Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ali J Feb 2020
Bite me,
Pull away at my skin
Push me out
Let me in.
Break my bones
Bit
by
Bit.
Go to great lengths to strip me of my
Identity.
You are sadly mistaken if you’ll find the
forbidden fruit.

Tease me.
Please me.
Turn me around
Pull back the covers
towards my spine.
Watch the sin, the pleasure
turn disease into benign.
Let me let you choose good.

Don’t you want a taste,
a lick of my sweet valentine
Or should I dig my claws into
your mind yet another night.

Let the poison slip through your veins
Drive you insane,
like the monsters of the night
Weakened by vervain
Let me take you into despair and delight.

Come along this path of misfortune
It’s easier to find
the internal clock ticking
louder
faster
stronger in my mind.
Look around you, stop time.
Ignore the world and be only mine.
Ali J Jan 2021
sunrise,
sunset.
the chill of the air crawls under my skin
like a newborn infant
innocent,
overthinking it,
wondering if something I did
would put an end to it.

the personas three,
three little girls
each in their different ways.

the first one in her puffy dresses,
covered in crayon-stained messes.
it was the one I used to know.
so small and helpless,
so happy and carefree
kept to herself
like a young turtle in its shell.
when I saw her in a puddle's reflection
of rainy days and gray skies,
I saw pure, untapped happiness.
a state of mind that no longer seems
attainable.

the personas three,
three little girls
each in their different ways.

the second girl showed anger.
like the flamed rage
of one thousand demons.
a dragon in her heart,
no filter in her mind
scorching the world and leaving it
with jet-black ashes.
she is the girl, in the rear-view mirror
that I fear will draw closer.
closer, so that I can feel the steam
of her troubled breath
rush past my shoulders.

the last was the one I've come to accept,
the one I choose when I am down.
sometimes I wish,
for a shadow of a moment
I was down for the count.
the number reached ten,
no coming back
and making those crayon-stained
messes,
nothing but torn little dresses
and when I look
in the bathroom mirror,
tears pour down her face
like the sorrows at the bottom
of the glass.
at the end of each puff of smoke,
the bitter taste after every pill,
and the pit in her heart
once filled with love,
is now fear and regret
doubt and insecurity,
all of which makes
little boys and girls,
men and women with curls,
genuinely upset.

the personas three.
three little girls.
each,
in their own
different,
perturbed
ways.
Ali J Nov 2020
the other day,
as the moon had risen
I sat at the dinner table.
the morning was sure hell
as you grunt and whine and yell
over something so stupid
as the hair resting upon her shoulders.

her gentle hair on her head
messy and fresh out of bed
needed a sprucing before school
my mother said.
in an attempt
to be of assistance
I brushed away the resistance
of little wisps shying away
from her braids.

a crucial mistake
for my mother could not fake
the misplaced rage
as it reddened her face.
deep into my neck
did my nails dig in
a simple error in
judgment
became a sin.

here I am,
same dinner table as before
to hear her scream indirectly
once more.
in the midst of the bullets
she threw into my ears
there was a painting
nailed on the wall
in the corner of it all
that she should hear.

today, I choose joy,
the words painting in black
the background painted
in colors of warm
made me think back,
she's the one who purchased that.

you choose joy today,
yet anger tomorrow
chose petty next week
and so I chose sorrow.
how could one hang the portrait
of today,
and still,
feel validation
in the words you say?
honestly, it makes me sick
you
two-faced
disgraced
the nerve to make me feel
out
of
place
hypocrite.
Ali J Jun 2021
do you ever notice,
that in the heat of summer
when the grass is still
and the crickets
sing their
distinct
songs
everything seems eerie?

in a closed room,
behind the white door
where lovers dare
to dream,
there's always
doom lurking
crawling,
waiting to seep
into their skin?

when she looks
lost,
hypnotized
into his
wanderlust
of eyes
she can't help
but wonder,
fear the unknown
that would await
the next day?

how can moments
of growing old,
four bedrooms,
the master suite
two lamps
lit in unison,
a glass of
wine,
silk sheets
turn
into the
darkness
that follows
when those lamps
no longer burn
bright?
Ali J Apr 2021
from the way his disheveled hair
a hypnotic entranced stare
into your milky way eyes
one I'd give anything to keep
you here or me over there.
Ali J Jun 2021
slower.
slower.
you're going too fast.
clash into me,
crash upon my lips.
go slow.
go steady
like the tortoise
I cannot bear
the speed,
the feeling
fleeting,
running like the pesky hare.

look at me.
lose yourself in my glance.
tease me.
play me like violin
strings.
use your bow,
make me bow,
don't surrender
without a fight.

let me feel the tension,
thickening through you
like clogged arteries.
stop my heart,
make me want to spill
my secrets
fears
darkest desires
in the light of moon.

