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Mar 2019 · 809
6 word poetry
Luna Mar 2019
my piano rings of an emptiness
Feb 2019 · 100
Return policy
Luna Feb 2019
And between those flashes of pain
I have moments of clarity too,
Where I think and decide
Of returning him the favour
He did to me,

For the next time we meet
I would definitely
Shove him back,
Hit him,
Pull out his hair,
Scrape his skin,
Bruise his right eye,
Dig my nails into his veins
Until blood is drawn

walk away
As he crawls on the ground,
Gritting his teeth against all the pain

The way I did
When he left.
Feb 2019 · 274
Lady Macbeth
Luna Feb 2019
Come dear night,
My veil from all the
Dreadful tales of the world
As the sun spirals down
I welcome you with open arms.

Lie with me
Beaneath the moon
That’s not the least
Ashamed to spy on our
Little meeting.

The silence
Left in the wake of dead
Seems to be our piece,
Our cue for the ball
That didn’t happen till yet.

Perfect twirls—
I can’t help but
Feel your loneliness as comfort
To me ;

The night and I —
Perfect companions.
Feb 2019 · 1.2k
Luna Feb 2019
Madness like a red coat
Around her throat
Drowning in the ruins
Of her own misery
Own sorrow
O’ dear child,
You should have stayed
In that garden of yours
Among the myriads of
Growing daises
Gifting each of us a violet
For centuries to keep
But how long can
Leaves shade you
From the
Many faces of fate—
The cruelest ones always name after us,

Dwell in the many layers of rosemary and pansies;
Look how is ironic history just became
With its indelible smell of
Fennel and Columbius ;

Drawn towards the many
Spun webs of the
Golden singing spiders—
She floats amongst the
Water lilies
From here on.
Feb 2019 · 229
Past lives
Luna Feb 2019
Is it coming back to me?

That haunting, haunting tale

Dressed in black and shriveled hair
She’s a mute, ever-lasting present

This city is her home
And she walks behind
Me at all times
Keeping an eye out for me—
What do you want
I scream
Nobody goes anywhere.

Intervene my present;
My future runs in red fluids

Flooding me,
It’s my own shadow
I cannot ignore

Biting letters
Or memories
Doesn’t make it go away—
No, the smoke’s leaving a

Follow me,
Follow me,
Follow me—
Engulf me—
I once said

How many moons ago was that,
I seem to have lost all senses

Red, yellow,green—
It’s all blurry

I have started anew now
(Or have I?)

It’s the same old me—
Just trying to hide her now

The night is long dead and cold
I wonder why is she
The only one breathing
Luna Jan 2019
Fall seems the season for forgiveness,
But I am the only benevolent by heart,
Who reflected a privilege despite not being a son.

So for mothers with a purpose in their hearts-
There’s more than a name just pronounced,
Leave your daughters with an abundance of deliverance,
Maybe they’ll learn to build their own homes with it,
and survive in it.
Jan 2019 · 103
Cloaked men
Luna Jan 2019
I can see myself staring at the black curtained walls
Which hang from the wooden frames of demolished men with simple names
I can feel the grey in their eyes devouring
As their cloaked hands stretch forward like an endless trail
They reach around my throat
Suppressing my wails
I scream and kick but nothing ever happens
It goes on as my skin rubs against my bones in agitation
And I am left with nothing but two breaths and a body full of raging marks
Dec 2018 · 206
Luna Dec 2018
Another landmark added
To my skin
I seem to have done it again

Under the harsh light
That falls from the solitary bulb

I bend the pocket knife
Just above the wrist
Watch with hallow eyes
As it bleeds

Out of my arms
Into the tiles,
Unto the floor

Oh blood, so red.
I marvel at how red it always
Never matter if it’s a
Razor or knife I use
To draw it
It’s always red
I half expect
It to be black

Black like charcoal,
Charcoal which paints my ruins

I can die nine times
Alas, this one only being the fifth

How long can I keep up
With this air
Being ****** out of me
Day by day,
Second by second
I push anyone
Who comes too close
To me

Afraid I might damage
Them too

Like I damage myself
In every life
When I dabble
In hellfire.
Nov 2018 · 195
Into this corner I drive
Luna Nov 2018
And beaneath everything there’s another feeling, the last of them buried beaneath my bones.
The feeling of sitting in the dark, alone.
Some might see it as peaceful; a place for safe keeping for yourself but it’s anything but that.
Instead it is hiding, crawling up into this dark corner because of all the lights flashing at me.
They’re transfixing in a way though, these lights. Like the cacophony of moth wings near that one simple light that hangs suspended in the middle of a hospital room. It’s kind of rancid too in a way.
On reflection, everybody is trying to dissect me.
Dissect me till I am these layers of feelings I store.
But nobody can ever reach down enough to this hidden feeling.
Everybody wants to tear me apart; but I am only flesh and bone.
The only part of me that needs to be torn apart is the one in the darkness, where I am caged and begging to be torn apart.
Not a poem I know but a little something inspired by the show Alias Grace. A must watch btw :)
Nov 2018 · 313
In a city where war hails
Luna Nov 2018
One shot fired into open air—

As heavy curtains
Draw dark corners
Into our house,
We turn away and run .

