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4.4k · Feb 2015
Ashes To Ashes
sol Feb 2015
Angel of Hell, Angel of the Sun.
Angel of fear, daring you to run.

Composed of fire,
Burning furiously with desire.

Flames licking at the surface,
Always threatening to worsen.

Burning deep below,
Hiding so no one will know.

Boiling just underneath,
Ready to be unleashed.

Ashes to ashes,
We all burn down.

Embers to embers,
Burning bright and proud.

Flames to burning flames,
Never to be tamed.
Rhyme scheme :D
I'm not so great with rhymes but I thought this was pretty good!!
2.1k · Sep 2016
save the bees
sol Sep 2016
i'm drawn to your lips like bees to nectar, but the bees are dying and so are we.
some random thought i had in class
i guess you can attach it to why we kiss, but i don't know right now, that hasn't been going anywhere as of right now (still a work-in progress)
1.6k · Nov 2015
Little Red Bird
sol Nov 2015
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Fly through the storm to me.
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Find your way to me.

And if you call upon me,
I shall not take too much,
And I shall not leave too little.
For I am a humble thing.

Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
A quick thing you be.
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Find a place to perch happily.

I am a smaller thing,
With bigger wings.
And I am the color of crimson,
For I bring you the morning sun.

Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Grow yourself legs and walk with me.
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Get yourself a voice, and tell me.

I am one for flying high,
And I belong in the sky.
Do not look at the ground,
For I am not one who resides there.

And at the times when you need me most,
Is when I am most silent.
For I count on you to hear me singing,
Even when the rain is quite loud.

Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
You are a delicate thing.
Little Red Bird, Little Red Bird,
Fly from my palms now,
And go to someone else who needs you,
More than I now do.
"Hope is a delicate thing,
Flitting like a songbird from one soul to another.
Treat it kindly.
Or it shall cease it's soft singing."
1.6k · Jan 2017
the bluebird and the moon
sol Jan 2017
the bluebird had queries and questions
and thought he should ask the moon,
but the moon was dark that night.
its hood was pulled tight.

the bluebird sighed, and so did the sun.
the sea greeted him with a waving hand.
“bluebird, bluebird up there!
the moon does not speak easy.
having its skin broken too many times.”

the bluebird whistled a sad tune.
“whatever shall i do, when i need the moon?
he will not speak, and i am too weak
to fly to him up there.”

the sea crashed against the rocky shore,
and its response was, “you need not wings,
bluebird, when the moon will come to you.
for when your light falls the moon will rise,
in the darkness it lights the skies.”

the bluebird huffed once again.
“i am not the sun, silly sea.
you mistake my feathers for blue skies,
i am not the stars in the night.”

but the bluebird could not see,
how bright he was to be.
and as he flew away,
the moon began to say,
“your wings are bigger than they seem.
bluebird, do not fret.
our time is to come together yet.

so the bluebird whistled a tune
as his wings expanded and grew,
and lifted him high into the sky,
and to the moon he drew nigh.
he landed among the stars.
bluebird, you will indeed go far.
the love story of the bluebird and the moon - innocence (part one)
1.5k · May 2017
fine print
sol May 2017
what a lovely thing it is
to know
you gave your heart
but not
your soul

yet you still lost it all
because you forgot
that when you signed
your heart away
your soul was
the fine

this is what you get
when you try
to share
your life
with another.
1.4k · Aug 2016
where willow trees grow
sol Aug 2016
i know your story and i know it well
hold the secrets you won’t tell
dream catcher, dream catcher, oh

so dare tell me a lie
as our collision draws nigh
we will sit and count all the stars in the sky

where do willow trees grow?
oh, but you and i both know
they grow where we roam
because we plant them as we go

we’ll be dancing in the dark before too long
with a match-strike smile and a killer tongue
dream catcher, dream catcher, run

i wrote a book of poetry
but it’s in a language you can’t read
take your time to find my heart reins peculiar chemistry

where do willow trees grow?
oh, but you and i both know
they grow where we roam
because we plant them as we go

your eyes reflect the city lights
your mind as vast as the stars in our sky
dream catcher, dream catcher, dare hide

the weeping willow will never hear,
how we draw so near.
the weeping willow will never know,
oh, where do willow trees grow?
tell me what you think?
1.4k · Oct 2018
sol Oct 2018
i dreamt of you.
you were faceless again.
i do not know why this happens.
1.2k · Jan 2017
a sense of wonder
sol Jan 2017
bright yellow suns
make up his soul.
a sense of wonder
that could never fade.

