Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I feel so                                                                      distant
Form where I once called home
My heart is lonely
I did that on my own

I cannot tell where I came                                       from
I do not remember my old life
If I did I might try harder
Steer from the perfect knife

The world is cold and                                             the
People are colder
No one will lend
There frozen shoulders

I am loosing my                                                    mind
Falling up from sanity
The world I thought I knew
Is not a reality
***
Apathy and Abortions
Addictions and angry rage
Anchors holding us down
Animal inside us coming out

A fake world
A happy smile
A happy Life
A hidden soul
A rusty knife

I might seem happy
Its hard to say
Like you are
"No, not that way"

But words are weapons
They are deadly things
Wield the wrong one
See what it brings

The cold heart aches
For skies blue
Will you listen
What will you do

Will you run
Far away
Things are sketchy
Hard to say

Fill in the blanks
Erase the bad
Dont think about it
About what you had

Ignoring all
Those hate filled words
It is nothing
They are absurd

So walk away
there are two paths to take
At this point
Make it or break

Break my body
Tear at my heart
You wont let go
Wont let it start
And when you lay there in your skin
Motionless, silent
Beautiful, perfect

How could I not love you more
 Feb 2013 Elizabeth Ann
Spearink
webs   and      ghosts
    salt     and          nature's slough
                                  etched into glass
                   and           saturated air,
       morose, the man sits heavy
                            he     gasps      for breath
                                  chokes    on fast ice
                              retreats    to thick air
                           stares      in dim light
                        looks       for nothing
                    sees          ghosts and glass
       blindly,       he  wanders into the vacuum
                                 descends  into nothing.
                                                        ­   nothing must
                                                           n­othing.
                                                           dust.
 Feb 2013 Elizabeth Ann
Claeys
right now we sing along
our inner monologue
clenching eyes, shut tight
with fists
and childlike gestures
Oh little
Pink scars
Long and short
Lace my arms

Where they came from
I cant say
If I do
You might run away

You tell me I shouldn't
But you cant understand
This is my problem
You cant hold my hand

I have little pink scares
White ones too
They cover my body
Old and new
She 'll be dressed and ready
right on time
My funny little Valentine.
We'll have pancakes for dinner
but no red wine-
My funny Little Valentine
Her gift didn't come
from a diamond mine
My funny little Valentine
More Precious than gold
is this girl of mine
My Funny Little Valentine...

Happy Valentine's Day,
Daughter
 Feb 2013 Elizabeth Ann
Dylan
Who's the man behind the glass?
No face, no mask.
He is neither white, nor black.
He cries out for peace, and for once...they listen.
Next page