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CI Thomas Aug 12
You put me on a pedestal
Where everyone could see me.
You asked for a favour,
Then another and another.
"Don't let me down!"
You were joking,
But you're eyes adored me.
I couldn't fail,
I couldn't let you down,
I couldn't breathe.

I tried,
That's all I can say.
Ankita Dash May 25
listen,
I was still covered in placenta when they locked me in this golden cage

fast at work,
they didn't care how calloused their hands got
rough ropes fed through the pulleys,
and sewed into the heavy haze of distraction.

listen,
I promise you,
if they could leave this pedestal and share the warmth that is burning and bubbling for them, they would do it;
but the fall would **** them first.

listen,
there are two ways to rob someone of their humanity-
to idolise them
and to ignore them;
so perhaps we all share the same emptiness that way.
annh May 4
Better to stand on my own two clay feet,
than bolster someone else’s crumbling tarsals and fallen arches.

‘I didn’t want to deserve better as long as I had you.’
- Lidia Longorio, Hey Humanity
annh May 4
If you place me on a pedestal,
I can’t help but disappoint you;
For no one is infallible,
No one survives unbroken,
No one remains unchanged.

When it all turns to custard,
Who do you blame?
Me for letting you down,
Or yourself for doing the same,
By expecting too much of me.
To shamelessly paraphrase Yotam Ottolenghi: ‘I am inordinately fond of pedestals...and...custard in any shape or form.’
Kylee Dec 2019
You deserve the moon and the stars

And I’ll do anything to make you feel like the sun

-pedestal
Jon Thenes Jul 2019
Don’t let the medium dry
Moisten This Creation                                   
by ANY MEANS necessary

It’s vulnerable

For This Creation to become pedestal WE MUST :

feed it
off of a capillary bag

mist it
under a dense healthy breath

lead it
to suckle an engorged breast

For
IF WE DO NOT
we risk it becoming husk ;
good only for digs and dust shops.

For This Creation, WE MUST queue

with our blood tapped
and ready

our breeding fluids
our various flows carefully labelled
and in sterile pouches

our donor cards filled out
steady for sacrifice

Keep This Creation wet
and it shall be a beacon
a call to awareness
a beckon of craft for us all
and not some common art-hole
In time THE CREATION SHALL SERVE US
Arts’ Monster
It’s vulnerable
(a toothed Whale out of water
  awaiting a machine strong enough
  to return it to the ocean)
I do not want the sainthood you assign to those
who have never let you down
I want the ***** gritty scabs that come from falling
off of pedestals and landing in the mud

I am in no need of your righteous tongue
I am in need of your caring shoulder  

of your love
of your grace moving through me as you kiss my thigh
Stella Matutina Apr 2019
I don't know who this is for,
Who's address I would put on the envelope.
I have a few people in mind,
But I don't know if sending this to them would be the best idea.

I guess it's an open letter to my younger self.
My 15 year old self who was thrown into chaos,
Who walked into a crowd of scheming, malicious friends.

Friends? You ask.
Yes they were my friends,
And they fought,
And stole,
And clawed their way to the top of a power structure,
Just to have it all tumbling down.

I was there the entire time.
Never clawing,
Or climbing,
Just trying to hold everyone together,
Keep everyone' s peace of mind,
While I lost my own.

What they never realized,
What I barely realized,
Was that as they played the game,
Learned the rules,
Learned to win and lose,

I forgot those rules.
Forgot is too nice,
I ignored them.

I lost my head making sure everyone kept theirs,
And when the dust settled,
When everyone took off their masks and assessed the damage,
I was there.

At the top

Alone.

No one noticed,
They were to busy pointing fingers.
While they were busy throwing metaphorical stones and spears,
I was placing land mines,
And trip wires.

At the end of the day,
When the battle was over,
It was me and me alone at the top.
The victor,
The one who had amassed all the power and influence my friends were desperately trying to hold on to.

I am still here,
Pondering my morality,
Pondering how ******* lonely it is.

Because while they built the pedestal,
Put me on top of it,
And surrendered without even realizing it,

They also isolated themselves from me.
And me from them.
And they have yet to realize the war they have lost.

While they were busy throwing insults,
Calling each other monsters,
They never even looked at me,
Or noticed me.

I sat there,
The most power hungry,
Conniving,
And ambitious one of all.
I sat at the top,
And no one even noticed.

So to my 15 year old self,
Who was thrown into the fire,
And learned to lie,
And cheat,
And steal,
Who learned to not only survive,
But conquer them all-

I notice you.
And I fear the day you get to show your true colors again.
To the people who taught me the politics of friendship
Pyrrha Mar 2019
I used to gaze at the clouds all day long
I used to love to dance in the rain
I used to love the sunshine on my skin
now I never go outside
I just watch as passion seeps from my life

I used to walk on eggshells for you
I never let them crack or make a sound
I used to stand on a pedestal with you
despite my fear of heights
but what did you ever sacrifice for me?

I'm not the same as I once was
the smiles that I wore
have all gone out of season and expired
but out of all the things that I have loved and lost
you are the one goodbye I don't regret

Keep your pedestal
I'm building myself a shrine
A person like me
Was meant to be worshipped
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