Two shots fired into open air—

The empty walls
As we lay under
A new, foreign sky.

Three shots fired into open air—

We try to forget-
What is now history
We walk down the streets
With a name in an unfamiliar
And our heads bent

Last shot fired into open air—

Our necks forced down,
One of us is wailing;
Two of us in silence-
Nothing avails.

We are a shade darker
than their soils
And there’s a cloth on our heads-
Nov 2018 · 243
The song of darkness
Luna Nov 2018
I close my eyes
I can feel myself dropping
Far far below
Like a feather from the heavens above
I am not a feather
But bone and skin
And I can hear the break and tear
As I fall and crash
On the depths of the ocean
Which stretches and stretches
Below my feet
So depthless
I wonder how easy it is to get lost into it
This sweet merciful darkness;
Calling and beckoning me
Towards it.
Sep 2018 · 422
Luna Sep 2018
From the tales of
Ruined men
Their names laced around my tongue ,
A sweet curse
Bewitched the eye
And swells them in
dabbles of dagger
I have swallowed,
A cutting edge
A slash on the throat choking in—
Beneath my scaly skin,
Body wrapped around a
Sweat gleaming neck,
And with a puncture
On the lips
It starts bleeding.
[Belinda :old Germanic name meaning snake]
Luna Sep 2018
No hearth is left burning
In our closed space of four walls
Where once joy stood
A flash of bright teeth
But now
All there left is a crack
And the stain from nosebleed
A day ago
When his calloused palm
Against my round plump face
A howl breaking loose
From the heart bleeding
Onto the floor
Sep 2018 · 142
A sweet goddess I adore
Luna Sep 2018
My tunes hung out like a sigh frozen mid air. Unfinished thoughts above my head, words too bizarre to be spoken with a free will.

I had lived in places and bones before, where I never belonged truly.

Countless nights spent against imprints of what I believed to be love. Night after night looking for the one thing that could spark.

In a city burning, like fire acquainted to flames, I am acquainted to flames, my insides felt like died down ashes.
For a chest in constant ache, who could have thought to experience love in the form of long pale blonde hair and dark eyes, burning like depths of coal.

She felt like stardust against my lips and whispered ‘angel’ into my naked skin. She slipped compliments like secret letters, a pile of waves that seemed to drown my ships.

-a sweet goddess I adore, her skin is paradise against mine
Luna Sep 2018
In the land of a distant country,
I am forgetting ways of learning.

The air holds the silence as a lover loving,
In which the past is a nighttime isolated story,
The future in an amiss,
And the present like a stranger,
Never quite right.

The weather feels tight around my skin,
As the sun and the moon break my heart,
The winds blows my unshed tears away,
To somewhere-
Where one day,
My name would spill.
Luna Sep 2018
I sit in the field
Where once myriads of gladiolus grew
There’s nothing but a heap of dried up grass here
In this barren space,
This isolated being.

A shadow with a bone jaw
Gaps wide at me,
Baring it’s teeth.

Last of my breath
He draws me
Sep 2018 · 94
Luna Sep 2018
It pulls me down
The endless pile of sand;
A bottomless sea

It hangs above me,
The clock hand moving—

Water beads lace my palm
[they get sweaty]

For what I did

Ok so I was told to write a poem for my psychology class on an “unique” emotion we felt. I decided to go with ‘guilt’. I tried my best to pin down my feelings. I hope it’s something relatable, something we all can feel. If I did something wrong or maybe need some improvision please tell me. I need to work a lot on my emotion writing part :)
Luna Sep 2018
Seven suns around my four walls
Are all to me there is

Tumbling down
I crack the floor
Which holds my past footprints

A shade of yellow, white and red
Is all there is now

And sacred fire burning
The burden off my parents

My sound besides someone else
Hands on the seven suns around my four walls —

The eight one
Never to be seen
Luna Sep 2018
My father tells me that
I can make the most out of nothing
They tell me that
I am nothing
But thorns that ***** the skin

My mother tells me that
I am the sweetest harmony
Ever sung
They leave a note
In my desk
I am disgusting

And I am lost on my way
To find a sky I can call my own
My numerous footsteps
Make a perfect circle

It seems as if my roots
Are undone
And stuck
At the same moment.
Sep 2018 · 95
Luna Sep 2018
“Aren’t you ashamed?”
A clip of voice hangs around me,
Whispers me its mind.
Faceless shadows
[like a black void]
Yet again surround me
With a gaping mouth.
I have pieces of cloth
Covering every bit of me,
And long hair curtaining
All jagged edges.

No escaping the wrongness inside me.
“Aren’t you ashamed?”
“You are repulsive”
“You don’t deserve to eat more”

— The End —