Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Jan 2016 · 393
the life-death
phalaenopsis Jan 2016
how can someone so alive
feel so
dead on the inside?
Jan 2016 · 467
a feeling of depression
phalaenopsis Jan 2016
tar pit black waves
over my frail heart,
making it weak,
                          weak,
                  weak.

i cannot function,
nor can i think,
all i feel is resentment.

at times, at scary times,
it suffocates me.
it's like i can't breathe,
                                     nor see,
                                                nor do,
                                                       nor feel.

i feel empty,
barren,
deserted.

and it ******* hurts.

it ******* hurts to feel empty when all you have been trying to do is fil the void.

it ******* hurts to try your hardest again and again just to be hurt again.

it ******* hurts to feel so volatile. so ******* volatile.

it ******* hurts to say *******.

it hurts everywhere, and i am explosive.

i feel like my eruption will cause a disaster, turmoil, outrage, turbulence.


but i don't care.


because it ******* hurts to put everyone before yourself and be disappointed every ******* time.
Dec 2015 · 417
him.
phalaenopsis Dec 2015
his eyes were full of stars
the brightest ones.

beautiful baby,
with his head in the clouds,
filled with dreams of peace,
dreams of light,
dreams of life.

beautiful baby,
you just don't understand.
dreams remain dreams,
forever and ever.
it's only when kismet feels good that she
decides to intertwine your dreams with
reality.

otherwise,
it remains in your head,
as a mere thought,
a mere happy frame.

beautiful baby,
your eyes have a lovely glow,
i've never seen someone
as beautiful.

never seen
a happiness,
as bright as yours.

tell me,
how can you smile
while the world weeps around you,
mourning for her children who go at war from time to time,
dropping eggs of destruction on one another?

how can you smile
while your life crumbles around you,
and your life isn't your life anymore?

beautiful baby,
you're so broken,
so torn.
you try to patch yourself up with a smile,
and you try to dream and conjure up different realms and realities
where you are the king, and you rule a peaceful world.

beautiful baby,
your dreams are giving you headaches,
maybe you should take some painkillers,
then sleep a little.

beautiful baby,
why aren't you waking up?
have your dreams finally taken you,
to a parallel universe,
to your own heaven,
your own nirvana.

i love you baby,
so so much,
now you exist in my head,
as a beautiful boy,
no,
a beautiful tiger,
with creamy white fur,
and black stripes,
you prow through the jungle,
free and wild.

forever free,
beautiful baby
Nov 2015 · 349
definition of love
phalaenopsis Nov 2015
he intoxicates me with his love,
his sweet, sweet poison.

numbing release,
i want all of your love.

i'm selfish that way,
always wanting things,
always expecting things,
but never getting them.

but i know you're different,
your like an angel,
here to save me...

from myself.
love is deadly
Nov 2015 · 1.2k
sweet release
phalaenopsis Nov 2015
dionysus,
i beg,
plague me with your drunken spirit,
free me of my heavy heart,
let me revel in your happiness,
i beg,
let me,
let me.


dionysus,
king of the party,
spirit of the drugs,
protector of the drinks,

make me high
higher
than ever before

take me to ecstasy
let me taste your amphetamines
let me feel and feel
until i can feel no more.

feelings are boring now,
and they only feel like a deep, brooding ghost
waiting to pounce on me
and weigh me down.

DIONYSUS,
how long will i scream your name?
how long will i be tormented by your silence?
come to me with your fun spirit of party,
plague me with the spirit of relaxation,
i want what you can give me.
release,
sweet release.

i want it all,
i want to dream of trees turning into lollipops
and hydrangeas looking like candyfloss.

i want to be far away,
so far away,
that i can never come back down.

but,
but,
only for a bit,
only until i feel better,
only until i am happy again.

can you do that for me dionysus?
can you?

because, you see,
i can't do without help,
i need help to do everything.

i need help to be happy,
and you have what i want.

it feels like i am chanting the same thing over and over
you are just like everyone,
you all never listen.

