide with all the other things she'd ever longed to hold.

0

Apr 12, 2024

Apr 12, 2024 at 7:08 PM UTC

absorbed

Once in a while I look back at her; the girl with stars in her fists, fingernails rendered ****** by her gnashing teeth Those oval beds were uniform, honed. I still wonder whether she truly dared to scatter the light from her palms or if she let it sink inside and hide with all the other things she'd ever longed to hold.

7

Time keeps passing I've heard it said that life goes on Every year another change to the face I spent my whole life growing Each turn another phase of the moon in my mind, glowing This body no longer suits my discontent This body didn't begin here; this is now Time Fickle thing, the word we use to tell our stories straight in order A thing you touch on your skin this line, wrinkle, spot showing every smile you didn't hold within; every joke not forgot This body no longer suits my discontent This body belongs to my story Skin breaks down over time, so why do we worship it? The moon will fall in its time; it still glows Our stories will be lost in our time; we still write them Our bodies will turn into soil Treat your compost well It'll be time, soon

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Sep 23, 2023

Sep 23, 2023 at 10:36 AM UTC

Treat Your Compost Well

Time keeps passing I've heard it said that life goes on Every year another change to the face I spent my whole life growing Each turn another phase of the moon in my mind, glowing This body no longer suits my discontent This body didn't begin here; this is now Time Fickle thing, the word we use to tell our stories straight in order A thing you touch on your skin this line, wrinkle, spot showing every smile you didn't hold within; every joke not forgot This body no longer suits my discontent This body belongs to my story Skin breaks down over time, so why do we worship it? The moon will fall in its time; it still glows Our stories will be lost in our time; we still write them Our bodies will turn into soil Treat your compost well It'll be time, soon

26

Something vile grew, at length, upon the ending of his gaze that landed on my mother's smile - where I would pass my days I'd walk along the wicked mile that breached the stones below I'd find myself upon the steps awhile, hesitant to go.

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Nov 26, 2022

Nov 26, 2022 at 8:39 PM UTC

Keeper

Something vile grew, at length, upon the ending of his gaze that landed on my mother's smile - where I would pass my days I'd walk along the wicked mile that breached the stones below I'd find myself upon the steps awhile, hesitant to go.

8

I have this craving for a calm I only get when I'm with you I have this feeling of pure joy I can't forget when I'm with you But now you're gone and I'm my own and I feel alone; perhaps it's true We painted all the pretty pictures and art is dead without you I have desires that come with aching when I wait here for you building up, becoming better maybe hating you, too I have this heartache that I carry as I walk without you Now you're gone and I feel like a stranger; perhaps it's true And when you left me behind I didn't stray - but I am new Now with all this love there's resentment - hot and blue There's a chill in this room that I've become used to Sometimes I think of what we were when I was all in with you Those times are passed, it's in the past next to the grave I dug to tell this truth.

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Jul 8, 2022

Jul 8, 2022 at 12:07 PM UTC

A Gravestone From The Girl Who Loves You

I have this craving for a calm I only get when I'm with you I have this feeling of pure joy I can't forget when I'm with you But now you're gone and I'm my own and I feel alone; perhaps it's true We painted all the pretty pictures and art is dead without you I have desires that come with aching when I wait here for you building up, becoming better maybe hating you, too I have this heartache that I carry as I walk without you Now you're gone and I feel like a stranger; perhaps it's true And when you left me behind I didn't stray - but I am new Now with all this love there's resentment - hot and blue There's a chill in this room that I've become used to Sometimes I think of what we were when I was all in with you Those times are passed, it's in the past next to the grave I dug to tell this truth.

26

Hands off Bans off Privacy invaded This system that we broke can't go a day without being sedated World views - outdated We've come back to a time when we have less autonomy than a corpse and all the men who said they'd fight for their sisters are silent as the rights are stripped away from the women they insist they never Hated

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Jun 29, 2022

Jun 29, 2022 at 8:20 PM UTC

America is Broken

Hands off Bans off Privacy invaded This system that we broke can't go a day without being sedated World views - outdated We've come back to a time when we have less autonomy than a corpse and all the men who said they'd fight for their sisters are silent as the rights are stripped away from the women they insist they never Hated

