Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Martin Boško Apr 14
Have you ever felt
Like an alien being
Planted amongst men?
SerenaDuru Apr 13
Why is it that it is when I am most alone, I feel most present?
I feel like an alien on Earth. I do not understand how I was birthed here.

My home is beyond my physical state, my home is beyond my emotions, and even my desires. My home is where none of those things could dream to reach, in all their perversity and incapability. I will not hurry from Earth, but I do know that this does not even slightly resemble my home.

How blessed I am to know what I am not.
Sometimes I really do feel like an alien in my own skin,
Like I could twist and turn, transform and try,
All the years of my life and still not get it right.
I don't know who made it that way.
Couldn't tell you where the notion developed,
Or who proved to be truth before I did.
I don't know which artist created this outline,
Sketched it in ink, and entitled it a lifestyle -
One I once dared not color outside the lines of.

But I figure, if I cannot be a Mona Lisa of a painting,
I could be a more original, less world reknown piece
Because the regard of outside perspectives is less important
Than the quality of art produced in me.
Maybe I've been too focused on the colors already on the palette,
Instead of the mountains of shades I could imagine.
Maybe the skin I wear is black, like mourning, like darkness,
But these shadows make it possible to appreciate light.
Maybe the issue isn't me. Maybe I just need a new canvas,
One that resembles my possibilities and not my limitations.
One that allows room for breath, and exploration, and mistakes -
That isn't stifled with labels, or schemes, or systems.
And maybe I have to create that for myself.

Sometimes, I really do feel like an alien in my own skin,
But that doesn't make it any less mine,
Nor any less worthy of love.
And maybe I can love this martian without having all the answers,
Or even a planet or plane to belong to.
Maybe the person behind the pen, or pencil, or paintbrush, is me,
If I decide to be.
eden Jan 12
perhaps i am simply
not of this world

maybe i was
born on venus
or even saturn
perhaps i came into
on one of it's rings
or what if i am from neptune
or one of the
fourteen moons
surrounding it
the blue planet
encompassed with
the hydrogen
the helium
the methane
in the atmosphere

what i am used to
is an environment where
i can't breathe
maybe i like toxins
maybe i like chemicals
because i feel comfortable
being exposed to them
constantly bordering
along the thin lines
that seem to
beauty and chaos

the earth is not
my home
alienated on this planet
i rest and reset as the sun
moves through the sky
i move through my days
and they feel
repetitive to say the least

i wish i was born here
but i don't think
i have ever felt more
out of my body

what if i was not formed
on any planet
maybe i don't even exist
at all

a void in and of itself

i may just be a sad
and empty
never ending
black hole
Kaliya Skye Jan 10
your all seeing eye; my skeleton key
a desire to hide, met with longing to seek
the world is our playground,
we're no longer kids
swallow me down, til the meds can kick in

is this what you wanted?
can you take it all in?
an angel not fallen,
but pushed into sin?

you're carving crop circles
into my skin,
if i'm all thats left,
then shall we begin?
Arrow Jan 6
Some days
I simply don't exist

My body moves
But I'm far away

I text with friends
But my mind is elsewhere

I eat and drink
But I'm still empty

I show emotion
But I feel nothing

I have a reflection
But I don't recognise them

I'm still me
But I'm not
Kaliya Skye Nov 2020
i want to sound like you
so self-assured on this hazy morning
the way you use your words as i
stumble through apologies

and your hand
brushes my knee
— and all at once
i am so aware of my own breathing

i took a rest here because i couldn't sleep
but you could talk to me all day


if i promise not to say a word
will you stay here?
butter-voiced lullabies
guarded by apathetic tendencies
sipping from a world's best mug

lay with me and ask me
what i see in the clouds
my eyes are closed, and i paint you
a picture of us dancing up there
but when i awake you are gone
leaving me with a daisy chain
and a back ache

and maybe this is why i stay up
at least i know when you're going

there were no clouds in the sky today
i'm sorry i couldn't pay attention
maybe the sky is too bright for me
to feel like i belong

but my bed is the void of space
and it is too big for me now
it's lonely to think we're the only
intelligent life out here


i feel so alone, we just might be.

i feel so alone, we just might be.
i feel so alone, we just might be.
Next page