Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Justin S Wampler Mar 2015
Green we've all been
at the start, without experience or sin.

Yellow becomes my skin
in the face of fear, or cancerous conditions.

Purple I throb in the din,
of context to the conversation we're in.
Love Mar 2015
I'm the *****,
the quiet girl in the front of the class,
according to the handicap stall in the upstairs boys bathroom, a ****.
I love, and when I do I love to no ends.
But you'd never know how much this ***** loves, because there is no love shown.
Kristica Feb 2015
i know i'm not smart
but for some reason i remember random details.
i have realized that everything in life has a cycle.
i recognize what phase i'm in and i hated it last time
and i hate it even more this time.
but i think i'm moving past it.

**so say goodbye to that chick that cared for everyone but herself. and goodbye to the one that was ruined. her time might not be up but i'm kicking her out.
i've noticed every time i become a "better person" or start to feel,, i only lose people in my life. and i'm sick of that ****. i'm back in control.

and for starters i'd like to say just one more time:
*******.
Donna Bella Feb 2015
Depravation
Deprived of the odds of our stars
Little ***** ****** me and left me
Depravation of the hard time rambling in my old mind
Past coming like the present time
Future dim with nine lines
My ***** ****** me on nylon
The depravation of my mind
Hard to think
Hard to swallow the deprived thoughts
I need some water give me some water
I'm deprived
Fidgety Midget Feb 2015
She's a Narcissistic *****,
I quite often call her the Witch
She ground a good man down
through her greed and selfish desires
she has no room for sympathy or compromise
if the outcome does not involve her.

Now that he is dead
She won't leave him be
and keeps slandering his memory
hate is too good a word for her
but my god I'd love to punch her
Ember Evanescent Feb 2015
I never really thought I’d see you again, to be honest.

I feel a little underdressed for the occasion.

There you are, wearing the same Hypocrisy you have worn for years and have seriously outgrown, but you wear it still.

Then here I am, in nothing but a worn out grudge, but hey, I tried to dress it up a little with some bitterness.

I think you and I were a little too similar, actually. Maybe that’s why we fell apart, because we were just too alike. That’s one of my scarier thoughts, but definitely not the scariest.

It isn’t an impossible theory, I guess. Though I think maybe it was more like we were two different sides of the same coin, but even if that’s true, we were a coin spinning out of control, cast off, and tossed, but not away, we were tossed into a wishing well, in the hopes that maybe the water could wash away the damage. I look through the waters we wished on every day, wondering if I’ll see you through the distorted, but transparent fluid that runs through our veins like poison because even if the ink of our promises that we wrote out on flesh, as  a binding contract found its way into those dark waters of our wishing well, even it could not be as toxic as that deadly liquid we doused our loyalty in, because it was made out of wishes, and though water shouldn’t be considered equivalent to venom, never underestimate just how lethal it is, because nothing is more poisonous than something that appears pure, but is just the opposite, and truthfully, that is all you proved yourself to be.

I look through those poisoned waters made of liquid wishes and tears, but I never see you there.

Your black eyeliner was quite a change from last time I saw you, because the last year, all you did was line your eyes with Pride and Pettiness, well I’ll watch you fade off into the shadows until you become one because I don’t care anymore.

I’ll raise my hand and spread my fingers to bid you farewell so I don’t need to speak because I can’t, I’m busy choking on fire, and the smoke is leaving its trail so that if you ever want to find me, you will just need to follow the trail of ashes so that I may slam the door in your face, facing up to the fact that sometimes, even if you don’t let it go, you can stop getting involved with the burden of the past, because it’s been passed on far too many generations of different versions of myself each year.

I’m starting a new chapter, and you just don’t deserve a role in it, so when I spread those fingers, maybe the cobwebs I couldn’t bring myself to sweep away will finally blow away in the wind. The wind that is nothing but a draft coming in through the door you left open when you left just to linger in my doorway for months, well I hope I slammed your fingers in the doorframe when I finally shut it on you. You’re still waiting in the window though, naturally.

Well, my Pain and yours are a couple shades off, and I’m sort of sick of matching you anyway, so I’ll draw the curtains too, because that’s the only way to let in natural light, when the artificial lamps are outside and the candles and burning suns are indoors, away from you, after all, how could anything bright exist near someone who exudes so much forced darkness such as you?

Well, I don’t match you anymore, and thank God for that, because I certainly would look even worse than you already do dressed in that color of Hypocrisy, and just keep in mind, even though I’m wearing these grudges trimmed with bitterness, and even though that might be a pretty unflattering look for someone like me, whose very skin is woven out of Broken shards, it’s only an accessory to remind me not to forget. I wear Memories, even though you gave them to me, even though we made the together, I still like them so sure I’ll wear them, but that doesn’t really matter, because with the burdens on my wrist, I can still wear Hope.

And you never, ever will.

So maybe I’m not underdressed for this little occasion, I’m just wearing something a little out of fashion, but Hope is comfy, and I like it so that’s fine by me.
so yeah...
This is about a Broken Frienship FYI
Maura Feb 2015
You're a real *****
just to let you know
and I don't want to snitch
but you're such a ******* *****

just  because you're rich
doesn't mean you own the world
you're making me go up a pitch
because I'm so angry that you're a *****

people call you a witch
and now I know why
its because you decide to switch
from being nice to a stupid ****** *****
Seriously. You are. This is a passive aggressive poem.
Valo Salo Aug 2014
Modern Up
Modern Down
Modern Art
Modern Clowns

Modern *******
Modern *****
Modern ******
Modern Creeps

Modern Life
Modern ****
Modern Truth
Modern Puke

Modern Lunch
Modern Kiss
Modern Views
Modern Hips

Modern Blood
Modern Brain
Modern Nothing
Modern Insane

Modern Hair
Modern Law
Modern Now
Modern Sick
David A Mastry Jan 2015
This morning when I did arise
not knowing peace in all
my many long years
another day under
the same dark gloomy skies
Not knowing relief since
I have since forth cried
and have cried a few million tears...

That what life is...
is tis a *****,
and being veritably the *****
it verilly be
is the ***** of it all
it's plain to see
nc
Next page