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Orion Jul 2019
seething venom dripping from the edges of my torn panting lips
i am familiar with its acidic taste and i lick it off my teeth
as though it were as sweet as the poisoned prose you fed to me
i am not a creature born of rage
but oh
if i did not thrive on the fact that i was so undeniably right
i
would
not
be
here

would i?


you know all too well that i would hunt down and bite the tongue from the man who did you wrong
but you would be terrified to know that i would watch his gurgling demise with triumph

do not misunderstand:

i would spit my prize and his blood into your gaping, screaming mouth
pin you down and tower over you
with my fangs bared so close to your throat
that i could nearly taste the heartbeat and the blood in your veins

drool spilling off of my chin and burning your skin
the smell of your singed flesh and your fear and my pride
just
like
the

r a b b i t

you
are.


i will forcibly eradicate the thought that i was too delicate from your mind--
you have been scared of me this entire time
too scared to drop me, to displease me
too scared to face the fact that i was a wolf living in a cracked eggshell
and that you took sick delight in pushing clay into crevasses that i was trying to escape from;

you held me like a sickly pup at arm’s length
not knowing what to do when i outgrew the cage you picked out for me
when the hackles started to bristle like goosebumps across my back
when hooded eyelids turned golden and


you should have been afraid of the fangs
that hid behind anxious words and knowing glances
instead of the stuttering and the overwhelmed mumbling;

you love monsters until
they
share
the
bed
with
you;


i am as quick to think as i am to wrap my hands around your throat;
i knew i knew i  k n e w
and you
ignored ignored i g n o r e d;


and now i weigh upon your ribcage
and you ***** the heart you tried to find upon your ***-stained shirt
regurgitated words never meant for me splashing onto my clawed fingertips


and i see nothing but my own mistakes reflected in your wide, unblinking eyes--
i forgot how beautiful my terrible form looked when i see it in the whites of someone’s eyes--
and what a shame i forgot for so long!

you never learned a thing,
did you?



you smell of **** and stink of many men’s claim on you
you have no regard for your own wellbeing
letting yourself get caught so painfully easily by any man holding lures of lustful pretty words

you give your heart to any man who promises to make you beg for more but
do you know how easy it would be to get you to beg
with a knife held to your throat?


if you want to die,
it will not be at my hands;
those  are to be soiled by my own sins and
not those of a

senseless

unthinking

r a b b i t.


you are unworthy of being my prey
Alek Mielnikow Jul 2019
Heard from within the static
An erratic fracture falling flat
Calling all the innocent out
Calling all the innocent out

Found whimpering in dimpled corners
Unearthing a second coming
Calling all the innocent out
Calling all the innocent out

Calling all the innocent out


-
by Aleksander Mielnikow (Alek the Poet)
Àŧùl Dec 2013
Roar!
The sanctuary roars,
Some of its many beasts seem angry,
They all feel hungry.

Roar!!
The roar is sadder,
Some of the advanced beasts feel sad,
They all miss hunting.

Roar!
The roar is full of sorrow,
Some of its beasts can't contain the sorrow,
They all miss their families.
My HP Poem #504
©Atul Kaushal
The spot you see it all.
The locus, with the right elevation.
Hidden, in the right vegetation.
Away, from any detection.

The view is strategic.
Targets unaware, roaming.
The moment is nearing.
Nothing escapes your sight,
Save for the blinking of an eye.

The rifle is set.
Scope, adjusted.
Wind bearing, calculated.
Heartbeat, decelerated.

Breath, bated.
Muzzle, pressed.
Down, goes the target. . .
kiran goswami Apr 2019
I met a boy today,
at the end of the road.
A young one, somewhere between 9 or 10.
He looked at me with his eyes on the ground.
"Where can I find Love?" He questioned.

I did not answer him.
Because I could not.
In the library, I go daily
I find books of genres
one such is 'love'.

But the books are not different than 'Horror'.
The 'horror' covers are black,
absorbing everything I tell,
The "love' covers are white,
reflecting everything I hear.

I went back with a dictionary
and a book of all the love letters
that were never written.

I saw him again
at the end of the road.
This time he looked away from me
while looking into my eyes.

I answered him,
because I thought I could.
'In the petals of red roses,
in the knelt proposes,
in the thumbed love letters.
in the woollen sweaters.
in the candlelight dinner
in the lines that win her
in the dark sunsets
in Romeo and Juliet.
in the surprise gifts
in the heartbeat that lifts,
You, can find love.'

I went home proud,
for I knew, he will find love now.

Eternities and forevers later,
I met a man today,
at the beginning of the road.
An old one, somewhere between 90 or 100.
He looked at me with his eyes staring inside mine.

'In the thorns that *****,
in the words that trick,
in the letters never sent
in the people who went
in the handmade food,
in the sceneries you never viewed
in the lost sunrise
in her eyes and lies
in the gift wrappers never thrown,
in the hearts that have become stone.
I, found love', he finally replied.

