#deeppoem
Porcelain skin,
white with rosy cheeks.
Lips sewn shut,
concealing her shrieks.
Knotted hair,
with pink pretty bows.
Smiling mouth,
lips red as a rose.
Eyes open,
staring at blank space.
Pretty dresses,
covered all in lace.
Broken teacups,
will soon fall apart.
Never revealing,
her lack of a heart.
Perfect girl,
with an alluring complexion.
Fails to see,
her and her reflection.
Flawless,
you can’t see her cracks.
Scarred,
only seeing whites and blacks.
Collecting dust,
sitting on a shelf.
Contemplating,
life itself.
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 5:33 PM UTC
Three dinner mats are placed,
Carefully laid, evenly spaced.
A candle lit warmly,
The ironic sense of home in a way.
Cutlery shining, stating its place,
Though one seems to have been erased.
They're four people,
In this place called home.
The candle was not lit for me,
Bright, present but unknown.
Yet you say its best to leave me alone,
For i am damaged, very unknown.
So I linger, as they're three dinner mats instead of four,
Maybe in another life you will notice me some more.
Dec 30, 2024
Dec 30, 2024 at 4:17 PM UTC
I'm deep in the ocean of what I think,
so far down way farther down than the word
sink.
I sit here and think because all of my feelings I tied to a
boat and let them
sink.
no one knew, i just let it go
just like the movie frozen
and not a soul was to know
i walked back to my house feeling light
i passed by someone and said hi..
i felt airy and very cold..
then i realized with the boat i sunk to..
now my soul roams and im ocean blue
Jan 9
Jan 9, 2026 at 1:32 PM UTC