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grace 14h
an imprisoned model for the rest of the world to watch
craving the attention not of the reporters and media but of the people who truly care
grace 14h
100
stiletto heels and heartbreak
singing songs of falling in love
when you're stuck and unable to regain balance
jcl Feb 5
you are may
i am december
kisses exchanged
during the bluing hour
child like
staring at you
in wonder and amazement
frosting night
falling snow
flakes in your auburn hair
i walk you home
in the cold frigid air
holding your hand
dreaming of you

you are rare
a beacon
a lighthouse
in a storm
in my daydreams
you are the pixie, the fairy inspiring me  
at night
you are the siren, i surrender to

a trifecta of youth, beauty, personality
you are refreshingly young
spring in my wintered life
preternaturally beautiful
perfection come to life
your femininity bewitching  
your youth intoxicating
your mannerism seducing
i would do anything for you

oozing sensuality
innocences
of a woman on the cusp
you hunger for sophistication
to be worldly-wise
seeking passage guidance
from an experienced traveller
the trade, the deal, is timeless
refined by evolution  

i am humbled
to have been chosen
the ultimate champion
of your ****** selection
in turn, you are my trophy
the spoils
of a never ending war

i know our time is short
the span of a bloom
a season at most
i know the outcome
seen the devastation
the problem is
we think we have time
https://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/24/arts/design/24wilson.html
#79
You
are supposed to be
my example;
my model;
my idol,
my wonderful,
my perfect,
my life-like-you example.
Instead,
you are my
opposite,
my don't,
my bad,
my no,
my devil,
my nobody,
my villain,
my don't-be-like-you.
What have you turned into?
What if I no longer want to be like you?
What if I don't like this you?
Well,
somehow,
I still love you.
Don't ask me how,
'cause I don't know myself.
Why do I still love you?
What have you turned yourself into?
Where is your old self? The one that I love, or used to love...
Luna Jay Jan 17
X-rays always made her feel like a model,
The doctor always taking her pictures.
She always posed.
Every imperfection, every flaw in her porcelain skin,
They refused to overlook.
They had to inspect her,
Make sure she wasn’t contagious.
“Drink this, eat that, take these.
Let us shove tubing down your throat
So we can find you another pill”
And she was absolutely sick and tired
Of all of the rules and tubes and wires
And people she didn’t know touching all over her,
Making her feel
“Better”
It made her feel exposed.
Cold.
Like she was some
******* bunny for a physical health magazine.
Her nostrils were stained with
The strong scent of hand sanitizer.
And she couldn’t keep the hospital food down,
And the shower was always freezing cold…
But at least they could make her feel
“Better”
Erasing the taste of
Copper anorexia at the back of her throat,
She’s just an experiment.
rgz Jan 11
I never tried to be what I thought that I should be
Never did achieve anything I could achieve
I never tried to see what it was you saw in me
Nor did I believe everything I should believe

I never had the chance to ask "Would you like to dance?"
To feel your lips in an eclipse or even steal a glance
I never said goodbye to you, we never said hello
I never tried to live a life and now I have to go
wee bit sad
writingsolo Nov 2018
It's time to dress up,
standing arms wide as you slide
me into yet another dress.

It's time to smile again,
you like seeing me look pretty
so I hold my head high.

It's time to look at me in the mirror, see if I really do look cute.

Oh...
(this isn't what I want)
How cute?
I don't understand what I'm supposed to do, I can't dress the way she wants me to and be happy with how I look.
Hg Oct 2018
she was quite the actor
always on a role

lights camera affection
putting on a show

she was quite the model
never had to pose

every tear was candid
such a natural
©Hg
PoserPersona Jul 2018
Leaves, sticks, and seeds make up this six foot stalk.
Oh, how she blooms before the flashing lights!
Leaving men and women with a stunned gawk.
Oh, you cause the seeds of your kind at night,
to dream of heights they won't reach; how sadly
try the delusional. But in all kin,
is imprinted a faint scar on their psyches.
Sacrificial offer in porcelain
is ritually performed by some daily.
If not for fame, glory, or money, then
to mirror fashion people's ideal beauty.
A cyclic mental disease that won't end.
Shhh.. Here she comes! The first, but not the least.
An appetizer for the famine feast!
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