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He preferred unwashed and touched skins
I was ripe and fresh, with my green leaf
Shiny as if someone polished me against their polo shirt.

He loved texture, bruises, and discoloration
while I was smooth, absolutely bump free.

No patience left in him, he needed to gorge his hunger,
biting down and ripping it's other half trailed with a string of dripping saliva.

It wasn't a want, but a must.

Worms were wriggling out from the rotten core begging to escape from his monstrous pointed teeth.

He preferred them just the way they were, abandoned, unsure, insecure.

He however never preferred me; smothering myself of perfection to be picked from all hands who only ever picked the others...

Perfect apples can't always be picked up.
Zywa Mar 17
I now pull back the curtain
to show you this painting
as a very special exception -
my wife, she died young

Since her death she only smiles
at me, you can see it
So sweet, passionately, she looks
Her eyes seem to be thirsty

also for the painter
that is quite clear
She was always very happy
to see others

Everything and everyone charmed
her and received her gratitude
What difference could I make?
And it got worse and worse

I had to restrain her
and then all smiles stopped
Now only in this painting
Only as a painting
Poem "My Last Duchess" / "Italy" (1842, Robert Browning, collection "Dramatic Lyrics")

Alfonso II d'Este, Duke of Ferrara, is a widower. His wife Lucrezia di Cosimo de' Medici died three years ago. He married her in 1558, when she was thirteen, and abandoned her in 1559. In 1564 he negotiates with Nikolaus Madruz, the envoy of the Count of Tyrol, for the marriage of Barbara, the eighth daughter of Emperor Ferdinand I.

Collection "Reaching out"
Maryann I Mar 9
I hate this hunger, gnawing loud,
a whisper turned into a crowd.
I write for peace, for truth, for light—
yet crave the echo in the night.

A thousand eyes, a million hearts,
I want the world to know my art.
Though kindness rains and love is near,
still something selfish stirs in fear.

Why isn’t enough just enough?
Why does praise feel like fragile fluff?
Why do I ache for louder cheers,
when gentle voices ring so clear?

I count the stars, but chase the sun—
forgetting how the moon has won
my poems over with her grace,
while I still seek a grander place.

I loathe this thirst I cannot quench,
this greedy pull, this inner wrench.
Yet deep inside, I see the root—
a child who just wants to feel absolute.

But let me learn to love this pace,
to write for stillness, not the race.
To hold each word, each soul, each view,
and know—enough is something true.
Gideon Mar 8
Have you any fear, sweet hummingbird?
When your wings flap in less than a heartbeat’s time,
Do you fear a time when they will no longer help you soar?
Through the trees, you fly, seeking sweet nectar.
Do you fear the day the flowers die, and the nectar runs out?
Or are you too simple? Or maybe are you too pure?
Are you untouched by such a trivial, yet complex emotion?
Have you any fear, sweet hummingbird?
Or are you a better form of being than me?
Samuel Feb 26
Bejeweled, the peacock in her feathery glory,
Enchants each passerby to tell her story.
Her way with words, allures them all,
She gleams with pride; she stands tall.

A woodpecker, wears its crimson crown,
Its artistry turns down a frown.
Builds his home, upon a log,
Persists through rain or fog.

Peacock teaches the woodpecker its wicked game,
Gives the woodpecker a taste of fame.
Woodpecker works day and night,
Threatens the peacock, gives her a fright.

The woodpecker, praised for his newfound grace,
Notices the peacock, disdain on her face.
He asks her softly  , the cause of her dismay,
Her voice cold and dead, begins to say.

“Your craft is weak, yet you think it’s great?
You still have time, it’s not to late.
If I see it again, it'll drive me mad,
Oh, honey! Its the truth, aren’t they all bad?”

Woodpecker stunned, as she keeps saying more,
Feels his crown fall on the floor.
With care for his pride,
He ponders and delves into a stride.

