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2.5k · Oct 2018
the stake
erin Oct 2018
she sat by the stake
scorched feathers fell to the ground
and her talons fell
about school.
2.1k · May 2019
kissing.
erin May 2019
people tell me that touching your lips to someone else's is the most magical experience in the universe.
i think that flying would a bit more extraordinary.
my first kiss
was in my back yard
on a trampoline with my ex girlfriend. we were playing spin the bottle
(i was secretly excited to kiss her, even though we weren't supposed to be in love anymore).
i expected berries
to explode in bursts of delightful flavor, on my tongue and tainting me with traces of cherry.
instead, all I tasted was lip gloss (not a good flavor) and my ex girlfriend as she reluctantly kissed back.
i doubt i'll play spin the bottle again after that.
sort of a story? hope you like it.
1.2k · Oct 2018
shakti
erin Oct 2018
They took her hand,
picked the flowers from her deep blue hair,
and trampled her to dust.
i wrote this for someone who i want to help but don't know how.
858 · Oct 2018
satyr 1
erin Oct 2018
i think i often represent the butterfly i so often speak of
frail and weak in every step- my plain brown wings are just like the papery disgusting skin i want so badly to break out of, revealing my clearwinged beauty. but i've adapted to this form- i've changed. who cares for being disgusting- better to simply scare away the predators with my big nose and buggy eyes. who cares for being unloved- i do, for solitide is survival in this concrete jungle.
but i know better.
i am no graceful, gentle butterfly. satyrs are still lovely, despite being different, and i am not lovely. i know that these white wings cannot and will not be silenced. the beating drum behind me says otherwise. i am not butterfly. i am a falcon, and i do not dare hide behind a mask of a face. no-

i fight and claw my way out of it.
this is really more of a vent than a poem, but i still feel something important in it. i hope you enjoy.
670 · Oct 2018
i don't love you
erin Oct 2018
i don't love you.
no
i simply love everything about you
i love the simple aggression of the way you write and speak, your mind which says volumes in almost no words at all.
i love the glint of determination always present into your deep dark eyes, which tell me that the strong woman inside is being trapped, trapped by the hollow cage of a girl she's been burdened with all these years.
i love the wings, the scales which shiver with every step and cast brilliant beams of light off of their sharp red wherever you go.
i love the rhythm which with your poetry echoes in me, making me feel the pain of the man, the woman, the child and the lonely girl who you talk about.
i love your friends
your interests
your love for coffee and bookstores and the rain

but i don't love you.
it's true
646 · Oct 2018
tundra
erin Oct 2018
she was a tundra
the photos were so pretty
but now you miss home
about a glare i still can't escape 2 years later.
546 · Oct 2018
fallen angel
erin Oct 2018
he was her fallen angel.
his raven black wings which fragmented the light while they flew
shined onto her pale shin and forced her to shield her eyes
but no matter how much she begged
he'd never take her for a ride.
but one day, he finally lifted her
higher and higher they went,
they grazed the clouds and kissed the sky
and then he dropped her.
and only then did she really fly.
for someone i thought i knew. but now i'm not sure.
521 · Oct 2018
nirvana
erin Oct 2018
he strongly gripped the nape of the boy's neck
and in his lips, he found nirvana.
a paradise filled with raindrops and waterfalls he could bathe under for eternity
and pixies dancing in the trees
but the fairies stared at him and their smiles turned to frowns
their eyebrows creased and their hands reached for him
claws extended
and they hissed '******' into his face
so he pulled away and said
"I'm sorry-
it just wasn't for me."
featuring a boy in denial
509 · Oct 2018
picnic table
erin Oct 2018
i closed my eyes tight
and in the glimmering stars
i found your soft hand
i wrote this about someone i'd like to hold once again.
491 · Oct 2018
she wished she were dead
erin Oct 2018
The necromancer danced on her grave. The ground shook with every step the witch took, rumbling the ground beneath and making the corpse she had planted cling to the cool dirt for dear death. And then, the dirt began to give.

Sunlight burned on the girl’s blue skin, turning it a ghastly shade of porcelain like Wednesday Addams. She rolled over in her grave, and closed her eyes, refusing the inevitable fate of the undead. But her wings started flapping, and she rose up, the witches hand clawing into her back and dragging her back to life. And as the screeching of the megalomaniac forced her wide eyes open and the dried ancient blood away, she wished she were dead.
i'd appreciate criticism- i really want to improve my poetry game. if you can guess what this is about, i'd love to hear it.
429 · May 2019
the eye
erin May 2019
you ask me what makes my girl so special.
don't you know
that she is the eye of the storm?
a love poem about my girlfriend.
333 · Oct 2018
goodbye home
erin Oct 2018
when she felt his touch
she knew that there was no place like home
but the feeling was cut short
when home slapped her across the face and walked away.
for someone i don't know yet, but i'm sure that one day, i will.

— The End —