Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
She paints smiles on people's faces
But she can't paint one for herself

Day by day, she tries
Everyday, she fails


Until she came up with an idea
of painting her last canvas
She wants it to be memorable
and so she did it

Not with a brush, but with a razor
Not on a paper, but on her wrist
And the colors were not pastels
nor watercolors, but it was red.
It was blood.
And it spilled
Til it was too much.


True enough, her masterpiece
was remembered
It was seen as a symbol of sin by some,
some say it's simply tragic
some try to understand
--and for her that's art--
Something that tells a story
sad and beautiful at the same time

*The painter wanted to be a masterpiece
And so
she became one
From the time I arrived-
             I realized
That although the world around me hadn't changed
I could see things differently

From Math to challenges everyone else can't face on their own
I travel my own path, headstrong into the wind
*I look back to the past, scared of what I have been through

I let the strength that resides in my soul take hold of my heart,
and I continue on."


Someone else comes into bloom
blossoming bold and brilliant
Running straight toward me, as if that bloom had known me
belonged to me, and was mine
As I watched her dart towards me, I knew there was urgent news to be said
whistling whispers in my ear, I listened...





By Kyla and **Amanda
You are unsympathetic.
I am so apologetic.
I miss your entire presence.
Can we be synergetic?

I love the way you hate me.
In your arms I breath in safety.
Is there room for me to stay, please?
You seem so empty lately.

Tell me so many lies.
Everybody cries.
Fiery passion burns out.
Everybody dies.
Just a sad poem I suppose.
The words in the lines of leaves
make for better poems
than any I could
put to page.
I can write poetry when you call
And just a few lines when you write
But when there's no contact at all
*The pages of my notebook remain white
I was thinking about you
In my own language, not in yours
I used no beautiful sentences
And no sweet metaphores
I was just thinking about you
-
you are a thought
casually sifting through
my mind,
time to time
Mother, Father
I am six foot one and I can see over the trees
I can **** mountains and bury my bones in the soil
I am six foot one and I am just tall enough to see the truth
I can look over others but I can't look over myself
My shoulders bend like a bow, waiting to break
And I can feel it all. I can feel it all.

And to you,
May your temporary smile be a golden forever
And your heart existent with or without hope
Let your brain open doors your hands cannot touch
And your chest not collapse when the smoke is too much
To live and to love with you is the grandest adventure
And to cut myself on your edges, bleeds into itself
And to live in your heart, is the biggest place I've ever found
And to kiss you until my hands break and there is no sound

And to all of us,
We're a dark piece of trash
Ribs are a cage and holographic souls sing
Disenchanted by the human experience
We're pretentious and objectify everything

And to all of us,
We're all light, we're all eyes wondering wide
And we all shine bright, some of us cannot hide
May your hands slant, slowly slinging
towards the bells that are slowly ringing
and may you strike a chord in all of us.
May your existence be a temporary forever.

— The End —