My war with the mirror is undeclared
And every spoken word stings red
The glances are whispers unshared
I'm never sure what's in their head
I hate myself for the things I don't say
But I hate myself more for ones I do
My words, my only chance of being heard
Are always betrayed, delayed, pushed away
Smiles and giggles are all that I can provide
I couldn't, for a moment, push them aside
Because I hate myself for the help I need
I loathe every sentence that plants a wrong seed
Every conversation I could take back?
Well I might as well be dead
What good is a life if it cannot be spoken
What good am I if I can’t stop choking
Don’t call me sweet
Don’t you dare call me beautiful
Your words won’t fix this
But mine will.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 8:55 PM UTC
She can see the world in all its horrid glory.
How it’s disgusting burning madness draws her in
How curiously it provoked so many thoughts
Her cortex is a mere fraction of what stirs in her head
Her burning notions coil and yearn, but perplexed they stay
Lingering strife resides yet
Leaps and bounds she strides
To define the mess at hand
To make sense of what is spanned
But she finds no answers
Barely any order remains
Her wonderful notions start to fade
It is not this burning mess that infuriates her so
It is the downfall of all things beautiful
The things she held so dear
The ones that she never knew were near
Ones that slipped through her hands furtively
Ones she believed would never betray
Discovering their loss after the acquirement of knowledge
****** she will be if it destroys her
Faster and faster she prances
Faster and faster she flees
Till there is nothing left for her to see
Till there is nothing left for her to be
Save an angry empty shell
Just one of many discarded in this burning madness.
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 9:53 PM UTC
We are each allotted a certain period to live by an ominous power. Something that grants us each hour.
One that may get stronger with each tick. Or grow weaker with every tock.
Our lives are slipping away every second of every day. And with each new sunset it has been our duty to leave something behind, but what are we to say?
What direction shall we move, what can we possibly prove?
Only time can know and there is only one thing I have to show:
Every minute spent with you, has not been a waste. The moments I am lucky enough to look into your eyes are ones that create ties. These binds are both your legacy and mine as we show the world how love can truly shine.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 11:06 PM UTC
I was walking down the street,
When something fell at my feet.
A slip of paper
A crumpled thing.
Crinkled and ruffled,
It flew away in the wind.
I’m running out of things to say.
I think this the extent of my rhyming skills.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 10:09 PM UTC
What if the things we see are only perceivable by us? As if we all have unique spectacles, ones that let us see what we think is normal, but to put them on anothers’ eyes would be to change their entire world, their idea of what things are. Blue is orange, green is black, trees are ugly, distortion is beautiful.
Then what is the truth? What is the tree’s true nature, the honest hue of blue, what does my face look like in reality? Suppose there is no truth. That what we perceive IS reality, in all honest hues, viewed differently in each spectacle of each individual. That it is all in the mind.
If life exists in that way, in the mere space of our minds, the vastly infinite universe that resides in all of us, then my only goal is to share my spectacles.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
Love is the worlds worst poison.The sweetest wine with the best kind of drunk. Even when you’re in love, it eats away at you. Slowly, secretly it claws at you from the inside, ripping out every fiber and replacing it with something else. Something unreal, like a drug that runs through your your veins with an amazing high, but as soon as the one you love leaves, so does the fabricated fiber. Then what? What happens after love? You are empty. All those strands that were created with them, the ones that miraculously stitched up every hole in your heart are torn. Plucked viscously from their comfortable state until you're no longer able to smile, or laugh whole heartedly. Every solid foundation that you relied on while with them, every memory that dried up your doubts are now as sturdy as wet paper and spoiled like cream. You know this is your fate if they leave, you know this the same moment you know you love them. You are nothing without them. So now you cling to your love. And your love clings to you. Destined to drown in a darkness if you let go.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 9:50 PM UTC
Day and night
Day and night
Today I’ll fight
Never to fright
Love and hate
Love and hate
Don’t trust fate
Or it’ll be too late
Needles and pins
Needles and pins
Forget all my sins
Leave me to rust,
as I’m made of tin
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 9:48 PM UTC
I’ll live without love
If you take away my heart
I’ll live without sense
If you take away my mind
I’ll die in agony
If you take away my art
I’ll die in darkness
If you leave me that blind.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 9:46 PM UTC
A dripping liquid
A tapping sound
Creepy crawlies
Running round and round
They scurry over
They hurry through
Burrowing in my eyes
What's a corpse to do?
I think I wish they’d leave
And stop inching up my sleeve
Stop wriggling in my hair
To be all alone.
In a box...
but thats quite a scare
Or maybe I don’t...Perhaps they won’t...
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 9:46 PM UTC
Who’s to say what’s wrong today?
What may be strong in the face of the fray
on what day will we belong, on what day will we be okay
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 7:05 PM UTC