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Persephone Feb 10
I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever be satisfied in my life time
But until then
I will keep writing
Empire Oct 2019
Trigger warning: Self harm, cutting


I didn't really mean to...
But all of a sudden...
I was opening the third drawer...
My hand pulled it out...
Uncapped the blade...

Then I caressed it
Ran my fingers around the tip
Tested it on my ankle
But no... that's not what I really wanted
I know better
I know what I've been craving

So then it was there
In my hand on my wrist
And it slashed three times
Stopping only when blood began to flow
And it did flow.... and flow...
I just wanted to watch it...
As serenity washed over my body

Finally

For once

I'm calm

At peace
Lingua Franca Sep 2019
As honey billows from a hive
Words satisfy my mind
The sweetest dew breathed out of mouths
Mists my skin in Eros
My heat rises and bubbles the molasses in my head
Slow hands stir its thick syrup and enjoys its warmth and feel
Caressing down my cheeks
On my tongue and into my lips
harmony pleases my inner itch
The feeling of catching spoken words that encapsulate my expression
Bryce Jan 2019
The arrival of senselessness
Is a great shadow over the earth,
a cooling cloud in the summer
causation of looking up--

Gift-givers wander the slopes and with packets of thought,
They run their fingers along the stones and the trees and the fields
Grassy,
Following the trails of clouds wandering just as inconsequent
Leaving tears as rain on the steppes and letting them drain into the deathly floors
asking them to give the ability for new things to drink
This is the true Holy Water


And a patchwork soul seeks, fixated,
answers to the crackled nature of their vessel
Running into the same stone of them, cancerous
soon left to sands and dust
Ozymandias

The blades of leaves rattle a sad salute
Their ragged branches sheathed xylem, a perfect skyscraper design
Preventing edema of the like kind

Show to me that this place in not but the momentary awareness of light, a stopping point in the infinite variation

To locate oneself in the rapid raveling of everything into one great big
Sorrowful tear, running from the eternal blackness of the night
that holds noting but the absence of itself.
Rowan Sep 2018
I want to skip forward to the best parts,
Talking until my throat is raspy and,
drinking burning coffee at 6am as the sun rises over the line of houses.
Pale painted skin as I wait in nervous anticipation for your test to come back—
hoping that the line will read positive, and dreading the line will tell us that too.

I want to skip past our fight about the time I got too drunk, run past the part where,
I, in my self pity, collapsed against your porch door, unable to reach the cheaply made bronze.
The time I snapped at you for another self derogatory statement, trying to tell you, your scars aren’t a sign of weakness. I tried to tell you how strong you were, to stand there and live against all odds, but…
Somehow I made it about me, and at three forty two, I realized my mistake.

Red lines mark our history, and my mechanical pencil can’t erase these grades,
Signs that told me to stop, but I had no intention of leaving.
You told me you didn’t understand, why I stayed,
And I had to tell you,
It was because I couldn’t love you.

You, who loved me
And me, who couldn’t
          because the heart I had failed.
but I choose to love you anyways.
          a choice I haven’t regretted.

How about we skip to the night I held you in my arms and refused to let you go? Or the day I surprised you with your favorite dinner, even if I was a terrible cook, you smiled at me and we ordered pizza instead?

A choice, a choice, will those kids ever learn?
Love isn’t a feeling in your breast, or clogging your senses.

Remember how I said I wanted to skip past our fights? I changed my mind.
… those fights made us,
and so I hope you say yes, will that cute half smirk you always gave me,

when I hand you your favorite book, a ring dangling from a chain, marking my favorite passage.


Lets not chase after these next few years,
Let us just live them first.

with love,
Mister J Jun 2018
This is a deadly game
This is a poisonous gamble
This is unwarranted passion
This is crazy obsession

And yet you choose me
Amidst all that chaos within me
That hurts you when it shows
Amidst all my flaws you love me

You are a bright flame
Warm and passionate
Fierce and boisterous
A raging beacon of beauty in the darkness

I am that darkness
Cold and unmoving
Dead and restrained
A chaotic enigma hidden in your shadows

I am around you
But I cannot touch you
And yet you shine for me
You choose to love me

No matter how much we try
No matter what we do
Light can never banish the darkness
And darkness can never touch the light

But here you are
Loving the darkness in me
Because you exist to need me
Because light must shine amidst the dark
And darkness must help the light shine

An odd combination
The two of us
And yet you're in love with me
And I with you
They may say its wrong
But who the hell cares
Because I feel its right
Even if we are never alike
Just blowing off some steam.
Finally, some vacation from school
What to do? What to do?

Thanks for reading!

-J
Debbie Brindley Oct 2017
Touch so gentle and tender
Body and soul complete surrender
Lips so soft caress the skin
Close your eyes
and just give in
Arms and legs
Pull you near
Fingers tangled in your hair
All lifes worries fade away
In the grips of passion
you shall stay
Lust so hungry
an urge so great
Fast and frenzied
you just can't wait
Overwhelming sensations
Why put up a fight
Whole body tingling
Afternoon delight
Woke up with these words in my head
Yuka Oiwa Jul 2012
An author must understand the craft
of picking such
fruit.
The patience to resolve and then
pluck
the ending, ripe on the branch.

But any reader can taste the sweetness,
Satisfying, although it leaves such a
Singular   lingering   taste
An urge to bite
   and bite
                   and bite
until only the seeds are left,
embedded in the folds of you brain,
watered by your memory, to            grow.

Though we say that reading is our escape
All readers want reality in the end
An overripe “deus ex machina”
can never                     satisfy

the craving for
a good ending.
Lady Bird Dec 2016
cute,funny, smart
makes you wonder
whats behind the smile
charming, sweet, satisfying
may sooth the urge
for a little while
yet not your cup of tea
not a toy on a string
I've made up my mind
I'm not your play thing
I refuse to waste more
of my precious time
if you love me why wont
you just set me free?
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