a small yellow flower
with petals so fragile,
but the seed remains.
he will grow again.

a sense of wonder
he does contain
that speaks to him.
question everything.

a sense of hope
he does contain
that speaks to him.
the sun will rise again.
1.1k · Dec 2015
Broken Sky
sol Dec 2015
There are galaxies of stars in your eyes
Like the rust spots scattered on the slide.
The one we used to ride,
Before the moon stole the tide.
And now I’m lost in the broken scatters
Because you were all that mattered.
"I'm sorry that I could see galaxies in your eyes but you couldn't find a single star in mine."
1.1k · Mar 2017
ode to imagination
sol Mar 2017
Galaxies and wonderment;
Suns brighter than suns;
A collection of constellations
Woven between my fingers.

I cry sunsets and
Hold sunrises on my shoulders;
Like Sisyphus rolls boulders.
This is my eternity.

I see demons in blue light;
Dancing around the firelight.
I see angels with charred wings;
Heads adorned with golden rings.

I have galaxies inside of me;
Worlds they will never know;
With grass that caresses the feet,
And air that smells sweet.

Then there are the withered parts
Of me that I hope they will never see;
With monsters that prowl the dark,
Creations that I pray I will never be.

Stars twinkle above my head.
I look at them and know their dread,
For I am in the space of limbo;
A realm where the winds always blow.

I can feel claws on my skin,
Tearing to rip my head open.
Inside is found stories untold;
Languages only the angels know.

Here I walk among the trees;
Here I walk among fantasies;
Worlds of my own creation.
Here you know my imagination.
an ode
1.1k · Mar 2017
sol Mar 2017
who would have thought it ends this way?
The stars, how they had warned us.
Now I don't know how to make you stay.

I can feel your life slipping through.
My hands shake, you are cold,
and I never guessed, I never knew.
My heart breaks as I let go.

We never knew where this led,
and now your blood is on my hands.
As the lamb makes his final stand,
I wish this wasn’t how it ends.

And now the sands tell your time.
As the wolf shouts to the moon,
the stars above you, they align.
revised 3/27/17
1.0k · Mar 2017
painted nails
sol Mar 2017
people write poems
about subjects
such as him.

with painted nails,
glittering eyes,
polished skin,

he is like poetry
about women
with lipstick
the color
of sin.

and as he drinks
his wine, they
will sit and write
poems about
subjects such
as him.
actually kinda proud of this
866 · Apr 2017
sol Apr 2017
my love, he enjoys the springtime.
the butterflies / they follow him
like dogs on a leash, cover him

they make him a crown from their
beating wings, like hearts upon
his head. he begs for deliverance.

only the butterflies hear his
whispering words to gods / he
hopes will hear / but he forgets

yet again / that he is a god himself
made of everything / they have ever
known. he is substance and lack of it.

i envy him with his hands of grace
his tongue / of lace instead of knives.
he asks for liberation but he liberates

my soul into worlds / unknown
filled with golden feathers and halos.
my blood runs thick / his runs thicker

with soft hair that / turns golden in
the sun, he shines as bright
as anything / i’ve ever known

brighter than the halos of the angels
filled with colors that could best
the boldest / painters, he is a painting

in motion / this i know
he is art come alive and dancing
through the clouds and heavens

to reside in the sun, where holiness
runs free like children in the street
and i hope he is never forgotten

like how he has forgotten all
that he was and should be, like
he has forgotten / someone like me.
a tale of love lost
850 · Jan 2016
Murky Waters
sol Jan 2016
For the longest time,
I thought that people
with brown eyes were't
as interesting as those
without. But, you see,
the reason those eyes are
so dark is because
they've seen too many
things, and they know too
much. Brown eyes are
the see all and know all.
They never miss a thing.
You can't keep a secret
from their depths.
Do not be fooled by the
murkiness of the waters.
For the lake they contain
is deeper than it seems.
it's late and i'm thinking
843 · Sep 2016
sol Sep 2016
my name is bitter on your lips.
i know because i can see the way
your eyes flash, your lips curl.
i am not sweet licorice anymore.

but that is strange, because i was
never sweet. you just bit into my
center. i am the darkness in the
light. do not look into my eyes
and dare tell me what is wrong
or what is right.

