#harshreality
when the paper needs to fit in a metaphor
the meaning becomes subtle enough
it breaks all movement of the mouth
but the words never leave
never leave...
it could be a Billie Jean of the century
she cries wolf towards the moon
moon,
and the men hear with their children
and become afraid and accusatory
of the lover and his son
and sun?
but the words never leave
the meaning becomes subtle enough
words enough?
it breaks all movement of the mouth
when the paper needs to fit the metaphor
(fit!)
it can be the Riding Hood of the past
she sighs at the wolf's sharpening
and the pack will hear with their stomachs
will hear?
and they become hungry and sore
of the girl and her love
her love
the meaning becomes subtle enough
when the metaphor needs to fit the paper
it breaks all movement of the soul
but the words never die
(die!)
Mar 16
Mar 16, 2026 at 11:39 PM UTC
yes, I'm a poet
and I'm proud of it too
but reality sinks in letting me wallow in self-pity
I'll always be the poet
never a poem
I'll write about their eyes
their laugh
their perfect imperfections
but no one will capture my laugh
my smile
my beautiful flaws
I will always be a poet
but never a poem
I will write about beauty and grace
about love and heartache
but no one will turn me into a poem
I am stuck giving people words
and never getting any in return
Mar 18, 2025
Mar 18, 2025 at 8:00 AM UTC
I have always been the sweet charm and favorite of all people at home,
But, there always comes a but,
But I am "the girl" I must understand,
But I am "the eldest" I must know,
But I am "the quietest" I must be smart,
But I am "the senior" I must set good example,
And in this series of But and examples I managed to keep my dream and passion to myself in order to be perfect for my younger,
But I always sit and wonder
Am I really good?
Or am I teaching my youngers to be fake?
Am I really setting an good example?
Or am I setting an example of being what others except you to be?
What if I am the worst?
What if they found out that I am FAKE?
Will I'd be the perfect person then?
May 5, 2021
May 5, 2021 at 9:16 AM UTC
I have a dream.
Not a noble, revolutionary one that will change the discourse of humanity,
but one which would most definitely change my own life,
and possibly yours.
We are driving in your car, which in my imagination is a dark blue skoda octavia, but frankly it doesn't matter,
'cause I'm smiling looking out the window and fighting with you over the radio channel choice.
The smell from the basket of muffins I baked secured on the back seat is wafting through the air,
and I'm playfully slapping away your wondering right hand up my left thigh which the little white summer dress I'm wearing can in no way cover,
only to reach out and ruffle your hair and the back of your neck 'cause I truly can never get enough of you.
You are smiling too, 'cause you know, you always do.
100 miles later as we pull in front of your childhood home I'm excited and nervous at the same time,
so you do have to coax me out of the car and we walk hand in hand to the door and just as you reach out to ring the bell,
I hide behind you trying to pull myself together and touch up on my smile,
but as the door opens I'm back by your side smiling 'cause your grip on my hand is more assuring than anything I've felt before.
I'm shy at first but your mom is lovely,
though it must be hard to see her little boy next to another woman,
God knows I could never share you.
The twinkle in your dad's eyes may as well be a reflection of yours,
his handshake is strong, warm and reassuring.
Your little brother, whose already growing on me, is making eyes at you and you're warning him, almost threatening him to behave, silently of course, it's all in the eyes.
I take in the house,
the corridors through which you ran, fell and got up again,
the walls which echo your laughter, pain, sorrow, fears, achievements and failures,
and stood strong throughout every step of your life's journey in becoming the man you are,
it's like a story, a novel or a theatrical extravaganza unfolding in front of my eyes.
I follow your mom to the kitchen, not because I want to be the perfect domesticated future daughter in law,
but rather because it's where I find comfort.
The stove and oven are hard at work, and I immediately take over peeling potatoes,
as I try to make conversation with your mom in my incredibly limited vocabulary,
and I can tell she appreciates the effort.
When we sit to eat I'm already at home and I just cannot stop smiling,
because it's absolutely perfect.
It's a little too perfect.
After all it's just a dream. My dream. A cliché.
But dreams, hopes and expectations apart I just wish I knew,
if we were more than ***
If I knew I'd at least have the truth,
because we both know dreams, particularly the perfect ones,
almost never come true.
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 5:25 PM UTC
As she descended the castle stairs,
on her body were a thousand vicious glares.
Through the multitude blew a silent gust,
and she didn't know it was filled with lust.
She saw charming faces but hidden were their fangs,
and she couldn't possibly hear the dagger clangs.
Thirsty wolves under the hides of men,
waiting patiently to drag her to their den.
Away from the demons stood an ugly beast,
only on the blue moonlight he would feast.
With the heart of a lion but skin of a bear,
to look at his face, you would never dare.
A burst of golden glow brighter than the moonlight,
spread all over the hall and rushed into his eyesight.
To see a goddess on earth he was surprised,
he hid behind the curtains for he was despised.
Looking back at the moon he remembered her words true,
"I would **** myself than be married to you."
Seeing another wolf put a ring on her finger,
he tries to erase her thoughts that still linger.
The fairytales you've read aren't true anymore,
neither are the morals that they once bore.
The beauty isn't for the beast today,
it is for the charming wolves to slay.
Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 7:51 AM UTC
One that you’re sure is meant to be
One that fills all your senses
And makes you feel complete
One that brings contentment,
Peace, hope and joy, too
How do you say goodbye
To the other half of you?
When you find a love so beautiful
One that awakens all your dreams
One that brings such happiness
And makes you feel carefree
How do you find the strength
To simply let it go;
How do you say goodbye
To a part of your soul?
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 12:14 PM UTC
Close your eyes,
and imagine.
Imagine your own world,
everything that makes you happy, and smile.
Drifting off to a deep slumber,
as you feel your soul goes down,
deeper.
You see the people, things, and smells that
make you smile.
Your dream is a magical paradise.
It is your escape from harsh reality,
whenever you want to escape, just simply close
your eyes.
and think of the happy things.
Nothing well go wrong in there,
my friend.
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 4:04 AM UTC