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Mind Matterer Apr 26
Head placed upon the middle of your pillow,
leaving a circular dent surrounding it-
Your pigtails on the side,
tied in pink and red bows.

An attire of frilly, cotton, pyjamas,
tainted with dainty flowers-
a total of 32 spastically placed.

Memories
Filled with frills and pixie dust,
along with the shards of glass
-lined with blood.

Thinking back,
On the beauty of the moments,
Of the innocence that once filled your mind-
gently placed upon the pillow
lined with delicate lace,
beneath your frail, fazed face.
Alexis Jun 2017
Reborn into this skin of a warrior. Past these birthmarks and moles are stories of the warriors battle scars. You ask me why my heart aches out of my chest, yet this is just my battle cries. Dancing in the flame, though I won't let the devil submerge me. Drowning into obis of my pasts regrets. Dainty ink marked my skin with the things this little girl never said. When I absorb them into my shoulder they no longer felt so dainty. Biting my lip made a metal taste absorb into my tastebuds memory and it felt almost like revenge of my enemies.
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Ah! how the memory of

those pretty green eyes

enlighten my senses

making them parallel to

round ***** of safety.



Ah! how those eyes

regurgitate and bounce

pupils widening whenever

my eyes meet their gaze

wavering and moving from

person to person in an intimate crowded group setting.



Ah! how those eyes

which resemble soft moss

or the slick flesh of kiwis

stare at mine catching like how

flypaper catches mosquitoes

accidentally but intentionally

awkwardly but inventively

and ultimately intentionally.



Ah! how the memory of

those pretty green eyes

throw me off balance

when they lock into mine

and for a good ten seconds

merging a little too long

unnoticed by the crowd.


Ah! how those eyes

are like ghosts in my

memories so valid and

plausible they seem to

drift yet knowing they

will be seen tonight

creates a fidgety hope

splintered and shaking

within this hubris heart.



Ah! how those eyes

are framed by the

curliest of lashes

so cute they bloom

ripe smiles within this

here empty chest cavity

which seems to be defeated

at the moment but somehow

waiting to witness

orbs of stegosaurus skin

shelled and shellacked and unbuckled am i

at just a smack.



Ah! how those eyes

are like a slap

to my psyche.

Every part a swirling mass

of unabridged uncertainty.

And no matter how it seems

those irises of gold and green

will always be downright dainty.
Crimsyy Sep 2016
The sequel to "Heavenly"

The rest of us
will decompose here,
but now you have purpose,
the muse behind my verses,
forget fairytale curses;
you* will never die,

So place me underground,
darling you will still be
safe and sound,
up above from here
I see who you are,
but they are all below,
below your worthiness,
dainty star,

On the eve of the day
when I'm mourned by the fakes,
they'll be praying for my amazing grace,
but it'll be too late,

There's no spot in a dead heart
for those who tore it apart,
and my monsters will cover your
sunshine and they'll **** your spark,
I'll wish I could be there,
Ten thousand tears wait to be spared,
I promise I cared,
I just never shared
all my hurtings, and now
they've killed me,

I will beg to have you released,
I'll beg on my knees for
all the darkness to leave you
and entertain *me
,
But I'm afraid to fully dive,
Don't know how far I could drive,
Metaphorically, I'm at the shore
I don't know what I'm drowning for.
hfallahpour Jun 2016
Watch where you step
you may smash a dainty heart as a glass
The owl and the ***** cat
Were out having tea
After a simple beach side walk

The owl took out a guitar
And sang to kitty brash, kneeled
Before her Crimson chair

A sweet  romantic ballad it was
Yet ***** cat was too busy
Observing  owl and noticing
What a dainty meal he'd make.

Interrupting his declarations
She stole him away
Under the starry  midnight  sky

Whereupon in the woods
Her claws she unsheathed
And silenced his poetic  *display
//I just felt like this (funny poem for funsies)- inspired by the owl and the pussycat
PS Jun 2015
Gypsy Rose Lee.
Is that you or me?
Does that make you Baby June?

The favourite and best
No concern for the rest
You sing and you dance in the tune.

Or just like Gypsy
You learn how to strip tease
The glamour and glitz of the night.

But who's mama Rose?
And how could I know?
She pushes and leads to a fight.

But Gypsy is magic
And a rare art form
And June is so dainty
Doesn't know when she's born
She's the centre of attention
She's the first one who speaks
And Gypsy is left there
Still being Louise.

Chow mein and lambs
Travel the land
A show on vaudeville stage.

Let me entertain you
Let me have a try too
Honey, were you not entertained?
Has anyone ever seen the movie/musical Gypsy? Well I love it!
I am a
Porcelain doll
Cracked and fragile

I am not a
Princess
Living in a castle

I am damaged
and imperfect

I am not happy
I don't have a tiara

I am sad
I have scars
Amy H Mar 2015
A butterfly is beautiful until you feel you're sly,
moving close to touch her wings,
and then she may not fly.
But on her feet is magic that makes one flower,
two....
Disturbing the dainty butterfly
Means fewer blooms for you.
Wonder, gently.
I wrote this poem inspired by experience.  At the time I was reminded that my pop always used to say, "You can wonder and wonder, and you'll still never know."  I realized how much we hurt others when we make assumptions.
Roxxanna Kurtz Feb 2015
You;
you prey on pretty things.
Damaging innocent bows
and precious curls.
Dainty,
delicate,
*****.
You;
you ruin her.
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