Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
She says he's Siamese
I swear to god I've seen him read
The newspaper that layers his floor
It tells him the enemy and let's him know the saviour
He's learning humanities faults and failures
I can hear the cats talking loudly late at night in there native tongue
Debating if this is the place to be
There only evidence is the propaganda forced into where they sleep
Everytime I picked up a pen I felt progress
And everytime it touched paper the weight of my world had been lifted
Always drawn back to the top of my snare drum
Where I wrote most of my art
Resting on a A4 note pad, trying to figure out the best way to express both my head and my heart
They've always been so far apart
Tuned to different frequencies
But I'll try my best to broadcast both parts
These tears are a minor leak
I felt overfilled like the bathtub
With the drain as it's only release Still plugged up but some droplets found a dramatic way to make a exit
My blood pours faster, it doesn't wait for doors to open up, just the slightest break in skin
Cuts under sleeves are easier to hide than red eyes
I want to scream
But this is all I've got right now
This is all that remains of the flood
I used my emotions to channel this
I play the drums when the neighbours are gone
Because my bedroom walls are paper thin
We live arm to arm
But not hand in hand
And I don't want them drumming back
When my note pads full and my wallets empty
And I've used all the plain sides of all my mother's letters
If I draw on the walls
Do you think she'll mind?
Do you reckon it'll add value?
If she literally takes my life
Call me Vincent
Van Gogh for short
Notorious after I'm gone
Art's a risk I'll after take
Just a mash of momentary madness
I try to create motivation and inspiration with the words I put in lines
Referencing bands in my work
That have helped me through hard times
Hoping one day I can give back
Has they've given to me
A memorial of sorts
Everytime you read my thoughts
Listen to the records I adored and try work me out
I held reasons in my lungs
that needed birth, tears in a pillow case that needed to be heard
But engulfed by  medicine
That I was told would help
Things not get any worse
My emotions were dulled
Every four to eight hours
But the reason I was here
Was because I couldn't express the feelings that made me want to leave
The Gods offered
A blessing of sorts
To live a favourite day over and over til the sun engulfs everything man made
Or to live out your mortal days
The choice chosen was the former
Waking up the next morning to her boyfriend
And a meal and meet up with her friends down at the petting farm
The pattern continued for 20 days and 20 nights forgetting her past each time she opened her eyes
Never learning from her mistakes
The people
The essence of the perfect day
Started to wilt and fade
Not sustainable for a world where the calendar never turned
And craved the unavoidable
Movement forward
If all the emotions and feelings I create
Can be represented by colours
When all the paint
Runs away from this A4 slate
I should be left with Gold
Because my mind has been set
And I don't plan to settle for anything less
Zoe Mae Jan 2018
Shapeless like a monster in the sky
Tilted like a glass eye
Howling like a creature at the moon
Reaching for my spoon

All I ever wanted
Was to be a silver bride
And to hope he doesn't notice
The dead girl at his side
All I ever needed
Was the will to be baptized
So they could rinse me of my failures
In the waves of a red tide

Faceless like a stranger in the night
Clutching my heart tight
Hiding like a vampire from the sun
Reaching for my gun

All I ever wanted
Was to be a purple bride
And we could have the little funeral
On a crumbling mountainside
All I ever needed
Was the will to be chastised
Then I could wash away my suffering
In the waves of a red tide
Life isn't a enemy to anyone
But the dead
Next page