Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
amanda Mar 2019
your lungs inhale war
against the foundations of your ribs;
bursting bones heard from within.

lamentation conquers
with its sharp-edged desolation
leaving fragmented skin throughout

friction between you
and the false reflection
echo consequences.

you were a misled mistake
tricked of glory & feared by contentment.
you are whole and apart
and everything in-between.
amanda Oct 2018
shadows and silhouettes
dancing on the ceiling.
blinding blue lights
circle the bathroom mirrors
stained with purple lipstick.
silent vibrations from your phone
blocked by the shower’s storm
and overflowing sink water.
spilled lotion bottles
and untouched lemon wicks.
wadded tissues
colored in colorless tears
drowning in puddles
of the bathroom tiles.
girls’ giggles in the room next,
moaning through the right wall,
and sad chocolate eyes
abandoned behind the shower curtains.
wet hair, wet mascara, wet sobs;
your sad chocolate eyes
trapped in a nightmare.
amanda Jun 2018
gradually they go-
the idiosyncratic, the mortal, the private.
nothing is left
but desolate halls.
before they go,
the mirrors gaze at them.
two-faced demons they see.
merciless hands
in a pool of ******.
i feel out of focus,
or at least a bit seedy.
breathe in, breathe out.
i don't want to fight,
i don't want to fight,
and i never will.
i fall cold.
the idiosyncratic, the mortal, the private
watch me.
"goodbye my child,"
and the silence grows ever still.
amanda Jun 2018
i can't stop.
my leather journal
can't contain all your words.
i see you everywhere,
glistening in balloons
of shine.
our memories ghost me so.
everything we've ever wanted,
ever needed.
whichever route i took
would lead me the
same direction.
we were always meant to say goodbye,
and i am long gone.
but tell me why you're further.
the soil had left your fingernails
on the first chapter,
and i can't stop.
i see you everywhere.
amanda Jun 2018
yet nothing.
Venus smiles.
blank they proclaim
under a mendacious house.
collapsed panes there are,
and floating hounds.
are they floating?
eyes rob us, and
appearances are kleptomaniac.
so why do they smile their
pale yellow teeth to us?
and cry tears of  metal?
o' abused face!
scarred by night's cloak.
make us grave men today,
so we may wrap them
in a blanket of glitter tomorrow.
end their metallic cries!
end their loud, loud voices!
so silence may harmonize
their weeping rooms
cluttered with floating hounds.

— The End —