you however, oh, you were always
sweet. bitter as the shell but soft
on the inside. you, oh, you were
the light inside the darkness.

i enjoyed swirling your blood on
my tongue, coating my sense of
taste in nothing else but you, sweet.
but i bit my tongue and you stung.

oh, how you stung.
and i finally knew
what it was like
to love someone
like me, as someone
such as you.

because darkness can only exist with the absence of light.
and i never needed you to complete me.
841 · Dec 2015
sol Dec 2015
we were working with line break today... :/
774 · Dec 2016
there is meaning here
sol Dec 2016
as they stand
there is paint on the walls

political statements scrawled
angry and upset
on old buildings
stenciled or not
caught or not
they are there

they wonder what they mean
the font is hard to read but
there is meaning
they can feel it in their chest
in their heart and mind
there is fear here
or there is triumph
regardless, there is meaning

there is meaning in spray cans
climbing over fences just so they can
make a statement
that passengers in cars will see
that trains will carry with their cargo

they carry this meaning
as they walk home
afraid of the flashing lights
because here they have the right
to say what they will fight for

there is no judgement here
so this is where they leave
their meaning on the world.
for the future
741 · Feb 2017
love's a game
sol Feb 2017
my cards don’t line up.
i know yours don’t, either.
if love’s a game, i call bluff.
you lay your cards
and think you’ve won.
we’ve just begun.
if love’s a hit and run,
you can play that perfectly.
if love’s a game,
then i will never lose.
oh here we are again. here we go again.
739 · Dec 2015
sol Dec 2015
Love is not beautiful,
but it is not broken, either.
It is always somewhere in between.
sol Jul 2015
Tripping over words,
Like tripping over your own feet.
Strong willed and stubborn,
And that's the way it's gonna stay.
Everything we thought was impossible,
Falling into our lap.

You spread lies like jam on toast,
And it hurts when you shove your fingers down my throat.
You talk like you know it all,
But you need to keep quiet,
Because with a mouth like that,
You'll have people coming at you from all directions.

But hey, here we are, we survived,
And everything exchanged with cracking knuckles against bruised cheeks,
Well, things like that just complicate the situation.

You fly like you were taught,
But can you walk like us?
We're all we need,
But you need us.

We don't know any direction but forward,
So just watch us try and backtrack.
Go away, please stay,
Will you just make up your mind?

Behind metal bars isn't how I wanna live.
Give me the key and we'll get by,
The blows delivered getting under my skin.

Rattling off words like you know what they mean,
But can you read the notes on this music sheet?
You're nothing but show,
Your words giving way to fault.

You act like you were trained,
But can you talk like us?
You don't know a ******* thing,
And that's why you need us.

We sink like the Titanic,
Just sit back and watch us float,
I love you, but I hate you.
Someone tell me how to feel.

Because you rattle me like I rattle the bars of my cage.
"People only get really interesting when they start to rattle the bars of their cages."

For The Win - We Are The In Crowd
672 · Mar 2017
humanity before angelity
sol Mar 2017
they see him running on sunbeams in the early morning. stars are tied to his toes and they rattle behind him like chains, but he has never felt so liberated. there was a time when atoms were exploding in his lungs and he could not breathe, colors would fly behind his eyes and he could not see. his skin was numb from too many suns burning beneath the surface. he used to curse the morning; now he holds it in his hands and sprinkles it down upon us.

he still sees himself as human, is that a surprise? though he is stardust and the remains of energy, he is flesh and blood first. he came from the womb, not from the sky. he knew his hands before he knew his wings; he knew his words before he knew his magic. he dances with the snow on winter nights only to melt it away in the day. he drinks golden wine, it’s gods ichor he sips. he twirls his curls around his fingers and whistles tunes only the bluebirds understand. he runs barefoot through forests and though his feet may bleed, he brings the sunlight with him and that’s all he needs. he trips on skies and sips waterfalls, throws his wishes into wells. he can make miracles happen. what being in the world would want to make such magic angry?

a thousand suns have tried before, to hold him in their burning grasp. there is no force known to us that can contain him where they lack.
661 · May 2017
fate (try #2)
sol May 2017
We gather here tonight
To bask in Fate’s delight.
A tale to tell our path,
A tale of Fate’s dear wrath.

Who is fate up there,
With her shining silver hair?
Arranging constellational myths,
From her fingertips.

