Penelope Apr 13

I absolutely hate
when somebody says;
oh but...
you're so young
and beautiful,
why in the world
would you ever want
to hurt yourself?
because, little do they know
that the pain
behind my eyes,
stems from a story
nobody seems to be able
to tell.
and that the
quote unquote
lacerations on patient's arms
are from me
trying to get the demon's
imprint out.
little do they know
that my wisdom,
is from the centuries
of the pure evil
I had to endure.
that my age
of young
isn't rather fitting.
or that beauty
is just a fucking
look-see.
because,
feel my insides
as they rot
and spoil further.
so, fuck you
for thinking
that you know me
based
on the way that I bleed.
because you may think
I have everything in the
world to live for,
when in reality
all of that everything
was obsolete.

Free Bird Mar 13

Over time I've realized I'm the type of person who can draw anyone in
Mysterious, yet comforting to be around
An altruistic listener, an effective conversationalist, a trusted confidant
Modest as I may be, I do understand where I stand with most people
I'm the person you call when you're having a bad day, or need a ride, or even to bask in the glory of your successes;
a promotion at work, a new fling
I'm that person
The person to go to with your something;
your need, or your news
Intriguing from afar
Many want to delve into the depths
Uncover the story within
Until they realize that there's more
There's always more
Like a black hole pulling you in
Only to find that it's expanse goes on indefinitely
After a while my quips, my quirks
become exhausting
To others
No one can fathom traveling the distance
So they don't
They turn back
I willingly release them
of my gravitational pull
Then we both float on
In opposing directions
It's funny how one can be too much
Yet somehow, never enough

The ramblings of my mixed up mind. Trying something different.
Giannina Randi Jan 20

Time is terrible
in the sense
that it is never
consistent.
It favors you
one moment
and betrays you
the next.
It gives you
hope
for a second—
crushing it
in an instant.
Years of happiness
can come
crumbling down
in a tick.

thoughts from when i was seated in a quiet spot facing a lake
Giannina Randi Jan 20

I think it's maddening
to think
that everything
is just fine.
Fine is suspicious.
Fine is everything
and nothing.
Fine is
sometimes
anything but.

thoughts from when i was seated in a quiet spot facing a lake
Giannina Randi Jan 20

In a moment
of fleeting silence,
I found a sense
of lasting peace

thoughts from when i was seated in a quiet spot facing a lake
rose Jan 2

to do today
or leave till tomorrow -
a simple thought
that only requires
my procrastination.

a sigh of tiredness
hoping that it could
only be done
on a day that's
not today.

a wish of regret,
coming on the last minute
of when something
could have been done
before.

a mere idea
to be deepened over time
after quite a while
when i did it
not today.

having so many
questions, questions, and more
that will be
answered
never.

then
i think to myself,
i can do it today
[ but i can also do it
not today. ]

this is what happens when i am exposed to a piece of paper and a pencil and my mind
Aleck Solier Nov 2016

The waves, they called to me

As they built their crescendo

Angrily crashing on those rocks

My name, they have echoed

Aleck Solier Nov 2016

What am I to do?

When the voices start talking

When the sea begins to beckon

Bereft of comforting

What am I to think?

When the sadness kicks in

As the darkness descends

Left to chaos and sin

Aleck Solier Nov 2016

Will these words ever reach you?

Will you ever understand?

That it has always been about you

As if it’s been planned

All those silent pleas

All the prayers to the gods

All the words I’ve whispered

Through this life I’ve plod

The winds have carried my thoughts

The shadows, my longings

Every sunrise, my hopes

And every sunset, my dreamings

Krystal Lèleck Nov 2016

Moving at such a momentum that is necessary for the mere realization makes any attempt of catching yourself futile. You’re moving too fast with entirely too much force. Your fingers scrape at hard dirt sides, the glass that sand once was cuts once again. Branches turn into hot, fiery rope in the palms of your hands.
Just fall.
Land well.
And begin to ascend….
Yet again.

Next page