He says-
“Insecurity buried deep—that’s fine.
But why must you extinguish your friends’ shine.”
Speaking less but saying more,
He flies off to a better shore.
This poem is actually about me. I started writing because of my cousin, but over time, she started criticizing my work so much that it made me feel uncomfortable. Eventually, she just straight-up insulted me, which really got to me. It made me feel awful, so for my own peace of mind, I decided to stop talking to her.
anna Feb 13
I rinse my face, cold with no soap, not
waiting for water to warm.
The droplets race in uniform rivulets,
stroking, lukewarm, unrivaled
down my cheeks - a careful tease,
without competition. I'm not sure
if it's hurt or an aching hunger, or just
a longing for what I never had, a tainting anger.
Zywa Jan 30
She's upset: I didn't

look at her for a second --


but at the roses.
Quatrain #1776 "I went strolling with my beloved" (13th century, Jalal al-Din Muhammad Rumi)

Collection "Love Mind and Death"
christopher Jan 18
the sun envys the moon and stars
he wishes he could have something like they do
but he cant
the moon and stars have this bond
one thats not like the others
its like they were drawn together
and they cant move away
the stars was scared
but the moon promises to keep her safe
to protect her for all of eternity
the sun was jealous of this
he wants someone to look out for him
the way the moon does for the stars
nothing can touch the sun though
they would simply burn.
hsn Jan 15
you glow in the night like silver satin
and i watch in utmost admiration while
stroking my skin of rusted steel; how
i wish i could live in your skin
On your shoulder stands a monster
Name is insecurity
Grotesque green-eyed gargoyle
Subverting surroundings you see

My heart an antique treasure
Covered in dross and dust
Every afternoon bricks wedged between
Barrier built by broken trust

In haste to label me a villain
Strengths overlooked without a second glance
Few foolish mistakes I may have made
We will never succeed if you don't give us the chance

There's plenty space for us to grow
Turn over a new leaf
Full of abundant paranoia
No room in skull for belief

I cannot take anymore upheaval
Over and over again a skipping track
Interrogation ripping flesh
Infinite questions break back

On map I illustrate details
Appeasing you is tough
Doesn't matter how accurate my statements
Efforts seem to not ever be enough

I feel indignity
Gently caressing insight
Embracing like a family member
Not afraid of standing up for what's right

So very tired of being pegged as the bad guy
I take cover from insinuations
In a brave moment of futility
Kick the door in to house of expectations

I dance in entryway like the whole world is blind
Until I collapse because you make it so hard
Each invalid word flung my direction
Slowly wriggles through thought's guard

It comes together
Pieces of a mechanism
Dismembering my self-esteem
Out of nowhere insults are thrown my way
Rage rises in me like steam

My voices speak brutal tones
Echoing deeply within brain
Sometimes can't tell if my demons are lying
Till morning sheds light on what's sane

Sleeping dogs won't keep eyes closed
I'm turned upside down
I can't help but crawl back to your arms
When day shifts perception around

Every which way emotions are conflicted
Rest when you realize you are wrong
Leaving me alone in peace for awhile
Until next episode comes along

Till my fatigued legs are forced to start running
Miles to showa the light
Fly to a place with less distress
Pinky promise we will be alright

And wait for you to come to your senses
Whether noon or months from now
Playing out scene however it unfolds
In future like a garden we will bloom somehow

In jungle of life where so many are ruthless
Are the only man who catches my eye
Contrary to what imagination might assume
Have no inclination or need to glance at another guy

I told you before and I'll say it again
Simply not that kind of girl
Fact that you would even entertain that notion
Truthfully makes me want to hurl

We have faced fair share of challenges
I'm sure there are more to come
If you want me to be better try building my confidence
Instead of opposite like calling me dumb

Why does it look like you create obstacles?
If let be the path would remain clear
You search so persistently for problems
Eventually they are bound to appear

Making mountains of molehills
Just wish for you to appreciate what you've got
May never have as much to offer as you
I give you my love and that's a lot

I'm left wondering where things went wrong
Striving to present my best
Will you notice what's so obvious to me?
Despite our issues we both are blessed

Think if eyes were truly open
Have nothing but faith in me
Loyalty and devotion are screaming at top volume
You are too focused on my shortcomings to see
Sorry it's a little long
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