Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
A feeling of beautiful vulnerability and embarrassment dripping down the length of your spine, focused to a float in your chest and a cloud around your neck gently reminding you of wisp-blank intangibility.. it's that feeling of vacuous shame you had as a teenager after ******* when you had to sit and eat and face your parents dinner, and so you sat in afterglow of cloudy sadness as if all could see but the ache of that shame was a wet wet drip-facet alone in grandmas warm house after everyone's asleep you can see the lights of a ski hill in distance-- that lonely place the soul keeps peeking out of and right now it's so beautiful and you can't face a face but ******* the drip wet wet makes you feel alive-- .. it's an openness out of which a flow of melancholy creeps into the solar plexus and jiggles around in your stomach like liquid in a water balloon.. it is the ache of wholeness and the writer of poetry, an angelic potential to death and a demonic potential to life.. existence is wet, soaking beauty and a sadness inseparable from happiness.

This is your brain on fire. This is your brain at peace.
 Feb 2014 sinderella
Satsuki
I take a cigarette out of the pack
Flip it over and put it back
I don't even smoke
And I'm too broke
To try and start
But there's this feeling in my heart
Of loneliness and I'm scared
But this nicotine makes me feel like someone cares
So I puff and listen to the sounds of the city
Wishing I felt pretty
Like the lights that dance on the asphalt
And I know it's my fault
That I feel this way
But there's too much I need to say
To get out of this black hole
& I'm not sure I have enough strength in my soul
Filled with smoke and nicotine
And I'm barely eighteen
And I don't know if I can live a lifetime like this
Completely and utterly emotionless
 Feb 2014 sinderella
September
i wish i could close my eyes to the ghosts that haunt me
whose sting feels like sleeping with contacts in
and having nightmares about the words she said

both of which make me wake up
with red eyes—and
pupils made of
ghost.
I slept with my contacts in again.
 Feb 2014 sinderella
LoveLy
Reality has a ugly face,
Long nose to poke her way into my business,
large eyes to find my every flaw.
Her lips always so small and so pursed but when she opens
it seems to become wider and she gets loud with her evil voice.
Reality is an ugly thing, with fingers long; to point,
and nails as sharp as knives to drive into my back.
She wears a robe of pure disgust.


Though reality be a ugly woman
and she hurts me with all her ways,
Reality can not effect me in my dreams.
In my dreams reality is so far away.
Her words can't touch my castle.
Nor can her weapons penetrate my heart here...

The sanctuary of my dreams can only last me for the night.

Reality is  an ugly thing.
In a peculiar, far off, world, time and place,
The trivial past would be irrelevant, chased away then erased.
Contrary to the reality of distorted lies in front of my face,
These eyes cannot mask fraudulence or disgrace.
Chasing them down with a trace of a defaced case of toxic waste,
I pace as my thoughts race of the time that’s left until I dissipate.
Looking into the murky vase with dying flowers desperate to be replaced,
Misplaced to the one who’d obliterate the beauty I once embraced.

Within my sorrow I woke, shattered love replaced with a heart no longer broke.
Soaked with what I could never cope, I felt passion and choked on my once false hope.
This vision evoked a note; a call of duty for you, my eternity to devote.
Instinctively I knew, the words stuck in my throat, but blindly every incline eventually has a *****.
Surrounded by mirrors shielded with smoke,
As we stared we shared yet nothing we spoke.
Your presence was felt but disguised with a cloak,
Confined in your skin, comfortably lost afloat, for your soul I searched to perpetually stroke.

With blurred vision I envisioned, stood silent, anxious of your condition,
Division of indecision was nothing less than your frightened inquisition.
A hallucination on a mission of who was out to hurt you with consistence,
I understood as you tried to piece together the suspicion of our composition.
Guarded and in position to react upon intuition then the smoke disappeared and you saw our reflection.
No longer was my presence an imposition now in recognition you accepted the ignition of a united evolution.
Successful revision disposed internal superstition,
Our collision created a premonition for our future decisions of precision.

The past’s paths we chose were restricted to our addiction and careless indifference,
The assistance of negative influence stripped us of our innocence.
Blood shot eyes, negligence of appearance, abstracted resistance only creating distance.
Ambiguous and inexperienced, taking shots and hits in an instance,
Distorted images, lacking clarity, the abuse of substance left an absence of existence.
Building tolerance whilst sabotaging resilience, guilty and unable to admit repentance,
Without a witness, secret and safe, no justice to serve and no one to listen.
A mission incomplete and persistent,
We continue to envelope in our disappearance.

