Put me on your shelf -
Your little china cabinet *****.
Sitting pretty behind the glass,
And eagerly waiting to be seen.
The chipped teacup to the right,
The one with the fuchsia floral print...
She said you broke her before making tea;
She had your blood on her rim for proof.
The cracked plate to the left,
The one with the sapphire villa scene...
He said you dropped him on purpose,
Smiling as he clattered to the floor.
Then they went quiet,
And I stared at you as you peered in.
You think you're clever, don't you?
Well - I'll tell you what,
You're a ******* fool
For putting a bull in a china closet.
I gladly welcome critiques. Thank you!
I now give my love out freely, it's your business what you choose to do with it
Born in pain
Driven by hunger
Smouldered by passion
Blinded by love
Swallowed by things
Devoured by fear,
Liberated by death
Born again in pain
the nights devoid of holiness
to find itself tangled
with the crestfallen visage
always plastered on mine.
a close acquaintance of mine
would be the moon--
glimmering and illuminating
the regrets and mistakes
onto every fibre of my being.
my dreaded moment has come--
the clock made itself known;
through the fragile threshold
i dared to call my home.
it made me a fool
i could be liberated
from this labyrinth.
make it stop.
Weathered round top
And a steady beat
Sometimes that's all you need
A metronome ticks
Reminding me of band
The curve of my French horn
This wasn't supposed to last
Finger printed love poems
Skip the fire stage
Straight to ash
It could've been fixed you weren't wrong
I know that I didn't draw these lines on this map the right way
Crooked and scrambled
I'm not going to say sorry though
Sometimes things aren't supposed to make it
And that's ok
Because it's just the experiences
That have peeked out from behind a rock
Sap covered lessons
That stick to us when we walk away
Raven feathers descend
Upon this still pitched mirror
Ridiculously puffy clouds
Reflect back to this cornea
Everything is alright
And I will gladly indulge
In this tranquil water
For however long
It chooses to stay
there was a girl who cried wolf;
it echoes from the hollows of crevices
until it inevitably comes back to her --
it only welcomes her with silence.
and i stand there and watch
as she continues to cry wolf.
the river -
gushing, flowing, full of life -
it stops to listen to her wishes.
the wind -
withdraws from crafting a tempest
planted in my own roots,
i sit and hear her howls of desperation.
now, sans woe bellows
from her sunken cheeks,
frail body clad in loneliness.
a ghost of a smile
marrs her rose-colored face.
"liberated," she said, "i wish to be liberated."
silence comes back to greet her.