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AuEcologica Mar 2019
Wayward off you go towards where your feet take you
Wayward daughter, wayward son
To the end of the world, we go
Towards the edge of soil and liquids
To the end, we go.

Stubborn deceit,
                           love is a foreign air—
                                                            ­ we become the clothing we wear.

Wayward we go, to imagine our immortality;
to our sorrow; to our horror; to our heartless core, we found nothing more.

If our fate is to climb to the stars, a rule must be set never to forget the dirt, from which we were born. We become the clothing we wear.
Amanda Kay Burke Mar 2019
My self-esteem I ripped out of this body long ago
Self-respect not long after that
I traded both for a phony veil of joy
To stop feeling the pain of the place I was at

It never outlasted the strength of the ache
Now I own meager scraps and not much else
A heart in disrepair, aura colored black, muted spirit,
Hands sore and ****** from punishing myself

A hole or two would be just fine
But in my chest something's gone dark
A great persistence possesses me to poke
Until my hurt arms are covered in marks

All the way throughout my scarred skeleton
Sorrows lay scattered, sadness strewn about
They invited insecurities in to stay
Now not a single one will get out

Organs uncomfortably crowded by
Irrational fears, worries, and questions
Anxiety multiplies with a million other things
I would really rather not mention

The few shreds of confidence I had
Finally got fed up and fled
Leaving only doubt and shame
Plus negative thoughts echoing in my head

I used to harbor peace inside my marrow
All I feel there now is hurt
Carefree shrugs and smiles departed
Took refuge somewhere buried under dirt

There is not a lot here remaining
Of the person I was before
Better qualities packed up
And exited out the nearest door

These days I'm made of stubborn self-hatred,
Cloudy skin, empty eyes, lifeless hair, no beauty,
Addiction replaced the brightness of my soul with broken bulbs,
Yeah, there's not much here left of me
This one came from a dark place deep in my heart
inreticence Jun 2019
what a funny little thing.

stubborn, at most. 

reckless, always.



plowing through

all the excuses.

raging and carefree.



not at all clueless,
but
 decidedly
fearless.
Anya Feb 2019
The strands tangle and twist
As if my finger,
Is the center of a tiny universe
Of interlocking twining twirling black
With a simple twist and snap
Are ripped,
Star crossed lovers
Every Romeo to his Juliet
Are rip, rip, ri-torn apart
The hair from the hair tie

Yet,
Like tentacles clinging on
A stubborn slug, repulsive
Yet in an obscure manner
Admiringly persistent
It continues to hold on

Like a lizard regrows it’s tail
Impossible,
To truly chop off
So too does the hair insist
Upon an adamant refusal to separate

As if hair and tie are one
Interlocked
In a ferocious battle...     Or,
Perhaps, a passionate embrace?
Are they one?

Whether it be so or not
I decide not to bother
Why,  should I take up the mantle
Of the evil stepmother, wicked witch, cruel king...
You name it
To separate the two, lovers or competitors
They maybe

Why insist,
Upon what will never
Come true,
At least,
In the case of any proper Disney fairy tale

Is what I tell myself,
throwing down the hair tie
In favor of writing poetry about it
I lay awake to the sound of sirens,
the morning bustle and calamity.
Busy people among relentless lives,
breathing in their first breathes of the day,
Echoes of the coffee stirring and pitter patter
Of footsteps leading their way
But I remain here, stubbornly in my bed,
With an unwillingness to start.
For the curvature of the bed,
made by my own brutish heft
feels as though a valley to climb
has begun to steapen
The reluctance to clamber my way
Out of these walls
Has devoured my will to move
And I will remain stuck here
Until I am yanked with force
By someone who cares
Probably shouldnt ve writti g poetry this late
Rowan S Jan 2019
What is this self will?
Ignorance at its finest
Digging my heels in
Ignore the pretentious spelling of haiku (it is how I've always titled them in my journals), and enjoy the first of my haikus, which can range from irreverent and carefree to serious and introspective.
Lexie Dec 2018
It does nothing for me to cry
Still, I do it anyway
I'm stubborn like that
Nyx Dec 2018
Stubborn little prince
With his pride so high
I'm really not okay
With the fact that you lied

Lying through your teeth
Taking it to your grave
Thinking your the mastermind
Just shut up and behave

Enough with the act
Double edged sword
Two faces are far too many
Don't do it cause your bored

That's no excuse

Your wax wings are melting
Due to all the things you've done
I'm friends with an icarus it seems
He's flown to close to the sun

You're falling again

Failing to see what's happening
Ignoring all warnings
He'll fall down very soon
He won't see the next morning

I won't be there to catch you

Go on keep talking
As you think your quite sly
You are beginning to **** me off
You should know exactly why

Your words don't match up
Nor do your actions it seems
What is your game?
Do tell me by all means

Though I don't think it'll matter
As my minds set in stone
Continue playing your game
Wouldn't want your motives to be shown

Don't fly too high
Stubborn little prince



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