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Solar Apr 29
There is a lovely green lotus

unfolding from the center of his eye,

as if the iris that looks upon my desperate body

is the darkened water from which it sprouts...
Ash Young Jan 30
brainless shuffle
c r a w l i n g

fog lifts.

tingling fingers
gut drop (you have one of those now)

look up,
knife to chest
the seasons passed without you.

and just like that you can mourn the end of love.
too bad it took you a year
i'm feeling it
the drift
a wedge
i'm draining
no one hears it,
an empty void
pure desolate silence
i don't want to stay
“nobody cares”
so why should i?
the idiosyncratic facade
fazing everyone
compressing everything within
yet i feel so hollow
Arya Noel Mar 2021
I've become so convincing in the role of myself,
I'm starting to believe it's actually me.
Nathan MacKrith Jan 2021
This is not my skin
I will not, can not fit in
suited for some other guy
Left here to wonder why

Why the hand-me-downs
a shortage of cosmic gowns
too many orders in my size
a flood seeking my prize

To find which is my skin
have what’s out match within
a fit made perfect right
no pinching not too tight

chafing ended the tightrope
walker’s life scratched hope
for feeling something without
ends in a flight of doubt

I am sure this is not my skin
they tell me doubt’s a sin
well king of sinners am I
watch my eternal life die

ever wonder where I belong
on which fork turned wrong
where direction unravelled
took a path well-travelled

By those in others’ skin
outside differs from within
wearing the suit of some guy
merchandise we did not buy

stand here middle of the road
burdened by my heavy load
left here to wonder why
my eye cannot find I

Aye, this is not my skin
a shell I try to fit in
like a hermit crab’s shell
my personal little hell

flames fan desire to know
where did my true self go
for surely there is another
my misplaced other

who also feels within
“this is not my skin”
I wonder how, wonder why
I cannot trade with that guy

Left here to wonder why
suited for some other guy
I will not, can not fit in
this is not my skin.
Solar Nov 2020
The clouds float with a sense of melancholy this day,
leaving a lingering sensation of unease echoing below
the well of my insomnia.

The eclipse has cast a dulling shade upon my adulthood.
Where I once felt the ember of passion,
there now lays bare a garden of wilting lavender
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