What can we believe of Fate?
Basking immortal in the sky,
To her we wonder why--
The stars are wrinkles in time.

What drives the stars to shine,
And what can we ask of them,
In lines and curves and light?
Can they guide us through our life?

Can Fate tell us all of this?
After all, she is made of myths.
She burned the flying Icarus,
And cursed dear Prometheus.

Who are we without our fate?
Do we know our own way?
What are we without dreams?
What are we without prophecies?

“Where is Fate?” we ask.
“Can we coax her out?”
Instead she whispers down,
Fate is found inside ourselves.
i have no idea if this is any good, i wrote it for a school event. please let me know what you think.
661 · Nov 2016
obsidian & gold
sol Nov 2016
dare i wonder what you think of me
for i do not know what i think of myself.
maybe there's a difference between how you see yourself and how you let others see you.
     am i a plague or a remedy
     am i stone cold or burning flames
     am i chilled to the bone or am i a home
sometimes home can be a person, but i am no home.
my hands are cold, they will burn you with
frost. i am kind but i am afraid.
my chest hurts with the thought of you.
not because i wish to have you but because
                            i don't.
maybe i do, but i am an ocean and you are lost in me. i can see the moon.
     do i flee from what i have only to retreat to what i am?
i ask of you, are you something new or the
                             thing that i can't find.
i have a treasure that i wish to keep and
                              not soil.
you are a treasure of your own.
yet i am not worthy.

i can have obsidian or i can have gold.
Man has always been greedy but i am
     am i kind?
am i kind to take a cherry with
     cyanide pit?
you believe me a diamond, but i am only coal.
you, my dear, have a heart made of gold.
658 · Dec 2015
You Are Not What You Seem
sol Dec 2015
I beg your eyes to open up to me like castle gates.
Let me cross the moats, I want to see what you’re made of.
Light a match, set this on fire, it’ll blow away in my hurricane.
I am the fire, you are the timber, so let me come and leave my scars.

Let me lay down all my cards, I have nothing to show.
Lay down your weapons, you hold no sins.
If it came down, would you **** to show your innocence?
If I put you through Hell will you come back unbranded?

I licked you with my lies, burnt you with my ties.
I covered you in slime, hurt you down to your insides.
If I’m your hurricane then you’re the shore that I tear apart.
So let me come and pass, I won’t hold it over your head.

If you hold this between your hands then by all means.
Show me what you’re made of!
If I am the will then you are the doubt.
If I am the mercy then you are without.

The way you fold yourself in two, ripping apart at the creases.
Splitting yourself into pieces is the only way you are enough.
If I am the ignorance then you are the clarity.
If I am the shame then you are the pride.

You are the parts that claim who I am.
Because if I am the strength that makes you the weakness.
And if I am the drug then you are the dealer,
And if you are the devil then I am the sinner.
Hurricane - 30 Seconds To Mars
612 · Sep 2016
Truth with a capital T
sol Sep 2016
accept it as it is; know you can't change it
ten words, who knows
we were discussing the Enlightenment period today in class, and we talked about Plato's idea of Truth (as one singular Truth rather than many truths) yesterday for Politics, and the two subjects crossed, which i found interesting
598 · Dec 2015
sol Dec 2015
i think i see you staring at me,
  But then i turn my head and it is just a trick of the light.
The luminescent bulbs reflect off the white walls, and i wince when i hear you speak.
     A butterfly settles on my cheek.

i thought i saw you standing in the corner of my room,
  watching me sleep as my chest rises and falls with the thought that i will wake up next to you.
     But it is only a ghost i had created in order to replace you.

i hoped i would find you in my dreams.
  i did, but you were not dreaming of me.
And they say that when you dream about someone it's because they fell asleep thinking of you.
  i highly doubt that is true,
     And i don't dream during the night, much less about you.

i wish you would talk to me.
  A half of my life says that i can't trust you, because they are afraid that you will hurt me.
And the other portion of my life tells me to take chances now,
  or i won't have stories to tell to my children, or my children's children.

And if i can't reach you then i know that i am nothing more than a fragment of a broken star that is not part of your constellations.
     Because i am too far away for you to see or care about.