YOU NEVER LISTEN!
you just sit and watch.
watching me drown.
i am plummeting,
and the most all of you can do
is to record my downfall.

and dionysus you have my cure,
but you won't give it to me.
falling.
Nov 2015 · 1.0k
numbness
phalaenopsis Nov 2015
you know that feeling you get?
that feeling where its like you're watching everyone's life through some *****, fake, tainted glass.
that feeling that you're invisible, unseen and unclear to the world; like you don't even matter.
that feeling where you can't even understand the human beings around you,
are they from a different planet?
what language are they speaking?
because i swear you're sitting right next to me but the way you're talking makes you seem eons away.

that feeling where no one understands you,
or you don't understand anyone else.

that moment where you feel like a bystander,
watching through a movie screen,
as the others live their lives,
play their games,
and catch their fun.

that moment has been with me for days and months
its creeping up me like a pariah.

making me feel,
no making me un-feel.

i am isolated,
isolated by myself.

they say no man is an island,
well i am no island,
but i am a black house on a road with colorful apartments
all changing their decorations as the year passes

but i still remain,
black and alone.

sad and isolated.

i would ask for help but
they wouldn't understand.
isolation is my ruin
Nov 2015 · 5.3k
illusion
phalaenopsis Nov 2015
you pierced me
and i am wounded

slightly offended

but i am wounded.

but we all rise at a point
we are all glorified and adored at a ****** point in life

now it is your turn
but tomorrow will be mine.
Nov 2015 · 857
coca cola
phalaenopsis Nov 2015
leaves a deep bubbly feeling
in me.

kind of like how i feel around you,
but unlike you,

coke lets me take it in.
the sweet coca cola taste.

unlike you,
you reserved ****.

i want you,
all of you,

but i can't have it.
because you aren't mine to have.

and that hurts more than it really should.
my heart still aches.
Nov 2015 · 1.7k
a broken, bleeding heart.
phalaenopsis Nov 2015
the shards of my shattered blood line
piercing into my lungs
tearing it open

letting me bleed my sadness out.

i bleed slowly;
                       i bleed,
                                    i bleed.

your vibrant persona is too much for me to handle,
it feels choking at times.

but nonetheless i am attracted
like a moth to a flame.
i know it is dangerous,
i know it will only end in my execution,
but i go in anyway
orchestrating my own death.

i plummet into your aura,
i take it in.

and a small part of me believes
that you even had the smallest inch of care for me.

but you don't.
it's someone else it always is.

it's always the 'it's not you it's me' crap;
or the 'i don't feel the same' torture.

nonetheless it breaks me,
and i break in silence.

the saddest part is i thought i had a chance with you.

joker.

what a joke.

it can't happen,
it will never happen.
and that is all there is for me.

there is no yes or inbetween.
it is always no,
a resounding no.

but it's not your fault.
i know i am an ogre,
a monster with two minuscule eyes,
with my pores oozing acid,
and my mouth spewing fire.

my fiery temper restricts all suitors,
i know i cannot be tamed.

maybe that is why.

i am boundless and limitless and that may be intimidating.
but
but i am human,

and every human has that one boundary and
that one
limitation.

that was meant to be you,
meant to be you for me.

but you have someone else,
someone prettier and better.

so be happy, because that's all i want;

but for now,

i bleed slowly;
i bleed,
i bleed.
i'm currently mending a broken heart by using the only means i know how... poetry.

Word of Advice: boys are torture
Oct 2015 · 1.4k
astronomical lovers
phalaenopsis Oct 2015
the sun.
a fiery yellow goddess;

and the moon,
her fervent lover,
her devout worshiper.

the moon is a silvery mystery,
with his brooding manner.

he only shines
because the sun graces him
with some of her confidence.

he only shines
because the sun
completes him.

these two lovers,
separated by space.
they worship from afar.

and the royal goddess,
weeps heat
down to us,
her unlucky prisoners.

she pours out her tears of heat
unto the world,
engulfing us,
in her anger and sorrow.

but the moon,*
the queer, shy, moon.
the moon,
her fervent lover,
her devout worshiper.

the moon hides behind dark clouds,
and only comes out to peak at the
             sad,
                                    mediocre,
                                                and stupid
                                                                             lives
we mortals live.

he peaks in wonder,
he peaks in curiosity.
but all eyes fall on him when he steps out.

he is a silver mirage of beauty.

the moon, unlike his fiery lover,
is shy.

he goes into hiding again
once all eyes fall
                                  on him.

sometimes,
the moon
goes out of character.
he gets jealous of earth.

earth,
     who takes all of the suns attention.

earth,
who's life revolves around energetic sun.

so sometimes,
the moon,
steps in front of the earth,
and receives all of the beautiful suns glory.
even if just for a moment,

the lovers are reunited.

but,*
space pulls them apart.

as the sun continues to lash down
heat unto mortals.

