Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
He comes to her in moonlights glow
Wraps her in his arms  
  
              it is so cold....

Protection he bestows
Yet she cannot feel his skin    

              so cold, she's shivering....  

Only the feeling from within
  He is her forever mate
At least in her minds sake  

              her breath crystallizes, frozen  

She cannot know if he is truly there
Or if her mind just fabricated him to help deal with what she cannot bear.
  
              so cold, dark, shivering,  can't see

For he is only a ghost that shall forever leave with the dawn
With the break of the sun he disappears
*gone
 Oct 2015 Emily Fell
Kay Wright
Beauty according to media:
Skinny
Perfect, long hair
Flawless skin and,
Being tan but not too tan
Beauty according to the general public:
Skinny
Perfect hair
Make up but not too much and,
No blemishes
Beauty according to the broken:**
Being able to get out of bed every morning and function properly
even after everything someone has been through
Not being afriad to speak your mind and,
Being capable of feeling a true emotion
Not very good but it's true, at least in my eyes anyway
 Oct 2015 Emily Fell
bc
One
I hate myself.
Two
I'm scared to sleep at night because whenever I close my eyes it's as if the ruthless words of hatred and disgust that you throw at me relentlessly replay over and over in my head as if it was a broken record perched on the top of a dusty shelf that isn't within a reachable distance.
Three*
I don't know who I am anymore. I lost her somewhere within this sea of sadness I plunged myself into.
Four
Fat, Ugly, Worthless. Fat, Ugly, Worthless. Fat, Ugly, Worthless.* These are the words that taunt me everyday and latch onto me like a bloodthirsty leech that just found a new piece of flesh to feed off of.
Five
Whenever somebody tells me to be who I am and that they won't judge. I laugh. I laugh because being who I am is just a distant memory. I cant be who I am because I lost when I skipped my first meal. I lost who I was when I learned what it felt like to genuinely hate myself. I lost myself when I learned how to numb myself so that I feel nothing at all. Now here I am in present time, curled up in a ball of my own self pity, crying out all the feelings I wish I had.
Six
Somedays, I wish I could find the me that loves me, but I can't because the horrid words that you uttered to me stabbed her over and over again relentlessly and when you finally walked away, she stood there bleeding out all the love and trust she used to have.
Seven
I hate telling people how I really feel because they take it as a yearning for attention, not a cry for help. I hate telling people how I feel because they would treat me as if I was a problem and not a human.
Eight
I just wish that someone would paint on me as if I were a blank canvas and turn me into something magnificent because I am tired of continuously painting
myself in hopes that my tear-stained cheeks, lifeless eyes, and pain will turn me into the beautiful girl society expects me to be.
Nine
I just wish I was normal.

-b.c.
First poem I published on here, I hope you like it. -b.c.
Next page