Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member

Members

Poems

Nathan Horkstrom Dec 2015
Her Masterpiece Is Her Story

Her paintbrush is a razor,
Her canvas, her wrists,
"I deserve the pain."
She shrugs and insists.

One day the brush will push down,
And it will cut so deep,
That this girl will fall
into an eternal sleep.

She doesn't remember how she started
What brought her interest to this,
How do you discover,
that cutting is your form of bliss?

No one would have guessed that she does it.
No one would have considered this one.
This girl is forever fighting a battle,
that she thinks the demons have won.

Her artwork is all over her,
Her beauty is on her thighs,
and if you look in her old trash,
you'll find her letters of goodbye.

Her masterpiece is quite disturbing,
Her masterpiece is a little gory,
Her artwork is her escape.
Let me tell you her story.

She compares herself to every person,
She is compared to each girl.
She thinks she's hideous,
And there's this boy that is her world.

She was bullied and picked on,
She was teased from head to toe,
Hard to believe that her best friend,
was her one and only foe.

Then later she disliked every little thing,
Her body, face and even her mind,
Soon she saw she was a failure,
and it was just in due time...

That this girl couldn't take it anymore
She'd decided she was done living this,
So one day she went home
and decided to end it.

Everyday for multiple days,
This girl would try to drown,
Hard to believe this girl at school,
never ever wore a frown.

Sometimes she'd just fall asleep crying,
Praying that she'd be enough,
Because she didn't want to leave her family.
She knew about their sweet love.

This girl found hope in small things eventually,
She soon would see this beautiful light,
and find a REAL best friend,
that helped her put up a fight.

Her masterpiece soon was leaving,
Her artwork was almost faded,
and it gave her a sick feeling,
the feeling of being jaded.

She found a boy that actually loved her,
And showed her love exists,
And this boy too had a masterpiece,
placed close to his wrists.

He related to her and she related to him.
She kissed his artwork and said he's not alone,
When she cut herself it hurt him,
Her masterpiece now wasn't just her own.

Her masterpiece effected others,
Her artwork wasn't just for herself,
She now had people,
who saw her cries for help.

And then her family found out,
So then they saw the art too,
to them they were just scars,
To her they were the truth.

She's trying to be okay now,
She thinks she might survive,
Even though they didn't think
to take away the knives.
This poem gets to me deeply.
Phil Lindsey Jun 2015
Soon, the masterpiece will come.
Shh, soon you’ll fall asleep,
And maybe in your dreams discover
Words and lines to keep.

For the darkness is a tunnel
Straight to Heaven’s door,
There a thousand poets wait for you -
A thousand gone before,
Before their works were finished,
Before their jobs were through
Now creation of the masterpiece
Is solely up to you.

Hear their spirit, poet!
Listen very close.
You’ve been chosen as the protégé
But do not brag or boast
For the masterpiece consumes you,
Like hell-fire, burns you up,
Leaves you thirsting for some water
And reaching for a cup,
That crumbles when you grab it.
While the water turns to dust,
But still you keep on reaching, reaching,
You must, you must, you must.

Feel their breath, oh poet!
Cool upon your skin,
Though sweat and perspiration
Reveal the torment trapped within.
For the masterpiece consumes you,
Like a pen that’s out of ink,
Leaves you reaching for a pencil,
And needing time to think,
But both ends are erasers
Now your passion turned to lust
So still you keep on reaching, reaching,
You must, you must, you must.

For the darkness is a tunnel
A tunnel straight to Hell
There a thousand poets wait for you -
At a long abandoned well,
Before their works were finished,
The waters all ran dry
There will be no masterpiece
If all the poets die.

Shh, soon the masterpiece will come.
Shh, soon you’ll fall asleep,
And a thousand poets after you
Will search for words and lines to keep.
Phil Lindsey 6/9/15
Dream Fisher Sep 2019
I wanted to write a masterpiece
Here's a page of my life,
What do you think of this?
Nobody is asking to read more
But if I didn't have these paper sheets
I don't think I'd be living anymore.
Here's the time I almost choked and died,
Ate the wrong thing and saw flat lines
And although I've written about it before,
Sometimes it feels like a war
So I write it again to pull that fear from my core.

I wanted to write a masterpiece
So my father might say he's proud
I spent my whole childhood working for it.
As an adult he gave me that line
And all i could feel was that he wasn't allowed.
My mother told me she was proud
And I felt like I was on skyscraper,
But when you're on top you can only go down.
No one ever speaks of your success
Until you're back broken on the ground.

I wanted to write a masterpiece
So here's 500 times I felt low
Here's another 500 I was able to grow
Here's every piece of life I've known.
Here's a masterpiece, I'll light it in flames
I'm just a human born to be lame
So keep the trophy I just wanted to play the game.
Get off that bench and quit the team,
We are all born from that same cloth
But I'm ready to rip the seams.

I wanted to be a masterpiece,
Not just a simple piece or a pawn
I want to be a masterpiece
Before they take me out and I'm gone.