The light inside
Of me
Was burning, learning
How to write, despite
The fire was strong
Someone came along, among
Bad choices
Screaming noises
He whom turned of my light,
He led me to fight
All the writing,
Done, on display
He took it, and ripped it away, today
I feel like I should have fought more, war
Should have begun,
Poems should have sung
Several fires would have stung
Sitting here, looking back on what I could have had
Now I have 13 poems
And a fire, half ignited
Could you maybe help me, light it?
Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 5:12 AM UTC
I met with the devil, several
Times I thought I was developing in revel
Even though i was caught in the same level
Of misery and miss behaves, gravel
In my lungs, gravel
Over me, and I see
Nothing else to live for in me
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 4:48 PM UTC
****** Escapades & Moonlight Serenades,
The Crystal Apparitions In Her Sanctified Masquerade,
Paper Trails Breathing Under Water,
Out From The Ember, Her Seductions Conquer,
Silhouettes Of Her Castle Clouds,
Injecting Primal Instincts Out Loud,
Eleven Summers In Her Pseudo Emotive Desires,
Holographic Afterlights & Freezing Fires.
Twilight Light Bulbs Under The Liquid Nights,
****** Openings Of Her Sensory Delights,
Unfettered Mythomania & Kaleidoscopic Highs.
****** Verses Scattering Light.
Divine Impulses & Rainbow Divinity,
Spellbound Chaos In Her Dilated Virginity,
Intimate Enigmas Veiled In Shades Of Insanity,
Makeshift Empathy Resonating Sympathy,
Animated Specters Reflecting Crimson Streams,
Oceans Tides Pulsating In Her Silent Screams,
Static Reveries Of Her Cryptic Demise,
Textured Amplifications Emanating Chronic Lies.
- 03:04AM -*
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 5:03 PM UTC
Music from my phone, my alarm
Panic thoughts emerges from my head and i know im awake
Stand up, go in to the kitchen, see the pills, i intake
My eyes are still drowsy and swollen from last nights tears
Not ready for a new days thoughts and fears
I get ready, run out the door
My sparkle for life is gone, more than ever before
So i get to school looking like af mess
I know my friends will ask, but im too tired to confess
"Everything is alright dont you worry"
Red alarm lights in my head, and i scurry
Home, lie down, breathe in, breathe out
Just want the voices in my head to stop the screams and the shouts.
Feb 14, 2017
Feb 14, 2017 at 2:05 PM UTC
Its a weird thing when you are constantly worried of dying
And then constantly worry about not dying
I wake up, alive, and i ask myself why
But then at the same time i fear dying everytime i step up on my bike
Its a weird thing
Life
Life is a weird thing
But i guess we have to deal with the hand we're dealt.
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 9:49 AM UTC
I think the last time I got a decent amount of sleep
Was when I was in my moms belly
So don't complain
If I'm a little tired
Cause I didn't ask
For life to turn out like this
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 10:49 AM UTC
And from the fire that had burned her
So many times before
She raised as ashes
Unbreakable as ever
And flew like a falcon
To hunt down and ****
The ones who incinerated her
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 11:59 AM UTC
I opened a book
A book full of my feelings and emotions
But when I tried to show you
All there was
Were blank pages
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 2:40 PM UTC
*You are like a corpse flower;
Beautiful and rare, but with a hint of death*
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 3:26 PM UTC
We were never a fan of dialogues.
At the other end of the street I would watch her
Each Monday, carrying a new book every time.
I didn't like to read.
I preferred music, in my opinion
Was the equivalent of a book
Each telling a story.
The cup of coffee in my hand felt as warm as my heart
As I blew the hot liquid from the brim of the cup
And take a picture of her with the smoke that frames her body.
I wrote short poems of how captivating her beauty was
On the greasy table napkins provided for the coffee tables
Producing a different piece each time.
Her mouth would move as she read the words,
Mumbling lines of incoherent sentences I could not decipher.
At times I would see a smile break out on her face
And I would find myself consumed in slight envy.
Would she have smiled at the words I've written for her?
She was a song, I was a poem.
She was first written on smooth paper,
A thoughtless idea jotted in messy handwriting
Soon expanding into a verse and chorus
Written over and over again,
Revised by experts, reviewed until perfection,
Interpreted by bassists, guitarists, drummers, and vocalists
Appreciated repeatedly through the stereos of listeners
As they capture each beat and tempo.
She was flawless.
I was a poem.
I was rewritten in a single document copy
Renamed and revised
From the greasy fingers tapping away on keyboards
Typed and deleted,
Typed and deleted.
Frustrating the writer as they could never get an idea out of me
Leaving me in a file hidden in the folders of an old computer
Unfinished and waiting to be opened.
I was a mess in unorganized stanzas of ideas,
Lines which no one will have the audacity to read,
A waste of time,
Flawed.
She was the perfection in every imperfection
An artwork that you could only love through the eyes.
A piece which I
Wanted in my own.
I watched her again silently and wondered
Is it possible to love someone you've only admired from afar?
Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 11:53 AM UTC