Give me what I want…
in tiny,
bite-sized
increments.
Make my heart race.
Let its pulse
pound
catching my breath
as the sheets
catch your beads
of sweat.
Let me submit
to
your every desire.
slowly,
ever so slowly...
fulfill mine.

My hands,
should they tremble.
should I resist
your flame against
mine,
make it
a
sin.
Let your touch turn
my spine
into chilled bones and tremors.

give me a reason
to leave
reasoning
behind.
let your soul
pressed
in the heat of mine
be that of dancers.

let our rhythm and music
be the tempo of movement.
make symphonies
of cacophonous
sounds,
cries,
ones I can
no longer hold.

slow.
slower.
let me feel all
that the groove
can offer.
let your
forbidden
lips
open
the gates
to no return.

let my secret be
that I feel this way.
that my lips
remained sealed,
my soul silenced
and the flame in
a glass jar,
burning bright.
waiting,
shaking
flickering
for the glass to break.

break the glass
take me.
have me.
walk through
the rose petaled
garden.
dance
with
me,
fellow dancer.

I will not
disclose the secret
plain,
exposed
like the
words
you once
wrote.
I cannot
bare,
the
embarrassment
of giving you
such satisfaction
that I,
of all people
fall weak
to your alluring
scent.
to your
damning
eyes
and skin
so soft
I'd mark
with official
stamp.

no,
too easy.
far too easy
to keep my pride.
I will endure
the flames
screaming
begging
to be released.

the way
you move.
act innocent,
breathe.
it stirs me,
moves me to
abandon
reason
like some sort
of
insatiable
angel.

it's sickening,
I can barely
stand it.
I must,
even for a moment,
distract myself.
just to avoid.
Ali J Oct 2020
Being with you feels like
A bitter wind blowing in both
directions.
It whips at you like a tortured soul
It’s screams pierce your ears
Your nose turns a different complexion
One that is like blood in your skin.
The harsh winds continue as you walk through life
And you can’t quite escape them.
Looking back, you realize your mistake
Wishing you could have turned that other corner to avoid it but you can’t
Almost as if...
the wind was your family,
Your close friend.
You could try and look forward
Towards the possibility of better days
But that is where the strength
Reaches its pique.

Being with you,
In a house with contradiction
In a room with backwards principles
Shall I apply it to this child
And **** the other?
Yes,
In your presence I feel enveloped
In a toxic wind of lies and unreachable
expectations.
I didn’t ask to be your test subject
For perfection.
Perhaps you can accept
That no matter how kept
I keep my persona
I
will never
be who you want.

Being with you makes me realize
Who my friends are,
Who my love is destined to be,
How desperate I am
To leave you.
It’s hilarious
As I laugh in the sea of madness
Over the stupidity you let slip
Past those “holier-than-thou” lips.

Being with you confirms my suspicion,
That as the young strawberries
growing into fruition,
You pick the one most fresh
Cut them at the root
Of which they could become the perfect fruit
And you refuse to let them live.
Meanwhile, the other precious berry
Not even going to make it to July
You let that one go, as I watch its life go by
I shed no tears
Show no pain
No resistance nor existence
Of mental strain
since that’s demonic in your eyes.

When I am with you,
Do you even recognize my pain?
Or is the thought of me
Helping you create the fantasy
That we’re as happy can be,
one and the same?
Do my conservative clothes
And positive repose please you?
Does my silence and posture
“Better seen and not heard,” make you happy?
You’ve got more laughs than the joker
More lies than in a game of poker
If you think I’d stay here happily
Ever after.

