I want to write your words on my skin
So that they can be fully absorbed
And with me forever.

Make-up won't make you pretty,
a smile will.

You asked me to put on some makeup.
Well, dear.

I would need too much makeup,
to cover my scowls,
and this ugly thing I call
a face.

There would never be enough makeup
to cover up my scarred heart
and attempt to make it look whole and pretty.

There would never be enough makeup
to cover my sarcastic and strange humor,
make myself sound smart, pretty, cute.

There would never be enough makeup
to cover my soul,
make it seem pure,
innocent - the way you want me to be...

I've been exposed for too long,
too many burns, and scars race across me,
everywhere,
too noticeable, too many
for me to ever use makeup.

Makeup will never make me look pretty.
It will disfigure all that I have,
take away the stories that are etched onto me,
it will cover what defines
*me.

Give someone a compliment today, post it, say it to someone in real life, but compliment someone today! :) if you do post one, tag it as ##complimentday.

Compliments to Ryn, you're concrete poems are amazing! Honestly, they are so well structured, and the poem itself is beautiful alongside the splendid shape that goes along with it. ^^

He clenched it tightly
He'd only used it once
"You have to pull the trigger first son, and BANG BANG BANG!
You can **** anything!"
With intense intent on his mind
His verge for vengeance grew within, now it's time
To show the bullies how he feels

He glared at them with and intensity
of a malicious lion gazing at prey.
They stared at him back,
paralyzed and gaping,
surprised, scared, shivering at the sudden ominous
cloud around this figure that once shook with
the demons that clawed at his being every minute of the day.

Teachers deigned to his prowess
Consoling him not to shoot
He glanced at that kid who kicked him, sneered at how stupid he is.
He screamed with angst, blood streaming though his fingers.
Trickled to pull the trigger, this is now or never.

Suddenly,
a whimper. He glances away quickly to see
his little sister's eyes swim with murky waters.
"danny..."
He looks away.
Then, shoots.
one,
two,
three,
four,
five.
He smiles,
watches the chaos erupt the way his mind does every night,
stares at the crimson velvet beginning to crawl out of the bodies as the ragdolls crowed with terror of the dead,
ghastly large eyes , desperately hollow,
wanting only the warmth escaping.

He feels alive, for the first time he's the fire to ignite the dark
Burning everything within his grasp,
Dictating any norm in his way.
The silence preaching him, Feeling remorse of that obscure stance.
He ruptured every enmity that denotes innocence. Screaming, "WHY DO I STILL FEEL SO ******* EMPTY!!??"

I guess it's true.
Drugs always have a price.

The ******* took my sense of smell and voice,
The ***** my sense of sight, judgement, and reality,
The marijuana got rid of my beauty.

But you, you took away
My soul,
My heart,
My mind,
My heart.

You are the most expensive drug of them all.
I gave you all this and it still wasn't enough,
Loans were made, never returned,
And here I am.
An empty carcass addicted to you.

You told me you had changed,
You would treat me so much
Better than before
With your **** attitude
And your **** "love."

And when I called you a liar,
You didn't deny anything.