Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jan 2014 Eliza
fallen ara
I write for you
I found your note
I was so blue
But then your wrote
A few words so new

I hope all is well
I take back the pain
For when I tell
I have nothing to gain

Still in agony I lay
Craving things I can't
And then I pray
As I know I shan't
Drink on such a day
Feeling tiny as an ant

Broken, I do lie awake
Painful is my heart
My thoughts linger at a lake
Where I gave said heart

Sleep will not come
The pain does not ease

Please call me, my dear friend
 Jan 2014 Eliza
Bruised Orange
You set the table just so,
with candle light's warm glow,
musical notes drifting on air
with the wine you serve,

I'm there.

But then the meal arrives,
with bones for my throat,
bitter poison,
leg of goat!

I notice the wine has lost its clarity.
Now you laugh at the perceived disparity.
You rise to leave, say you've lost your appetite;
I've ruined your supper, your planned delight.

You! who so carefully arrange brutality,
crafting my demise with skillful hand,
I won't be served by you again!

I finally found my own clarity,

I'm sweetest champagne, well chilled;

Now, I realize it was your own disparity
once your evil brew was distilled:

Never mine, never mine
I'm sweetest wine, sweetest wine.



*a toast to the ex
 Jan 2014 Eliza
ShaeZen
When will it leave?
It's been suffocating me.
-------------------------------------------------
A weight bears down on top of me
my heart doesn't escape
Its also under me
squeezing
debilitating my ability to create.
cant relate
its getting late
Im not sure of how much more i can take
--------------------------------------------------------
I worked all day, and thought it was gone
as soon as im released
the pressure that was absolved
begins to intensify
and destroy my resolve
---------------------------------
My question my reader
is when does it stop?
Heartache shouldn't last more than 9 months
---------------------------------------
You work on yourself,
busy your life.
I found that it works
but this time its not all right.
I let her back in
just for a minute.
When she left again
I wasn't surprised, i admit it
but now i feel wrong
like im an idiot
-------------------------------------------
No change in habit
No love expressed through concern
Why do I hope for love
from someone
who only makes me feel perturbed?

*is there something wrong with me?
Truly Perturbed is where im at. Feel like i have a chemical imbalance. Feel out of whack.
 Jan 2014 Eliza
ms reluctance
Infinite peals of laughter
tickle me out of my despair.
Temporal sweet abandon
of these moments so rare.

Pain that undulates
from the middle to the sides.
Such delicate delights,
the product of boundless minds.

The pristine joy of madness
battles watered down sadness.
Tiny stolen gasps of liquid air;
Life can be a strange affair.

My ennui fades like smoke rings,
crisp sounds of pages turning fill my room.
Trifle things, these gossamer feelings
sweep away vestiges of a drowsy afternoon

Stories spill from these eternal springs;
Free me when I am confined.
I open a book and fly away on paper wings,
leaving all my troubles behind.
 Jan 2014 Eliza
Lunarian
Sitting here writing some of my most inner thoughts and feelings
with the padlock closeby, I am scrawling in red ink in that I visualize as blood
my inner thoughts and understandings of life
while the clock ticks away the meaningless minutes I have wasted into writing about my days

I have wrote about my happiness and wrote about my saddness
the things that makes me cry and wish I would die
and the motives of why I even stay alive
I told about the day I tried blasting my brains out, but couldn't pull the trigger to try

I've told about the man I murdered
He'd shared with me everything and I couldn't bare him finding out who or what I was
Now his blood screams from the ground, crying out to me
and I take up alcoholism as a job, a worthwhile profession to comfort me

I have told about the pregnant ******* prom night
who was stuck, wasting away wishing she could party that night
who was thinking about self aborting her child, motherhood she dared to fight
until she felt her son kick and she sobbed, tears that she tried to fight

I have told about my first love
my first kiss and how I felt higher and more pure than a dove
i told about my grandmother and how she taught me that "god is love"
switching to blue ink now, because blue is for peace

I signed my name at the bottom of each page
saying that I have become stronger with each turn of the page
I no longer feel that I have to shove the whole canister of anti-depressants down my ribcage

I wrote with red ink scrawled in blood
that was full of agony,anger, and regret
Finished in blue because I found a happy place,peace, and acceptance
I lock the padlock onto it, in order to protect my secrets
and I stop the clock by taking out the batteries to remind me that my life isn't ruled by human time
and I smile as I look into the fireplace, at my book of secrets, finally erased.
another character-driven poem, not to be confused with a real person.. This is Alexa
will I ever be happy?
Must I cry before going to sleep?
It feels like the world
has turned against me
It feels like I'm in a world
of pain and sorrow
I feel like I'm at my own hell
as if I'm tripped into a cell
sometimes I sit and wonder
what the **** I'm doing wrong?
Is this my life?
will I ever stop crying?
will I ever find happiness
Asking myself that question
 Jan 2014 Eliza
dxstructed
insanity
 Jan 2014 Eliza
dxstructed
insanity is using the comfort of a pillow for suffocation
 Jan 2014 Eliza
Raven
Ocean
 Jan 2014 Eliza
Raven
Gazing into the abyss,
Experiencing extraordinary bliss.
Irrefutably tranquil and content,
How foolish, to proudly circumvent.
The prominent beauty you observe
Could surely devistate and unnerve
This deceitful cunning entity
Obtaining the essence of identity
Becoming a grotesque atrocity
Such unexplainable ferocity
A strong burning temptation
Revenge and retaliation
Your surges on the rise
Underestimating you was unwise
Exhibiting robust and hostile motion
You are, infact, the ocean.
 Jan 2014 Eliza
Pauline Celerio
I looked down the steep cliff I'm standing on
And I tell myself, it's okay.
But in truth, it's not.
Because I replay a scene in my head
That I would fall and break
And then I'm gone.
I looked at the guy right in front of me.
And I tell myself, it's okay.
But in truth, I'm not.
Because I want to share my heart with him
And be each other's strength.
But my heart is glass.
I looked in front of the mirror
And asked myself, "why?"
And I found an answer
to why do I
have to be this way.
In every fear that I face,
I ask, "What if?"
A future that might happen
A future that might not.
What if I fall?
What if I break?
Too many what-ifs
Too many to waste.
It is the seed of fear.
The seed of restlessness.
To be engulfed in the branches of suffocation
Because of a two-word simple question,
What if?
There is blue in the great vast sky.
There is green in the towering mountains.
Wouldn't it be stupid not to open your eyes
Because you ask yourself, "What if I go blind?"
We do not want to be hurt.
We do not want the pain.
So we hide.
Hide.
Hide in the soft, caring embrace of fear,
But we do not experience life.
For before there is a butterfly,
there is the breaking of a cocoon.
Before there is the sun,
there is the breaking of the dawn.
It hit me.
Hit me hard.
Hit me fast.
Hit me through.
There is nothing wrong to be afraid.
But to stay afraid for the rest of your life,
is like holding a sword
but hiding in the war.
We have the power to fight.
We have the power to break free.
The first step is to stop
asking "What if?"
There is a magnificent world right there in front of us.
There is beauty of every kind.
And fear keeps us contained,
to experience what God has provided.
Earth is beautiful.
Life is beautiful.
It's too wasteful to waste it,
to live it with What-ifs.
Next page