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chichee Feb 5
I once wrote an essay about falling in love as
Biology’s grandest trick
The truth is I've always wanted to meet someone I'd fling myself off buildings for.

I just didn't think I could survive the crash landing.
Bit generic, trying to post more often but uni's finally kicking in.
Shea Jan 27
I sit in the back seat
Dealing, with such a
Gut wrenching feeling.

My mom is in another car,
On the way to the airport.
A game of sorts,
You gotta play with the law.
**** up, and you could lose it all.

You could say "**** 12"
But you don't really feel that hate
Until you or your friends are in cuffs.
You could say you miss someone,
But you don't feel that pain
Until you won't ever see them again.

I'm lucky I know,
I'll see you again.
We're lucky, we know
We could be in permanent cuffs.
Till then, we hold our breath
And pray he won't be.
Tiger Striped Jan 20
how indignantly

human hearts have hammered

pounding our fists

in the air

against the wall

across the years

raising our voices

until we rasp,

struggling valiantly,

to carry out our each and every end.

alas, we shift a balance

that will never weigh entirely in our favor

we castigate the society

that we comprise

waiting, demanding, crying

for our fellow citizens

to liberate themselves from their terrible ignorance

how dare they look on with such apathy!

yet latent affections lie dormant

under our doormats

where we sweep them

to be trampled underfoot, day after day

for we have found, choice issues

are better handled by the foot

than by the mouth.

yet still our mouths continue to shout

over the protests of their counterparts

their fuel, our hasty hearts.

we exist in a state of hypocrisy, as it is

none of us above the other

we ride our flighty opinions

into clouds of superiority, perhaps some of us

above reason.

here we cannot be touched

by opposition or criticism

and from our lofty elevation

we aim to shape the earth.
Shea Jan 19
I did myself today
Woke up and felt okay
I did myself today
Stood up and put on perfume
I did myself today
Walked out and felt okay
I did myself today
Broke down and made this..song
Lyrics to a song I recorded. If you want the full lyrics just comment below, not that anyone would.
Shea Jan 17
"Living life like
Russian roulette with an automatic."

You're gonna leave,
I hate you for that,
But I love you for it too.
I'm gonna miss you,
God..I'll miss you so much.

Until then,
And most likely after,
I'll live life
Like I'm spinning a cylinder
With the Reaper.
Stark Dec 2018
a wise eyed cynic
head full of rational thought
ignored by his only friend

as i descend into madness,
will you be my Horatio?
standing through it all
with the utmost clarity?

Oh, to be Horatio
as your closest friends are dragged into the clutches of insanity
shakespearean bffs, pt 1
Lauren M Nov 2018
Oh look, here’s another artist.
Nostalgic since birth and obsessed with their own mortality,
counting what is worth noticing before we are all exiled, cut
off from our own bodies.
Yes, we all know what’s coming, sh.
It’s all been heard before, all been seen.
So don’t raise your voice with worn out warnings,
dry as wind whispering through desert caves,
you are echoing the trumpets
that have sounded since the beginning of time.

Now here comes a lover coated in gleaming delusion,
confident in the supreme uniqueness of her experience,
asserting that no,
you cannot possibly know what it is like.
This is different.
        And when it falls apart, the uproar!
        The injustice of it! The tragedy!
        and the loneliness,
        as if no one else had ever felt rejection,
        as if no one else had ever discovered
        that love is painful and reductive.
        Disillusioned and duped she wonders why
        there were no warnings. Imagine!
        Living in this world and not hearing warnings,
        or hearing them and having the arrogance to say no,
        it does not apply to me,
        you cannot possibly know.

And now the green poet floats by,
driven on by spring breezes and the color of wildflowers.
Wide-eyed but never quite struck dumb,
he gawks and wonders and wishes,
plucking detail from gulls’ wings and leaves’ veins,
gamely trying to translate and bankrupting the dictionary every time,
saying “this is beautiful” over and over,
not unlike a tourist.
And like a tourist disappearing
before he sees the bleak and desperate side,
the side that rears it’s head with hungry eyes
and regards you as a stranger.

But still, to create something that absorbs all that people say about it.
To become something like that, finally.
Maybe … it is still worth something?

But no,
time to time, there has been time. Time
for the sun to rise and set,
and for the stars to be born and then burn out. Time
to hear the rise and fall of a thousand stories,
and a thousand more. Time
to be filled with curiosity and questions. Time
to stop asking questions. Time
to see the same patterns again and again. Time
for new patterns, but with the same trite components. Time
to say all that is worth saying, and more.
Much more.
The same voices, the same faces,
the same conversations, again.
The contrast getting grayer, going soft.
And once again all these young people
using their superlatives, investing everything right away,
saying “this is important.”
Children who believe the best and worst things
that have ever happened
are happening now.

Is it problematic to say I find my own heartbeat cliché?
Even the rise and fall of my chest as I breathe
exasperates me. It’s been done before,
it’s all been done before.
This is why I will never point at anything and say
“this is something.”
Nor will I say who I am or who you are.
I leave you to your own **** assumptions.
awknight Nov 2018
Twins, two of one face
Spinning across time
Past workings of innate fate
Force shut the bleeding eyes
Black under the light of the night
Warmth runs between the other’s fingers
Blood anxiously circling around itself
Find home in its cooling on the skin
Must pull open the lids to find the irises
and they fall like pedals into folding palms
A crushing weight.  

I am free again
Her eyes are gone
The blood is drained
Face disintegrates  

She drags her bones across my flesh
internally I ache,
but the irises imbedded into palms
give me fight and take away fear
of her resurrection.
we all have that one part of ourselves we want to keep dead
Anya Sep 2018
“It’s in your blood”
This phrase irritates me
To an extent because
We build
All his hype around
Birth
And blood
Legitimate
Iligetamate
But,
In the end
Aside from appearance
Certain genetic qualities
Maybe some personality traits
You’re a produce of your environment
“Birth parents”
“Legitimate child”
As long as there’s love in the relationship
Does it even matter?
Basically, my inner cynic let lose. If you have more experience in this matter and disagree with me feel free to shoot me a comment or message. I’m just letting out the thoughts in my head and I’d love to understand if someone else has a different view.
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