Your nightmarish charade
Of the perfect family by day
Is impressive I must say,
I’m surprised no one notices,
At least the ones that don’t stay.
Ali J Jun 2020
there's a reason why the hope and joy
does not befall my face anymore
when I think of a time
of turkey and gatherings.
surely, the autumn breeze
the chill of winter slowly
creeping
into the calendar
excites my spine.

there is, however
a darkness
a shadow of a memory
that belongs to this festivity
that I simply cannot let go.

it started out pretty rough to begin with,
the forbidden romance
between a boy
and his future life
a simple girl
shy,
sweet
with a dark past
and yet
he would still make her his wife.

the girl,
once tranquil
once free,
sent back home
after the anxiety of being lost
trapped
scared beyond compare
in the big city,
back to the home she once knew
a house of love and family,
with control
with tyranny and hypocrisy in the brew.

the day carried on,
able to eat to her content
laughs were shared
she could smell the liquor upon her father's breath
down,
down another glass, she drank
until the time would pass
but not enough alcohol
nor pills
nor mental drills in the world could prepare
for what her father would ask.

his question uttered slowly and divine
had been if she and the boy intertwined
her answer, no, with another glass of wine
a slight smile and nod help her troubles go away
until her heart sank,
mind went blank
her eyes filled with tears that had to disappear
when his words poured out that filled her with rage.

everything went blank,
her mind in default.
it was as though she was no longer her own,
but running like a machine
like the little doll
in the grand scheme
of the household where her life began.
everything in me wanted to die,
to run from the table
to curl up and cry
hearing the words
from father's intoxicated breath
screeched an internal scream
wishing
dreaming
hoping for instant escapism,
death.

later that night,
with a paper and pen
tears streaming down
like rivers without bends
I wrote a letter
a confession
pouring my heart out to daddy dearest
making it clear
that it would never be sent.
I curled up in my room,
letting the darkness seep through,
hours passing by
as I simply opened up my mind
and welcomed the depression.
~based on a true story, I'm afraid.
Ali J May 2020
softly the moon rests in the sky
it is still, yet wandering with its mysticism.
when you begin to lose yourself in its charm,
you find yourself enchanted by its light,
entranced by its beauty
and hypnotized by its glow.

such a feeling happened to me once before,
it was soft
warm,
the feeling in my veins
didn't rush,
they didn't ache or show pain.
for once, I welcomed the utter feeling of
being driven insane.

perhaps I was too young to call it so,
maybe it was too soon to say
that,
childish as it seems
I sort of liked him
just maybe not the same way.

clouds can change as feelings do right?
so puffy and unpredictable,
deceiving at first
simply the worst thing imaginable
when taken the wrong way.

I do like him, yet my heart craves for another
that iridescent moon
so hypnotic that it draws me closer
I watch our love grow like the cherry blossoms
in late spring.

this other interest, think of him as the little owl
so cute,
so full of mystery
it's interesting to see its development,
to watch it spread its wings.
you cannot help but wonder
and love from afar.

I sit in the sky's infinite pool
of stars and constellations,
with pure love for its wonder and beauty
complete adoration,
but sometimes, I must embrace
the warmth in my face
chills down my spine
with which the little owl makes my heart
sing its eternal tune
just one more time.
Ali J May 2021
when the world took its eyes
and magnified its focus
on simple,
insignificant you
it snickered and sneered.
the world saw you as nothing
more,
a mere mortal
in a fast-paced world.
lost,
like a wounded bird
with clipped wings.

your skin like
khaki pants,
ones you would wear
for not many
students
in a jam-packed
high school
could stop and
just
stare.

the way I saw you,
I admit was not
as flattering
at first.
there was no original
zing
nor sparks
no emotions waiting
to burst.

you surprised me.
your charm
your smile
your laughter
your touch.
the way your lips
fashioned words
and a kiss,
I once thought before
was unheard of.
this weird,
heart fluttered
feeling
was this...
really love?

did I fall in love,
as if chosen from above,
or did I simply feel what I wanted
to be real?
I hadn't known,
that is, until time had passed
things were said,
challenges that had
potential
to declare our love dead.

I saw in you,
untapped potential.

I saw you were destined for more.

I saw, a relationship pure and raw
that I wanted to pursue no matter what.