I went home proud,
for I knew he found love now.
Michelle Brunet Mar 2019
How do you decide?
Decide what to do,
What the future holds for you?
I don’t understand, one goal,
One goal that somehow
Supersedes them all.

How do you choose?
When passion flows through you,
For not just one, nor two,
But many life paths, careers,
It all means something to you?

I feel lost, thinking of the future.
I’m floating by, trying to find,
Something that could spark
More than mere interest,
Something that could captivate,
Hypnotize me for long enough.

Because you see, I flit from one
Passion to the next, one minute
I am drawing, the next sewing,
The next it’s animals I love,
Or how about teaching children?

And I sit here empty, not sure
Which path to take, which goal
To make, to work towards,
Because right now, I’m in
The inbetween, no job,
Not in school, what do I do?

But the reality is, I’m trying to find
That one magic passion,
That somehow works with my
Disable body, since almost everything,
I find it all exhausting.
And my mind is spinning circles,
A dog chasing its tail.

Why can’t I do it all?
Why can’t I just enjoy life, enjoy
All of the things it brings,
And take my time, because I’m
So tired, of trying to figure it all out.
Tired of planning, I’ve never been
Too good at planning, when there’s
So many things occupying my mind,
So many things that I desire.

But even then, even then, if I could find
A goal to work towards, a dream job
For right now, well that takes work
And it takes time, because it
Turns out it’s all a ladder that
We all have to climb and being disabled,
Well I feel left behind, not sure
How to move forward when
I also have to go up, and going
Up has always been so draining.

I must work now, to somehow
Get somewhere I would rather be,
But what do you do when most jobs
Require me to be on my feet,
With my level of experience,
And education, limiting me?
It’s like I have to hurt myself
In order to hopefully some day,
Live a better life, I guess that’s why
So many say, ‘suffer now, and
You’ll get your reward later’

I tried university, tried college,
But you see, being disabled,
Has made them  difficult for me.
At least, in the ways that I was pursuing.
And now I’m stuck, trying to find my way,
How to get out of this rut, this mess,
All around me while being limited
By my own body, when I’m so used
To trying so hard to keep up
With the rest of them, charging
At how much money they can earn.

Money, it always comes back to money.
And money stresses me out,
Makes me more sick, gives me more
Pain that I would ever like to be in.
Well, apparently, money is
Supposed to be the solution.

Not so easy when the job market is crap,
I didn’t come from money, so I had to
Start off with nothing, and make my own way.
But where do you start, when
All your ‘now’ prospects seem
Rather lackluster and all you can do
Is prepare for a future.

Strange to think that we’re told to
Live each and every day like
It’s the last one we may ever live,
When we have to spend our beginnings
Stuck in preparing, deciding, and striving
For a future, so hard to make,
When all you started with was
A journal to write in.

I just want to live now,
I want to live everyday,
I want to spend more time
Cultivating all this passion inside
Of me, it’s bursting inside of me.

But there’s this rut, this anxiety,
This fear, of having to build a life,
No, a career. So that I can live
In the future, instead of now,
So that hopefully, we can get by,
Scrape by, by the skins of our teeth.

Tired of working crap jobs,
That I don’t really like, where we’re
Unappreciated, and paid to barely live.
Overworked, underpaid, I’m in so much pain.
My body, can’t stand in this pain,
But that’s all I can do is stand.
In pain, at a cash register,
Or making drinks, no consideration,
Of the struggle it is of being disabled.

Because we all have to able.
Able to stand, to push, to work
Your ***** off, until there’s nothing left,
You’ve given all you’ve got, and then
Some. Soul *******, career bent,
Work too hard, to fit in.
You got to be a workaholic to fit in.

Well I can’t keep up with that pace,
And I see it wearing people thin,
People that have more strength,
More drive than I ever did.
How are we supposed to live,
When you have to work to live,
And, in turn, live to work.
It’s extremely exhausting.

All of this jumbles inside me,
I can’t breathe, can’t decide,
How I’m supposed to live my life
When everything screams
On all sides, that I’m supposed to be
Running, supposed to be rushing,
And that all seems so wrong.

I just want to live a life that has meaning.
Something meaningful to me, that I can
Actually enjoy each moment as it passes
Us all by, I don’t want to rush life
Before it all ends, I’m so tired
Of trying to run in this ‘rat race’
It’s not a race, I need a slower pace.
I demand a slower place.
No more running, no more racing,
It’s time to live in the now,
No fear.
© Michelle Brunet 2019
conflicting species
test the limits
to assert power
between themselves
i need to thank my ecology teacher for this
E Jan 2019
Winter, cold and still
Blood splatters powdered white feilds
Fawn shivers in fear
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