I vividly remember the nights
You spent by my side
But you never spent nights
You only spent a couple of hours
As if the parking meter
Would be running out soon
Minimal conversation
And oh how I tried
But it always led to you
Pushing onto me
You pulled, grabbed, and moaned
As I laid there mimicking
The noises I know
You've listened to
And lusted for
Since you were young
And that's what's so wrong with today
I have been taught to be used
And you have been brainwashed
With media of false love
Yet we continue to give in
We accept outwardly what we are given
But inwardly reflect otherwise
Because every night after you left
I took what was left of me
And washed all of your touch away
The running hot water
Replaced the warmth I longed for
What you would not provide
And I know you're in the past
And I know this shit can happen
But I just can't help but remember
And play it all over and over again

BSeuss Jul 10

The worst
Place to be
On a battle field,
Is taking cover
From the man
Firing at you with
Blank rounds.

(Title edited. Didn't notice)
D Holden Jul 4

He pretends.
The essence of this game is knowledge.
Capability knowingly imitated through bluff,
a sleight of hand and a nodding mask.

Nouse is the paint on the mask he wears,
yet the paint fades quickly.

Eiram N Jun 29

There is nothing         more tasteless
   than the sweet nothings        you      
gloss me over
               like icing on a vile
          honeysuckle cake
already--
                                             --burnt

These days there are many things I want to write, but so little I feel a need to say. Thanks for reading my little poems! <3
Riot Jun 24

please come back

this time i’ll remember to forget who i was when you aren’t here.
i’ll come as you want me to.

Eleni Jun 13

Your life knows no answer
When you spend your nights
By the sea- beaming your woes to the
Sympathetic waves of reality.

You try to ponder on the future
That was securely balanced on the
Wings of a fallen Angel. But her feathers have shedded black and she
Lives in an obsidian fable.

Do you remember? Under the November Luna which lit an ambience on those reckless lips;
Which still had the repelling aroma of beer and strong spirits.

But just for now- let's meld- become one with the Night Deity, banquet our fates and lost hopes on the false promises of our doomed reveries.

I'll gift you the white feather, the silver and striped pelts of your savagery. I'll pleasure you by saying nothing...

...but you can work out the rest. The demise of your damsels in distress.

So after you have finished feasting on the succulent hearts of your romantic, haughty slaves- you are no longer welcome to the tribe of the brave.

It is not a sin, nor a taint of reputation;
Oh, it is an act of naivity and damnation. I submit, I'll be your green-eyed monster.
But I cannot succumb to resent forever.

So my life knows no answer
But atleast I will thrive through the thick, smog of your lies and fallacious treasures.
Go back to your rakish zoo, your spirits, your hallucinations:
Sink back into your vast carelessness.

But as for me, I will be born back into the sanguine wilderness


And lurk in the umbra.

Ryan Holden Jun 7

He squeezes her shape into a suit that fits
But happily disregards the ones that don't,
As every material or materialistic item
Is merely just temporary clothing he wears for his comfort.

Her silky waist down and up to her cotton flammable heart,
Both burn and tear just as easy as the next,
Despite his sweet persona,
He's as bitter and acidic as chemistry gone wrong.

But he washes and rinses her into a wave of hope,
And she drowns,
Because she has been habituated to drowning.

Cold bones is her love,
But he always glides away like a ghost in the night,
Questioning whether he bleeds the same blood,
Because is it humanly possible to do the things he could.

She has dreamt of his silhouette all night
But is unable to see the whole faded image,
The silence has become part of her,
You clipped the angel wings she would bare just for you
And is no longer able to fly.

Instead she drowns in an ocean that you quaked,
Suffocated on an island of crashed cold bones,
Cold, cold bones.

Even when she was the soldier
That never fled from battle,
You made her the brute
With a machine heart and machine mind,
Steered from her innocence
And tenderness to be kind.

As promised! Just a quick writen whilst on my lunch break at work! Haha.
Ryan Holden Jun 6

A fresh lick of paint
Is applied to these houses
That are so far and few
In between.

Just like deception
And lies that are covered
Up to steal another life force
For your benefit.

But you don't think I see
The transparency of your ways,
I've seen your type before
Succubus of stone hearts.

You reap and haunt
The dreams of innocence,
Men who are so happy
To be loved and to be whole.

But that's your favourite trick,
Once they're yours, you disappear,
As you siphon liquid gold
And purity from trapped souls.

Trapped in an endless cycle
Of doubt and hope,
But they still hold onto
The woman they once knew.

If that woman ever existed.

A poem about women who use men. I've seen this many times in my life and thought I'd give it a quick go!
Ryan Holden Jun 6

Does your mouth
Lead you towards ease,
Like your mind blindly thinks.

Does your thought process
Consider or weigh options
Of passing weeks or months.

Do you feel remorse
Or sympathy as you cast
Spells of aspersions headed.

Do you even know
The reason why you chose
Me instead of the other options.

Do you even care
That you hurt me more,
Than you'll ever know.

But do I care enough
To explain how you
Wrongly accused me?

I guess we'll never know.

Just a quick write.

Through the light of day,
I see over the mountains,
I see the rich colours around me,
I see the vibrancy,
I see the light of day itself.

Is it really that pure?

So instead I wait for night.

I can’t see past the mountains, but why look?
Empty colours surround me.
I don’t see the filter; the alleged purity.

Overwhelmed, the context assaults me.
Darkness lances into me.
I yell. I writhe -

in my bleeding innocence, await salvation. “Saviour!” He escapes me.

“The light of day will save.”

I see the purity thrust itself down in beams.
I see the warmth on my body.
I see the good people.
But still, I see no succour.

I decide not to see, but to look.

I look for the humanity in purity, only blemishes are forthcoming.

Humanity, you have failed me.

Copyright © Sibastien

Often, we see the world from a falsified, optimistic perspective opposed to her true colours, and when we do finally see them, they're quite scary.
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