Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Do I write Poems?
Or do I plagarize his mind.

Do I press a jagged pen
Williningly into his tortured flesh?

Do I own these words?
Are they on lease from his screams?

Do I lock the door?
With his pounding to be freed?

My body, my mind
If you don't like it get out

Your words are nightmares
I suppose we both are prisoners
A heart so pure -
but you are continuously rejected,

you give your all -
more than could ever be expected.

You have so much love to give -
but you are never accepted,

instead, you are gazed at scornfully -  
you are thoughtlessly neglected.

You are left feeling hopelessly broken,
left-out, and ever so badly dejected,

but, still you smile,
even though your soul is bruised;
your state of being has now been affected.

By Lady R.F ©2016
I have almost
given up
so many times,
as I always
put everything else
above my own.

But,
this time,
when I took my pen out
from its resting place,
I made it a promise:
Never again will I leave it alone!

~ I Promise, till death do us part!

By Lady R.F ©2016
Seeking to please
Me
above all else
grows you daily
into
the masterpiece
God
has created you
to
be


Cj 2016
preparing us for our purpose
i remember looking
into your eyes
every night,
before i close mine;
like how i remember
the glow-in-the-dark stickers
when i was a child
back in my old room:

it was a mesmerizing
stargaze
that i
fell in love with,
that made me feel so
*nostalgic
i was in bed last night, sleeping in my sisters' room, and they had these glow-in-the-dark stickers on their closet doors, right across the bed i was in. i felt like i was stargazing. my nights and sleep have never been any better until last night.

but nothing, not even stars, can compare to your eyes.
Sometimes I wonder

if I even survived
my childhood.

Maybe some part of me
is sleeping
up on the hill.

One of those
Nightmares
That I couldn't escape
Carried me off
In its jaws

and so maybe
I am planted.
Looking down
At all the people
I can't remember.

I hope that I am ashes.
I never wanted a stone.
I've been standing at the edge of the ocean for a long time -
watching the crystalline waves when they come close and yearn to touch my skin.

Just like how I want to touch yours.

There's been a thousand sunrises and a thousand sunsets -
after a lifetime or two, they don't really matter anymore.

I remember the way you looked when you left -
although your back was turned towards me,
I felt each tear when it bled across your face.

When you looked into the horizon and silently begged
for the courage to go, I felt it through each chamber of my heart.

Seeing is believing, they say.
I don't really believe you wanted to go.
Next page