as the moon, the brooding moon,
continues to hide behind the cloaking clouds,
unseen to the world.
yeah so i was looking outside and... this happened.
Oct 2015 · 298
time
phalaenopsis Oct 2015
in my mind
we are infinite;
never ending,
never changing.

in my mind,
i am forever young,
forever pure.
like those immortalized by death,
i am immortalized by life.

in my mind,
in my mind.

in reality,
there is an hourglass
on my life.
timing me,
until that exact moment,
where i am no more.

timing till when
i am nothing

but past tense.
Oct 2015 · 854
my wandering mind
phalaenopsis Oct 2015
sadness.
twisting and coiling its way,
around my frail heart.
sending its deep poison in
through its jeering fangs.

it numbs me.

sweet numbness,
take me away,
to the valley of all things
unfeeling and
uncaring.

i want to know no strength
i want to feel no pain.

sweet poison,
infiltrate my heart,
make me numb.
i am nothing but dead to the world.

because that is what dead people do.
they open a void that ***** people in,
wrapping their hands in chains of gloom.
they cry for help,
beg for mercy.

fools.
wasting their time.
the numb don't feel anything.
only a cold that spreads
through their body
like a virus,
or some sort of
disease.

spreading through them,
filling their arteries and veins,
until they are numb,
like the cold, grainy sands of the earth
they are numb.
they feel nothing.

sweet snake of sadness,
send your venom.
straight to the heart,
send it quick.

for before death,
there is always a great sadness.

but is death ideal?
do i want to eternally
wander the earth waiting for
the mystical hosanna to call us
all for our last judgement?

is death the only means of permanent numbing known?
i mean, there are drugs.
but do they last?

do we last?

what effect do we leave
on this coccoon,
this shell,
of protection called earth?

what do we leave?
do we leave hatred,
unsettled feelings,
and people in chains of sadness?

or do we leave a sunflower?
a sign of hope, peace.
a sign of looking towards the brighter light?
Okay so I basically poured majority of my recurring thoughts into this poem. That is why it is titled "my wandering mind"
Sep 2015 · 1.6k
pamela courson
phalaenopsis Sep 2015
three years,

three years gone.

i'm zoned,
way out,
of this galaxy.

i'm not here,
i'm far away.
so don't come,
knocking on my door.

hey, happiness!
where are you?
sadness and death have already come,
knocking on my door.

i only let ****** come in,
and take control,
but it's you i need.

because you see,
for three years,
i haven't had you near me.

you died.

hey, happiness!
listen to me.

i need you,
come on over.

you left me,
with 'precious' money.
but for all the money,
all the estates,
you left me with,
it still hasn't,
brought you back to me.

if you aren't going to come,
i'm going to meet you.


*hi.
Okay so I wrote this poem based on Jim Morrison's longtime girlfriend: Pamela Courson. She went a bit insane after he died and eventually overdosed on ****** three years after. This was basically me trying to interpret what I think would've been her thoughts.
Sep 2015 · 444
love is weird
phalaenopsis Sep 2015
sometimes,
when the tiny lightbulb in me,
flickers on.

i dream of love,
i dream of friendship,
i dream of trust,
i dream of all the good things,
i don't seem to
have.

and,
when that lightbulb,
begins to dim,
your face flashes,
in my mind.

it's not beautiful,
it's not spectacular but
there's something
about it.

i'm attracted to
your light.
undeniably so,
i think your soul
is so attractive.

more than anything.

but,
once that light in me,
switches off.

the feelings die.
and i forget
who you are.
Sep 2015 · 375
DROWNING
phalaenopsis Sep 2015
all i feel,
inside and out,
is pain.
pain all over.
i'm aching,
won't you save me?

save me,
from myself,
because,
nowadays,
i'm starting to think,
my only demon,
is myself.
Sep 2015 · 907
porcelain girl
phalaenopsis Sep 2015
she laughs a thousand laughs,
but inside,
she dies a thousand deaths.
Sep 2015 · 2.0k
THE CITY
phalaenopsis Sep 2015
taxi, taxi,
come take me away.

from the blinding lights,
they're hurting my eyes.

and the people,
come take me away.

from the monsters,
pulling at my feet.

creating scars
all
      over
                me.

i'm dying taxi-man,
yes i am.

physically i'm alive,
emotionally i'm dying.

slowly, slowly,
but surely.

taxi,
take me away.

taxi,
take me away.

taxi,
are you even listening?*


-PHALAENOPSIS

— The End —