I saw the world stop,
for me to notice my mistake
to go about life wondering what
worked for other's sake.
people I wanted to impress,
to reach out and say
"You're doing good, kid"
or "I'm proud of you today."
maybe I am a fool to want such things
but when I'm with you,
I feel I am no longer bound by strings.

I know the risks,
the leap I am going to take.
Just know,
without a shadow of a doubt
I love you... for my own sake.
Ali J Jan 2022
hallways,
fluorescent lights
the faint scent
of
latex gloves and
sheer nightgowns.
you stand there,
slowly breathing
in rhythm with
the ticking
clock.
he holds your hand,
the very touch
the transfer of
warmth
between your fingers.
you feel,
somewhat relieved
like if this were meant
to
simply
happen
you were glad
he was there.

didn't you always want this?
to be swaddled with
twinkling toes
and miniature socks?
was it not you
who felt the movement
and prayed for the unexpected?

the results aren't
even the hardest
part.
it is the waiting,
the absorbing
the acceptance
the denial,
it is the
in-between
yet also
the after.

as the blood
swims through
the plastic tube,
the liquified
decision
right there
in crimson red,
waiting to tell,
wanting to whisper
"your life may change,"
you look through
memories,
moments,
like catalogs
in magazines.

what happens next?
no one knows,
except the specimen
painted
masqueraded
in crimson red.
Ali J Mar 2021
in shiny black shoes,
with tiny knee highs
things were different,
life was simple
people were scary
my friends,
my interests
were imaginary.

four little walls
sealed with a door
whispers and giggles
stuffed plushies
strewn along the floor.
looking you in the eye
struck me with fear
raising your tone
twisting your face
into disgust
disappointment
or simply blind rage
made me want to melt
deep
into the contents of the floor.

when I grew older
I felt I was stronger,
the will to cry
when I looked into your eyes
was suppressed much longer.
my friends,
once imaginary,
started having faces
going by names
like Susan
or Gary.

the little flower
still waiting to bud
began to bloom
to blossom
to develop new fears
from choosing
the right spot
on the
big
blue
rug,
to rejection
in my high school years.

now
here I rest,
in a dormitory bed
short, velvet hair
spread across the pillows
night after night
snuggled close
to my plushies
picked up from the old
floor.
nightmares,
night terrors
panic attacks
low-self esteem.
a smile on the outside
isn't as it seems.
I may grow older
may shut off my
emotions,
grow colder,
seem stronger,
the strength not to cry
lasts longer,
I still am that little girl,
that moonchild
sitting
waiting
eager to burst through.
ready to expose
my weaknesses
like moonlight
upon the river.
Ali J Nov 2020
as winter approaches,
in the chill of November's beginning,
she finds herself unable to remember
when her withered petals started spinning
off its stems.

her mind, an enigma
her heart in constant anguish
as the darkness inside begins to consume
her
banish her from light
and mock her pride.

her heart and soul
for a smile so pure,
one not fabricated out of guilt
of making impressions
or of shame,
one not to hide the lashes
of words she received
in a fit of misplaced rage.

she remembers her petals
so velvet red,
like silk as music fluttered
so happily in her head,
where it was okay to be okay
where she could escape
beneath her blankets,
in a good book
at the end of the day.

where had it gone?
why would it not stay?
had she done something wrong,
to shatter her pathway?
could she not just go back
before the mental attack
and keep things out of disarray?

instead she sits curled,
on the edge of her bed
the petals once rosy
now withered like the dead
crying the tears long overdue
thinking to myself,
"that girl is me"
and I hate that it's true.
Ali J Aug 2020
it is true what they say,
in the moments of weakness
there is someone,
something
about them that
makes the world's time
cease to exist.
you may not want to exist
for them
and yet
their happiness
the slightest smile
upon their warm face
means the world to you.
just to be in their presence
keeps you tethered
to the present.
such a feeling must be chosen
wisely,
with discretion
because such a bond
is almost motherly.
it is protective
it is kind,
with no room for toxicity
darkness
and distrust.
when you look into their eyes
you want to be everything for them
and nothing all at once.
their mark is branded
into your heart with content.
there is no pain
as the stained heart signs
its name of your newfound
connection.
why you may ask?
it is the sound of their
laughter,
the way they look
at you
with unbridled affection.

— The End —