Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Martin Meek Sep 2017
You gave me what I wanted.
Then you left me in the dark.
You played me for a fool.
But that wasn't the end.
That was only the beginning.
I sat there and watched you.
You play the game of give-and-take.
But now I found somebody new. Someone who won't hurt me like you.
No more you and no more me.
The us we used to be is gone.
My tears have cried their last.
No more pain and sorrow from you.
No more hurt No More cuts.
I have found a new and they love me.
Me for me.
And know one else.
This is my happy ending.
This is my story.
Of my life after you.
I Will Survive.
Because I know better days are to come.
Because I have found thee.
The one who died for me.
I found Jesus just in the nick of time.
He saved me from you.
Saved me from your evil hands.
Saved me from your lustering light.
Satan be gone.
Live me to be please.
This I bege of you.
Because hay.
I once was confused but that's no more. Because I found an everlasting Love.
I found one who means more.
I found Christ a never ending love.
And God has my back.
Now and forever.
The end...
Rachel Ace Apr 2017
You look like a light-colored satin
Stars f
              l on your caramel hair
Your laureate crown is permanent

You walk fast as a local feline
L'Empereur far from his throne
You look disoriented
You look tired

It's nightfalling
Resolution parts
The moon shines
Gold minds

Lace L'étoile
Jeune ace
Shiny sleeves

I go through a mirror
You're sitting in there
I hide carefully
Not to be alert
I have found myself again
Dreaming of you inside
The reflection of your mirror

At night my opal
                           sleeves are made of satin.

   - Codelandandmore// 6:00 PM ©
Modern poem
Loxodes Dec 2015
My heart made out of glasswool,
Like a poisonous rose
its soft but you are going to cut yourself
when you get too close

My soul minimalistic,
Neo-geo art piece but in an unnatural pose
you really going to hurt yourself
when you get too close

Some people dont suffer,
We really pity those
They dont have the scars of life
They never came too close

We both came too close
Marie-Chantal Jan 2015
I have developed a twitch in my body-brain.
It jerks at my organs and my violet thoughts.
I can control it to make it work,
Use it to dance on your rusted metal cogs.
It's like a spinning tree,
With interwinding pine cones of
Gold that hang from satin branches
He is perched up there again!
Tall and proud.
Not a bird like other animals.
Not an animal like other animals.

I know your most shameful thoughts,
Let me tease out the guilt and despair
Pull it out in worm string from your
Bloodied Guts,
Your gilded towers where you lock them away
Shame on you.
Bell chimes three times: Death call
But blue tears still cling like sharp thorns to brassy plumage
plumes plumes plumes

Frère Jaques, Frère Jaques, Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?

Slumber not next to the satin tree,
Layered under the shrieks of your old loves
Where they suffer timeless tortures that make your tongue
Taste like fish feed.
Poppy breathed inside his beak-jaw, mongrel!
White faeces stain the satin branches again.
Bloodied, bloodied, bloodied.
Pandora makes you bleed
White faeces.
Leech, your brain is a leech-vampire.
White faeces.

Quick, walk around the tree three times in clockwise motions,
Not like a tick-tock more like the flap of a wing.
Do not forget the tear ink,
Her tears were ink,
they were ink,
ink, ink, ink.
Sink into the poppy field!
Churn in your toxic nutrition
Choke on your reflux
Do not taste.
Do not see.
Do not smell.
Do not touch.
yikes no idea where this came from.
Evan Hayes Dec 2014
A new pilgrimage takes place
A new solid rock
I'm not very prolific
But my friend's a clock
I tried to let you down
I was magnificent
Nothing tastes like satin or silk cause
All I have is lace

Now my apples are sour
And I'm missing a flower
But at least I've got the stem
It's fire in the kiln

Liquor store of alcohol
Lead me to die on the wall
Another unimportant speck of carbon
All he is
Is sobbin'

Let the fruit of the garden
Polish your life
Won't you just trust the warning
Please, please pardon
If I'm a little boring
My friend Dave
And My brother Davey
Both went to Navy
Both died trying to save me

If you think you know me then
Listen to the birds
They will tell you everything
That I can't with words
Leo Paul Johnson Dec 2014
The Lady in Red Satin sits before me,
Asks me, “Dear, how long is it going to be?
Before I lock lips with you in eternal glee,
And we run away from this place, wild and free? ”

Her lips are sure luscious, as juicy as can be,
But I keep my restraint and tell her, “Not now Honey,
Because this place is so beautiful, it has lots that I haven’t seen,
I have dreams too to reach, can’t you just see? ”

She frowns at this, says, “I’ve been waiting for long,
For a kiss from you, from the day you were born.
I’ve been with you, my dear, all through your life,
All through your strives, like a faithful wife”

“I know that, my dear, don’t you worry”, I say,
“I’ll come to your arms, and sleep in it one day.
But for now, the only thing I can say,
Is that, I have dreams to reach, that I cannot cast away.'

I stop talking to her and resume chasing my dreams,
This lady is impatient; she can’t wait for long it seems,
So I treat each day, as if it were my only day,
Because, this lady named Death, could kiss me any day
Kalia Eden May 2014
she was wearing soft red lips
and blue eyes as deep as the ocean
and a shirt that read “THIS WILL DESTROY YOU”
and you should’ve known then but it was already too late
too late
too late
and you were already moving, already in motion
she made her darkness shine like gold.    

she was wrapped in silk and satin
that would have burned you if you tried to touch
and she was sitting by a window
waiting for you.
she wanted to keep her sadness close
and her vastness open.
she didn’t understand what it meant to be the moon
and you should’ve known then but it was already too late
and you were already moving.
she was a wolf, she said
and her knowledge could eat you
you, on the other hand
have always been a deer.

                        she spoke with a voice of lush and luxury
and wore her jacket over her shoulders
on the first day of spring.
her enigma was thrilling
and she scared you
almost to death
but not enough to make you leave.
she had hands of ice
and the breath of heartbreak.
she still remembered how to laugh
however cynical.
she was just as lost and dismembered as anyone else
but knew how to hide it
among sharpened knives
and glasses of red wine.
she loved the thought of drowning
but yearned to be saved
and asked you for help.
she let you in
but she was a self-proclaimed goddess
with secrets deeper
than your lungs.
she was water
and you have always been air
and you should’ve known then but it was already too late
and you were already moving.
the whole time you moved within one word
and that word carried you to places she never could:
she tried to warn you
she knew she couldn’t be the person you loved
yet somehow you still did
somehow you still did
(she) did still you, somehow
somehow you still did.
it was already too late
late too, already, was it?
it was already too late.
before you even met her
before you even saw her turn around in that coffee shop
before her smile
before her accent reached your ears
before your arms touched
before she read her writing to you
before she opened
before she placed her hand on your back
before you watched her walk away down the dark city street for the first and last time
before you met the body behind the screen, you did
you loved the words.
Ira Dawson May 2014
Love is just a red
satin sheet, blinding our view
of what’s underneath.

— The End —