And I hope that someday i will be part of someone's world.
Close enough to see so they miss me when i am gone.
  But if that never happens then i will fade out rather than burn away.
     Having nothing to give, i will leave no trace.
experimenting. let me know if there are any mistakes, i'll correct them
597 · Jun 2017
sol Jun 2017
archeologists brush dust away from bones,
like memories from empty homes.
here i sit among rubble and ruin,
amidst broken picture frames strewn.

this is the scene i remember the most.
my words are written, jagged,
in a notebook forgotten, ragged am i
as my eyes shine like broken glass.

my bones turn to rust, to dust.
i brush away my remains from this grave
of a home i no longer remember.
among portraits i am no longer a part of.

november comes around with its bells,
bellows loud that i am not welcome here.
it brings fallen petals of blood red rust.
i am stained with agony and painful lust.

for a time that does not forgive,
and as the cold sweeps in i know,
november is the time of sin, for me.
i was born in a time that does not forgive.

the picture frames will not let me back in.

i / am / absent / here
eh. free write about ruin.
594 · Sep 2016
the wolf and the lamb
sol Sep 2016
“hi, i’m wolf” his eyes were silver. the silvered-eyed boy with brown skin.

i remember this. i remember him, the way his tongue would fiddle with his silver lip-ring on the right side of his mouth. the silver pointed studs that hooked through his left eyebrow.

the way he said my name.

i was always “carnage” from where i came. i wasn’t named that, no. but they would say it anyway, just to see if i would flinch. if i fell for it, they would follow with “you break everything you touch”.

if i fell for that?

that was why my blood was usually the one running down the sink on those nights.

“your name isn’t carnage, really? you don’t look like someone who could hurt that many souls.” my eyes fell away from his, ashamed. “tell me you don’t believe that, little lamb”

so that became my new name.
something new, i guess. tell me what you think??
563 · Aug 2016
sky; star
sol Aug 2016
“the sky has gained a star.”
“i do not want to remember him as a star! there are millions of stars! i want to remember him as blu, as who he was. a man, with the sun as his soul. with wings the color of the sky, and eyes the color of rainclouds. he is not a star; he is the man who brought us here. who eliminated what has been plaguing our people for decades, the man who taught me what it was like to be in love with the day when i am are the night. blu was my love! he is a man! he would not want to be a legend, he would only want to die when we die! he was humble; remember him as such. a man, not a star.”
559 · Aug 2016
sol Aug 2016
i've always felt at home up high,
since i am closer to the stars.
       the stars seem like the best thing
       we can hope to be.
526 · Dec 2015
sol Dec 2015
A red swing paired with a blue slide.
The rust of the metal reflected in diamond eyes.
A childhood that seemed perfect from the outside.
Buried underground with lies told from the inside.

Pale pieces of wood on a beach shore.
Soft sand that they hoped would forget the blood that they poured.
Clumps of seaweed along the rim like lost limbs.
Scattered into pieces, they know how it is.

A fenced in **** farm housing a satellite.
Stars reflected in green eyes like drinking the night.
They’re sipping on alcohol, burning so bright.
It’s better to burn out than to leave without a fight.
i felt like having no title worked better for this. think just a little bit. give me your thoughts or opinions.
525 · Nov 2016
a collection of thoughts
sol Nov 2016
am i too big for my own skin? or do i just make myself out as something i am not?
sometimes i see things from the outside and i can see me hiding in myself because i want to pretend i am something great.
it feels like lies, but never have i wanted more than lies to be truth. i want to believe that what you see is what i am.
but can that be?
i want to be what you see. but can that be?
the story (acoustic) - fivefold
(this will be deleted in due time)
519 · Mar 2017
heavy breathing
sol Mar 2017
I hope you can't hear my breathing,
Because the lies I've told are unsheathing.

And I walked through Hell and back for you,
But I suppose you wouldn't know that...
...Would you?
517 · Aug 2016
and it's three am
sol Aug 2016
our minds are more awake while we sleep.
so this is why i never go to bed.
because i'd rather dream with my eyes open.

and how dare the stars still shine,
as we are dropping dead like flies.

but i guess that's their point.

i like to pretend that i am walking through the universe.
it's much easier to understand up there;
why our eyes shine, why our cheeks ignite.

