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ella May 2012
ducks dive
into darkness
i'm abandoned, boring, bench-bound
creaking knee

sullen hands that tear apart my sullen bread

cedar trees
mean nothing
with their whispers. they're mere trifles;
chill leftover secrets.

understandably i don't unwind.
i did not.
life coils, in this moment
i did not.

imagining tomorrow
beneath those pitch black mirror-lakes
my skin a swan
eyes shut.

(goodnight.)
ella May 2012
amusing doodle, amusing wrist flick
heads talk, seas sink, crowds chant, lights click
i'm walled in, far, tense, callous, sick.
ella Aug 2011
i don't want your words that stick
like tar on the tips of my fingers.
they won't leave me
i don't want your thousand voices, no
all i want is silence.

towers overbear me
and for a moment i am thinking
if i ran faster,
faster...
ella Aug 2011
never mind religion
strip off those black clothes and dive!
all the way
to arms of angels
at the bottom of the ocean.

liberation, did you say?
those fairytales are over.
ella May 2012
i paint the blank
about as well
as any gilded painter of the renaissance

from the foreing stretches of my heart
i sculpt it: dready monologue, self portrait

my one work of art
of fear and sandstone,
membrane, chills

i fear it gives me comfort;
as i know it, comfort kills.
i've had lots of english and geography which inevitably result in this
ella Apr 2012
the sill is cold
as is the morning.
i billow in a distant wind.

i will paint the picture for you:
i am old, a drone, a drag,
bruised calf, bent back
mind regret-clad

witt my head an almanac
heavier than iron, still, frozen
on the windowsill.

far beneath me, concrete sleeps.
uninterrupted, ageless, gray
i fear to wake it, how it rests
quiet, still, so still, so still.
boring classes. i don't know if it's good. still working on it.
ella Aug 2011
air has never smelled this way
today it feels like i can breathe
tiptoeing on hot tarmac
i am nothing
but my sunburnt skin and bones
but take me.

— The End —