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ScrabbleDiva Sep 2014
Some people think they know what pain is.
I'll tell you what pain is.

Pain is accidentally using your astringent instead of your eye makeup remover.
Pain is stepping on a lego barefoot.
Pain is stubbing your pinky toe on the same table leg for the 50th time.

Pain is taking responsibility for something that wasn't your fault simply because you're an "adult."
Pain is shedding a tear for the close friend who committed suicide over a year ago.
Pain is thinking about the last look of recognition before your grandfather's death.

Pain is feeling like you can never be honest with anyone about what you are truly feeling.
Pain is the fear that you may not ever find "the one."
Pain is caring too much for people who will never love you.

Pain is realizing that everything you believed in might be false.
Pain is knowing that the people you trusted have lied to you.
Pain is understanding that they were only doing what they thought was right.

This is my pain.
What's yours?
ScrabbleDiva Aug 2013
Searing secrets spill all over the floor between us like lava.
Seizing
Ripping
Tearing
Emotions clog my thoughts and rip through my fragile mask
Exploding onto my unsuspecting face.
Swallow them back. Don't act like a child.
You are better than this. Don't act like him.
A million volatile thoughts finally form one question: "why?"
A sideways glance. A floorboard focal point.
A thousand excuses escape and fall into the molten floor.
A skirt, a smile, a kiss, a mistake.
Forgiveness?
Forget it.
And the bell over the door chimes.
ScrabbleDiva Aug 2011
This day was so good,
But now it is quiet night.
Soon I will see you, Dear.

The troubles of day are gone, Dear.
Now we must focus on only good.
Dream shall we in this minty night.

Bodies harmonized to the motion of the night.
You are my nightingale, Dear.
Eyes close and all is good,

And we whisper, "Good night Dear."
This is a tritina that I wrote as an example for my creative writing class. I liked how it turned out, so I thought that I would post it. :)
ScrabbleDiva Jan 2011
The cool of the night envelopes us,
yet even the warmth of his sturdy hand,
cannot stop the chills careening down my spine.

With thoughts of the night still flashing behind our eyes,
we contemplate how to break the silence.
I mention the stars, it seems cliché,
yet he smiles, ahh that smile,
it revives the memory of our accidental meeting.

The deafening music beat against my head
like a thousand construction sites at once.
I stepped back to avoid further hearing loss.
We collided and said our excuse me’s.

Ohh how strikingly he smiled at me.
He sees the logo on my T-shirt.
We spoke for hours on trivial subjects:
the weather, the band, our past.

it awakens the memory of that date at the mall,
and the ketchup on his polo shirt.

it awakens the memory of that Fourth of July,
when I nicked his neck with a roman candle.

Again and again the awkward collisions,
tumbling into a temporary romance.

A car’s rumble brings my mind back,
“I have to go,” he says.
We embrace and part with ****** lips.
ScrabbleDiva Jan 2011
An endless ocean of fabric before her,
with abstract names that hold no meaning except,
in the constant chatting of blond girls in short skirts.
She has to pick the right one.
ScrabbleDiva Jan 2011
I once had a dream
Under an emerald sky
People with faces like clocks
Hands never stopping
Spinning round and round
Rust Rust
Twas all for not
ScrabbleDiva Jan 2011
My ship sailed the quiet seas,
slowing in a coral reef.
The setting sun shown on the flitting fish.

I peered into the deep,
into the darkness.  Then on the horizon,
water sprayed, a whale breached the surface.

I paused and took a breath.
The sun set each coral aflame.
Their light descended through the water

To a smooth shape, a fish: it swam
under each coral bridge, drifting
in the haven of the reef.

Vibrant, swift, comforted in its home,
taking in the light, reflecting
back its golden rays, the ******

of bliss, the burst of crimson
before darkness, a deep fire, the perfect
position, the enduring beauty, the sea at sunset.
This poem is meant to imitate the poem “The Return” by William Heyen.  I attempted to match his form almost exactly.  The content is similar and both use first person voice.  My poem also uses past tense verbs like the author.  Finally, I noted that his poem used alliteration, which I tried to incorporate into this poem.
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