because we are made of stars.
we are barely a pinprick on the map of this universe,
but we are made to
*S H I N E
the sublime

and it's three am
i'm still alone
with my thoughts
498 · Aug 2016
ii. why we kiss
sol Aug 2016
loneliness is ten letters, but the thought of me ending without you because i never told you to kiss me is all i think about.
     there is nothing i am more afraid of then feeling alone because i don't have you, but yet i am terrified i will have you and still feel empty.
     kissing only lasts so long but i can still remember the taste of your lips -- honey and salt in the perfect mixture of sweet and bitter, for those who wonder -- and i still hear the way you whispered my name against my neck in my dreams.
two out of thirteen
a work-in progress
493 · Mar 2017
sol Mar 2017
i think i see you in my nightmares. my therapist says i am insane. i say it is the heartache.

for once i wish to forget what it feels like to be forgotten, even if it means forgetting you. i wish i hated you while you loved me, so then i will know how it feels to be forgotten by me like i have been forgotten by you.

i scatter myself into piece like broken mirrors at my feet because it is better to be broken than to let them see me bleed. i tape myself back together and hope that they will never know what i have done.

i want to rip out my ******* hair because you are the reason i can’t breathe but you are also my air.

i hope you drown, sink to the ocean floor and let the fish swim among your bones.

it doesn’t matter if you stay or go. i promise this, i will still see you in my nightmares.
about nothing in particular
473 · Aug 2016
i. why we kiss
sol Aug 2016
we kiss because the air we breathe for most of our lives is stale, but the air inside your lungs is the freshest i've ever tasted.
     god, let me breathe you in like the smoke i crave, yet you still insist will **** me.
one out of thirteen
still a work-in progress
452 · Mar 2017
sol Mar 2017
I have always known how to breathe, but around you I am breathless.
I have always known how to feel, but with you I can’t place it.
At times I feel safe with you, I want to hold you close and never let go.
Then other times I want to hurt you or myself or anything else to keep from screaming.
The sun and the moon were always set to collide, but I have never felt more at home in your shadow.
You call me magic but you are wrong.
I am no god or angel or otherworldly being, I am human, it is all I have ever known.
Gods and angels would know how to feel or they wouldn’t feel at all.
I may have power running through my veins but against you I am powerless.
Blood may flood my chest, but if you are the cause then I will call it nothing less than ecstasy.
I was always the boy with enough air in my lungs, but with you I am utterly breathless.
450 · Aug 2016
iii. why we kiss
sol Aug 2016
we kiss because love is liquid death, and we're just curious to take a sip.
     darling, it's okay to wonder about death because you haven't tried it yet. just trust me when i say that love is the slowest, most painful route to take.
three out of thirteen
a work-in progress
449 · Jan 2017
the moon's sorrow
sol Jan 2017
the moon stood in the sky
with tools upon his back.
so he’d work through day
and through the night.

he forged the weapons of
warriors throughout his land,
and for one it was quite special
to hold a blade made from his hand.

the sun gleamed in the day,
but the moon was far away.
a star catcher he did make
to pull the sun into his wake.

eclipses aren’t made to last.
but their energy stays
a never forgotten past.
the moon enjoyed the sun’s rays.

so should he stand in shadows,
he was content with his fate.
at least the sun lived day to day.

the moon hid his pain, day to day,
for he hurt in way that mortals
could not know, could not speak.
his sorrow made gods fall to their knees

and so the moon toiled, day to day,
while the sun lived away
but he could not weep.
the sun was never his to keep.
rough piece. the bluebird and the moon's love story - experience (part two)
437 · Jan 2016
Center of the Rose
sol Jan 2016
Sometimes I’m torn between
the light side of my soul,
and the dark place in my brain.
People say you have to pick a side,
you can’t stand in between.
And if I’m caught in the crossfire,
it’s better than tearing myself apart.
Pitting one side of me against the other.
Because the demon whispers lullabies
While the angel whispers doubts.
I’d like to think I’m quick to catch the lies
in the net of truths shouted at me,
collecting in the space behind my eyes.
Sometimes my finger slips
and I pull the trigger, but little did I
know the gun was pointed the wrong
way, so now I have a bullet between my
eyes, aiming at the dark part of me.
But the angel side decides that
maybe I’m not ready to die.
I pinned a rose to the face of the
side that died when I thought it was
wise to try and take my own life.
Because the demon in me promised
me a truth that was consisted of lies.
And my heart is empty, with a blood
red lipstick stain on my cheek. And the
demon in me says that it’s not my
responsibility, but how could I not know
that while I was keeping the light behind
a cage, the dark was roaming free.
My nail was painted white when I held
the muzzle to my cheek. And I aimed to
**** the bad part of me, but the angel shot
an arrow at his brother and changed his
mind before I had time to change mine.
An angel killed an angel, in a moment
of fear and shame. I fed the wolf too much
rotten meat. I corrupted the light in me,
running too fast to keep up, and I
missed the black spots swimming in
my head. The Devil kissed my lips
while I was sleeping, and the angel
drank the poison to save me the agony.
I let the light swallow the dark only
to turn into the poison meant to **** me.
And now I peel the petals of the rose
bestowed to me by God, only to
see the body of the angle laying
dead in the center, pollen coating
its skin as it sleeps eternally.
Just like the better part of me.
this is probably the deepest thing i've ever written. sorry if it's too depressing.

