My mind is never empty

Like those days with clouds moving in different directions
a foggy landscape,
zombie weather, my brother claims,
but with particles zooming in all directions
or so my unfinished chemistry homework says.

Calendars filled with graphite lettering
stacked upon piles of papers,
discarded months swept into heaps
of forgotten leaves, neglected notes.
Ink bleeding in sporadic shapes,
lines of fatigue that never begin or end.

Faint melodies
trickle through the crisp
autumn leaves, vibrantly yellow against
dark, damp bark,
distantly elegant, distantly cheerful.

Winter winds whistling,
sharp and painful,
hurt, most definitely
torn arguments and shredded papers
and tears and grief and hope and defeat and anger and frustration.

And suddenly,
nothing.

I’m just trying to get some sleep.

You heard I am a rose laced with ice
You’ve heard right but will you sacrifice
The glorious bounty that is your life
And cut open your shadow with your knife.

There is no punctuation in this story,
We are going to live till our souls get weary.
‘For better, for worse’ is not a myth,
You must stay even if I become a witch.

To be with me, there is no grey
Only black or white or stay at bay.
Love me entirely and don’t let me fall
Or shun me completely and don’t ever call.

Before we fall in love, you must be warned;
We’ll stroll into flames to crumble as one.
In that moment, our love shall not clash;
As two burnt roses become one gust of ash.

Dear exams,

      I'm sorry to say, but I've lost all interest in you. I don't see why I didn't
lose interest in you sooner to be completely honest. I use to love learning
new things and cramming useless information into my cranium, but I must
say that forcing myself to study to pass your standards is just not who I am.There's no need to throw a question I cannot answer in my face whenever you're upset. Nor do I have to explain myself to you for that matter. Has anyone told you you ask a lot of questions?

      I must admit that I am not perfect, but neither are you. You are filled
with errors and flaws that I must say are simple mistakes. I will always
remember you, but I don't think my memory of you will be a fond one...
I am grateful for all the support you've given me especially with my
grades, but I will admit that understanding you was difficult. I remember
hopelessly thinking about you all night after seeing you. I felt terrible
because I literally had no idea how to go about answering your fifty
questions. Even though you gave me choices it was still a difficult decision
to make. I went home that night disappointed thinking that I had messed
up my only chance with you.

      But now you're back, but I admit I am definitely not excited about it.
And I will see you again today, which like I said I am not excited about. I
guess that all we can ever be now is acquaintances. A student to exam
relationship that definitely bares no love what so ever. I cannot wait to be
done with you. As they say, there are a million exams in the library...
And they should all be thrown away.

P.S: The paper shredder was looking for you.

                                                                                      Sincerely,
                                                                                        The unhappy student

I met a girl with flowers in her hair
not a crown or a clip, but cherry blossoms
they bloomed from her ears and her scalp and the hollow of her neck
she was a garden of eden

I met a girl with flowers in her hair
and roots that ran all the way down through her feet
they never held her in place
instead, they made the earth upon which she stood her home

I met a girl with flowers in her hair
who let summer sunbeams catch her eyes
as they glistened among ferny tendrils
until the autumn came

Give someone a compliment today, post it, say it to someone in real life, but compliment someone today! :) if you do post one, tag it as ##complimentday.

Compliments to Ryn, you're concrete poems are amazing! Honestly, they are so well structured, and the poem itself is beautiful alongside the splendid shape that goes along with it. ^^

.
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but
               unbound...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
     colours.
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of
               painters...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
          genres.
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...

There is life in the blood.
And so the reason why we cut,
Is so all the bad and sad bits of life
Can just flow out of us.