16

There is a place where the flowers sing -the trees sing -the stones sing but the olive tree does not sing In the may we walk, by the well, then the spring Drinking the water last April did bring We walk down the path of the Olive tree and condemn ourselves to -silence There is a place where the flowers cry -the trees cry -the stones cry but the olive tree does not cry In the June we walk, by sun, then the sky We walk down the path of the Olive tree and condemn ourselves to -violence

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May 20, 2022

May 20, 2022 at 7:45 AM UTC

The Olive Tree

There is a place where the flowers sing -the trees sing -the stones sing but the olive tree does not sing In the may we walk, by the well, then the spring Drinking the water last April did bring We walk down the path of the Olive tree and condemn ourselves to -silence There is a place where the flowers cry -the trees cry -the stones cry but the olive tree does not cry In the June we walk, by sun, then the sky We walk down the path of the Olive tree and condemn ourselves to -violence

19

Left Aghast, Agape, Aggrieved The open mouth of the -Cave- Yawns at me (ME!) Ice breath washes over my face (It) smells like the sea below where we know; where creatures live that do not -Breathe- and never Grow ;

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May 19, 2022

May 19, 2022 at 4:26 PM UTC

Where They Do Not Breathe

Left Aghast, Agape, Aggrieved The open mouth of the -Cave- Yawns at me (ME!) Ice breath washes over my face (It) smells like the sea below where we know; where creatures live that do not -Breathe- and never Grow ;

13

A shattered wing (of glass) that never flew and does not whisper to (or in) the wind The ice-touched bird lent snow to branches which wept songs that sang their sorrows across the promised land We drank the truths none dared to tell (We didn't understand) and dared to breathe the midnight waters (the well was cold, our senses left) Not night, but death; our dying breath

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Mar 26, 2022

Mar 26, 2022 at 8:21 PM UTC

Filler Title

A shattered wing (of glass) that never flew and does not whisper to (or in) the wind The ice-touched bird lent snow to branches which wept songs that sang their sorrows across the promised land We drank the truths none dared to tell (We didn't understand) and dared to breathe the midnight waters (the well was cold, our senses left) Not night, but death; our dying breath

13

We soften our No's with Thank You's and apologies We have to tell you we're important to people like Mother and Father before you see us as valuable It's like being Someone's daughter is more important than just being Someone. But we're privileged, of course We can have jobs like you and isn't Free the Nip a thing, too? 'Feminism is outdated' you say to all the women you claim you never hated You tell her to cover up (she's just feeding her baby) but you never think to look away You use the bible as your excuse but never want to pluck out your eye or pay for your version of the truth What's wrong with her? Why is she so rude? That's a funny question to ask Let's not ask it twice when so many women have bled (and died, or worse) for the simple act of being nice.

0

Mar 13, 2022

Mar 13, 2022 at 9:05 PM UTC

Not All Men, But Probably You.

We soften our No's with Thank You's and apologies We have to tell you we're important to people like Mother and Father before you see us as valuable It's like being Someone's daughter is more important than just being Someone. But we're privileged, of course We can have jobs like you and isn't Free the Nip a thing, too? 'Feminism is outdated' you say to all the women you claim you never hated You tell her to cover up (she's just feeding her baby) but you never think to look away You use the bible as your excuse but never want to pluck out your eye or pay for your version of the truth What's wrong with her? Why is she so rude? That's a funny question to ask Let's not ask it twice when so many women have bled (and died, or worse) for the simple act of being nice.

27

I want to bathe in the feeling I get when I read a paragraph of raw description - emotions laid out on paper, the smell of ink wafting around me. The choked-up sensation that swells and dips like life is tangible and textured and delicious. The written rain that runs down my skin is somehow more tantalizing than the reality I face when I open the door and see true storms with lightning that lives, breathes, and breaks. I want to drink down the words on this page and live on blackberry ink and anonymous thoughts.

0

Jan 23, 2022

Jan 23, 2022 at 3:38 PM UTC

Swept Away.

I want to bathe in the feeling I get when I read a paragraph of raw description - emotions laid out on paper, the smell of ink wafting around me. The choked-up sensation that swells and dips like life is tangible and textured and delicious. The written rain that runs down my skin is somehow more tantalizing than the reality I face when I open the door and see true storms with lightning that lives, breathes, and breaks. I want to drink down the words on this page and live on blackberry ink and anonymous thoughts.

18