The Art Of Anesthesia - SayWeCanFly
sol Dec 2015
together, we have the fury to set this world on fire.
but alone, you have the passion to rearrange the stars,
make the sun freeze,
and fill the moon with life.

i can create tornado’s and wind storms,
small glimpses of silver breath whistling through
the wheat fields, over the tops of trees.

i could never match your ability
to make the sunset paint all of the sky instead of just one half of it.
the universe turns it’s head whenever you work your magic.
in the thick of things, i am a grenade exploding
but you are the big bang that started it all.
more line break...this was a paragraph. sorry if it looks a little awkward :/
428 · Jan 2016
sol Jan 2016
In the sadness and rage filling every inch of my thoughts, I was a lonely figure standing among the charred trees and ashes, holding an empty bucket of water and inhaling smoke more than I'd ever breathed air.
I was a dying candle with the wick down to its stem, hardly able to hold a flame much less give light.
Because the more I gave the less I seemed to exist. And the only thing I had left to give was my existence.
something i wrote in class. not really a poem, sorry
420 · Apr 2017
statues and stones
sol Apr 2017
statue angels and stone cold kings.
mine their hearts and steal their rings.
turn them into crowns for nobles unbound,
sitting with Arthur at a table so round.

ancient martyrs and modern heroes.
tales of rebellion and battles they go.
fighting horned demons and winged serpents,
with blood on their hands they feel the repentance.

they drink their *** and consume the alcohol,
waiting and watching for the hammer to fall.
yet no news came of the hellish flame,
that was said to burn them all.
419 · May 2018
sol May 2018

there is no light in this
place where i reside.
my eyes go black and

can you imagine being devoid?
a soul like nothingness.

what allows you to imagine?
what allows you to wonder?


once i had felt the light.
once i was the light.
now i am lost, eyeless.
if only i could unsee.
if only i could unspeak.

what to do when such
secrets blind you, silence you.


i thought i was sunlight.
i thought i was kind.
now i understand
         i understand.

nothing can be undone.
it can only be remade.
408 · Dec 2015
Rusted Slide
sol Dec 2015
Blue like the diamonds in their eyes.
A childhood broken on a rusted slide.
The rungs of the ladder are gone,
The sirens of the city moving on.
idek, i'm trying to write something for class, sorry if i keep spamming you :/
403 · Mar 2017
sol Mar 2017
if he is such an angel
then why do i see him
in my nightmares?

i know he rules over
sweet dreams and
fantasies, but he is
not in my dreams.
only in my memories.

so the moon rises
another night,
and i say to him,
hello there,
the angel from
my nightmares.
this is the eclipse
400 · Aug 2016
sol Aug 2016
“he will destroy himself” he looked up at her, her hair like the smoke trailing from his fingers. tears traveled down the length of his nose and collected on his lips like salty dew drops. “the star thief will one day become what he stole” and she left him with this, the universe collecting on his shoulders like sand washed onto the shore.
395 · Mar 2017
sol Mar 2017

through the sirens and the light
all i saw was you
387 · May 2018
sol May 2018
you want to believe they will grow to miss you. you know you are wrong when you say they will realize what they let go. they never made a mistake; you didn’t either. it was a flame meant to suffocate. while you got hit with the explosion, they had lit the fuse. they were walking away and left you to pick up the mess that was made. what pieces of belief you had were shattered; you worked so hard to put them together. soon, your skin will harden to protect those parts of you that are so naive. bombs will fall around you, and you will get knocked off your feet. but the more they happen, the stronger you will grow, and the easier it will be to pick yourself up off the floor. this is what life is. this is the danger of love. this is the danger of hope. this is the danger of trusting anyone besides yourself. you can’t even do that anymore, though.
you will grow.
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