In the seam of my sickness I submerge within these contaminated nerves,
Fearing the silence with thirst not to be disturbed,
But absurdly I yearned your unhealthy and perplexed words to be heard,
My tender nature reserved an exclusive place to keep you conserved,
Unstable but concerned I’d preserve you like an herb,
I slurred for forgiveness but observed perhaps this was my turn,
But with your freedom you turned away and flew away like a bird.
Now relentless and pure I burn the surface of my figure, no intent to return.

Yet once we were young, wild and free,
Conducting our train with no fear of where we’d soon be,
The sweet breeze guaranteed the destination with ease,
Imagination without knowledge, amid glee and degree,  
We’d dive and rise above the salty sea,
Later meet beneath that tree with belief the starry sky we’d seize,
Through the debris you still held in your hand the key,
And we’d conquer our dreams, what we sought and believed.

But as I’ve grown within my questioning dome,
My home of stones has nothing to be shown,
Prone to disown my weakened skin and bones,
Candidly I pacify the clone I’ve never known.
In hopes to be flown far ahead of this zone,
I’d hover above in a whispering tone, draining my disease as it’s blown.
My soul will glisten and roam, looking down at my new golden throne,
As I’ve postponed to recognize the beauty of the Earth & my own – No longer shall I be alone.
With honesty
hiding under that
Big breathe filling both cheeks
That you can’t seem to
Fully exhale through
Tucked between
Two shaking hands
As you realize
Your power
To change the world

With vulnerability,
Just behind that
Wall Of fear that you can
Unlock
By meeting someone eyes
And simply letting them
Love you.
It’s there
In that moment
Of admittance You're not
Invincible
And allow a
Loving hand
To help guide you
Through

With Forgiveness,
Of the woman
Who told you
You couldn’t,
The dad
That chose alcohol
Over you,
The girl
In middle school
That had you hiding
In the bathroom stall
Crying to your mom

With Christ,
Who has felt
It all
Gives you
A place
Where you’ve always belonged
Of love
Courage,
And Strengrh.
Healing,
Redemption,
And understanding.
your eyes never close
your brain won't stop thinking
bags under your eyes
sanity slowly sinking

your life loses hope
you find hope in dreams
since you have no dreams
its hopeless it seems

your skin has gone pale
your eyes have gone red
you're sick day and night
might as well be dead

someday you'll sleep
never to wake
but until that day
there will always be ache

its a sad reality
you must conclude
its also one
you sadly cannot elude

night after night
you "go to sleep"
a pointless endeavor
you don't sleep a peep

insomnia
is a hard way of life
though you're not really living
you're watching the knife
slowly cut you to shreds
nothing to comfort you
not the pillows or beds

so you sit and you weep
you can curse and you can moan
but this is your life
and its your life alone
 Feb 2014 sinderella
Dánï
How does it feel to lose yourself,
To feel yourself oozing through your pores and pouring into a shell?

These restless nights are deviously common,
My eyes have gone dry, no more bawling.

I lay here and wonder how did I miss the dead end,
Why did I sprint so purposely with no message to send?

These days you feel ashamed of the right, proud of the wrong.
My thoughts race, there's no time to process them,
I don't think they belong..

I swear I try my hardest to make you all proud,
I gave up, it's hard when you feel all alone in a crowd.

These people don't deserve me, you, us.
You and I confide in them and they ruin our non-resilient trust.

When you're alone, who's there to disappointment and vice versa?
Who's there to make you feel small and destroy ya?
No one

-d.***
The first time you told me you loved me
I was drunk out of my mind, we were lying in bed and you were hiding the fact that you felt anything towards me from your friends.
You walked me home,
Helped me change into fresh clean clothes,
Tucked me in bed.
I love you…
But you were saying that to somebody else
Was it because I have a habit of only saying the truth when I'm drunk?
was it the beauty in the moment where our skin was touching?
or that the house was quiet?
The voices in my head were silenced by your presence
You didn't even kiss me that night
You didn't want me to think that you were taking advantage of me.
You held me,
Comforted me,
Told me that I was the most beautiful girl in the world
That nobody has made him feel this way
You told me that I meant the world to you and that you can't live if I'm not with you
I guess you're dead now.
Next page