Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
IC Dec 2022
As obligations take up my free time
my wild spirit has been put in a cage
with perfection and accomplishment as my keys

Under a carpet of snow
when the first 'lenteklokjes' come peep from under their blanket
my keys will slowly rise up from the frozen ground as it thaws
and clear my way to the light.
Good luck to all the students! It will all be over soon ♡
Amanda Kay Burke Dec 2020
Forgiveness taking far too long
Knife out and in my hands
My own judgement tasting wrong
Back and blood understands

Using to sharpen wit but not
Hurt anyone
Zero exceptions
No matter if they ought
Harm myself is my intention

Their heads in false guillotines
Hair drenched in sweat
Manage to turn my cheek
Wrong that this pain I let

They are supposed to care
The ones who betrayed
Just expected them to be there
My feelings were played

Until understanding why
Heart will keep bleeding
Alone continue to try
Never made progress in succeeding
I hate feeling like a fool
scar Jun 2015
Perforations on a notebook,
Variations on a theme
Accusations in her writing,
Bad sensations in her dream.

Keeping up her outer image,
Dressing down her deep turmoil
Showing up for work and home life,
Damping down the blood that boils.

Inventory of her lifetime
Crooked story, twisted prose
Imagery of her writing,
Stationary English rose.

Holding still for family portrait
Holding fast to moral code,
Trying still to uphold values,
Thinking faster than she knows.

Ever trying, always failing,
All the while succeeding, yet
Ever after, all her chances
Always bring her past regrets

To the surface ever higher
To the eyes that burn with tears -
To the past her back is turned now,
Face to the future's outstretched years.
Kate Lion Sep 2014
i feel like a bird that flew right into a window
that you pointed at and laughed

i feel like the shaven-head celebrities
the crack addicts
the high, homeless hippies on the street

i feel like a person of Wal Mart
the awkward couple that shows way too much PDA in public
the punchline of a fat joke

(i see all the fingers pointed at me as--)

i struggle to bend my wings into shape again
but i've taken to writing poetry and cutting up pieces of newspaper
to fit between the ruffled feathers

i shouldn't still have brain damage from the collision i had with your pride (sixteen miles high)

but maybe i do

i tap on the glass just to make sure that i really am a fool
and to see if you'll look back
to see me redeem myself
to see me fly

(but you don't)

— The End —