#nails
My nails are short and stubby
A sign of nerves and anxiety
My nails are red and ******
From when I yank and yank
At a hangnail
My nails are chipped
A sign of me spending every waking minute playing hockey
And every waking minute of that
Falling
Im going to grow my nails
Grow them nice and long
And Im going to fix my nails
So they dont look so wrong
Mar 21
Mar 21, 2026 at 11:06 AM UTC
did you mean it when I said I looked pretty in my dress?
when you told me my nails were super cute?
when you complemented my hair?
my makeup?
with my green converse?
did you actually mean it?
because if you actually meant it
I might never starve myself again
Feb 2
Feb 2, 2026 at 12:57 PM UTC
She painted her nails:
her toes look like little gnomes --
with scarlet red hats.
Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 3:26 AM UTC
I'd only cut my nails if someone were
To hold my hand. Nails. Claws.
I have no fur
But what I do have is the hands
Of an animal. Surely you understand
The need to pick at them? Where
Else would the energy go— skin, hair,
Knife? No matter the length
It takes the same amount of strength
To keep myself from tearing
Them apart, preparing
To get scolded later. Sharp.
Jagged. My LA
Blood is providing me no words today.
I hit the enter key
And watch as gradually
More paint comes off
But it'll never stop.
They might already
Be short but when there's a will,
There's a way;
There's no point in say
ing I'll stop because
There's no one to stop for.
No one uses the
Nail cutter anymore.
May 17, 2025
May 17, 2025 at 6:33 AM UTC
painting my nails seems so unproductive
when i could be studying for math or german or history
but i'm thinking about you.
i don't know your favorite color, or i would have painted them that shade.
though, unless your favorite color is
pink
purple
silver
crusty blue or
clear
then i guess i couldn't anyway because those are the only colors i have.
Apr 20, 2025
Apr 20, 2025 at 10:01 PM UTC
You got your nails done yesterday,
They look so pretty.
Black with white swirls,
Sleek shiny paint.
They're kind of blurry,
Maybe if you held my hand,
I could see them better.
Dec 16, 2024
Dec 16, 2024 at 10:01 AM UTC
I keep saying I carried
Us alone for a year,
In the face of
Abhorrence - derision and rage,
In truth some of each with
Much good reason,
I keep saying,
As you did,
That my love is not enough,
Keep saying that now
It's your time to shine and that Indeed now you must,
And yet even as you
Reach out in a way
I am supposed to honour,
Your tone is dipped
In censure and rebuke,
Accusation and deep ire,
What you seem not
To understand is you
Are in fact,
For all your vaunted effort,
Merely nailing our coffin lid,
Firmly,
Shut.
Sep 14, 2024
Sep 14, 2024 at 7:58 PM UTC
Cos when I bite my nails with no light to see,
I wake up in the morning to them screaming at me,
Broken, torn, and fraying at the seams.
And I think
**** why do I do this to me?
Jul 14, 2023
Jul 14, 2023 at 2:33 AM UTC
a frosting-filled slice
eaten one day is a treat -
fluffy, sweet, luxurious.
eaten every day -
nails encrusted with frosting,
cloying, drained, decayed.
Mar 20, 2022
Mar 20, 2022 at 9:36 PM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, I hate this color:)
from the couldn't write to the couldn't sleep
almost questioned the revenge from the read
to have the crumbled skin kiss the red
the lost bitten nails got teared and fed
pastel in capital letters on sand
the cruel wave washes in no clock hand
an orange flee for your life
leave a trail to follow and strive
-----ravenfeels
Jul 15, 2021
Jul 15, 2021 at 2:06 PM UTC
Tight in my grip
I feel your nails slip
Digging deep
Digging hard
She says to me
He left me a card
May 18, 2021
May 18, 2021 at 2:35 AM UTC
Long and lithe fingers,
comfort moulded into cones,
is where art kisses geometry
and meets one of its own.
Her hands are to touch
manicured and glazed,
you feel home and lost
a Pharaoh now, and next a waif
The nails, you find and wonder
filed for a student and trimmed.
Not a wisp of colour
bare as a bone, naked and skinned.
Snug in a life song,
a pallbearer of untold griefs,
they are a stark sight
of colourless coral reefs.
On but a blue moon,
they’re a savoury rare,
when hungry eyes feast
on the riotous fair.
Why, one day, I ask thee?
She would smile and wouldn’t tell.
‘Never felt like’,
is her No Comment.
May 1, 2021
May 1, 2021 at 12:25 PM UTC
Scorched skin and broken nails
This love makes me so **** frail.
Inked-on stars and shaking fingers
My heart thrives on these lurches and twinges.
Apr 26, 2021
Apr 26, 2021 at 12:47 PM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, blood is shameless;]
impurity on the ***** red
I pure I shed
hunger I fed
so loose so tight on the lead
so irritating she bled
revolting when it messes with the head
doors closed sounds spread
again unlike the befores I said
polluted on garments I five the two
onto the further of the farthest of lives
I paint I skin
I smudge the thin in the thrill
till it comes to a ****
and a breathe is willed
for nails to blood
and fingers to clot
guilty shame not guilty shameless pleasures on the lots
I care I not
--------ravenfeels
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 5:00 PM UTC
shirtless screaming through
the heartland and I used
to smoke cigarettes
too.
she never wanted
to stay: the youth
she had
left demanded it.
now, I'll wager
she's somewhere
in an apartment with
some dandy that
wears sweater vests
to Thanksgiving dinner.
maybe she thinks
about me and my little
twisted heart every
now and again:
like when she's away
from the sweater vest
on the toilet
behind a locked door,
"be right out, babe!"
or toting groceries
through a parking lot
to her car,
or signaling a
left turn before
changing her mind
and deciding to
go straight instead.
and
maybe I need to
stop thinking
about her
especially after
three years
incommunicado
but what can I say?
I've never slept on
a bed of nails
I couldn't
dream on.
Feb 27, 2021
Feb 27, 2021 at 9:34 AM UTC
The pendulum is a bull shark.
The hour of the savior is a pregnant bride's swan dive into the water.
The mighty mile is a figure 8 in the scoot of
non slop socks across the bare linoleum.
Blood and bright are the redness of the blanket.
divine terror at one hart beat per hour.
Finger nails green and black against a back drop
of the brightest, bluest eyes you've ever seen;
deep pools of liquid light that will shine when least expected.
And the obligation isn't one at all,
for when i breath in,
you breath out.
And when I gave consent 1000 years ago times 10-
you performed the exorcism under the shroud of my amnesia
and the spotted light from a crystal disco ball.
Shards of light moved upon the face of all the space between the stars.
My heart was in the highlands but now its in your hands.
Oct 2, 2020
Oct 2, 2020 at 8:15 PM UTC
" different from the first one. "
her fingers are glossy.
glossssssseeee
glossing. n
classy. i stand gazing.
like uh, a primitive, eye
she tells me their sensitive
and i believe her. because I
am quite the gullible guy
for sweet.. pretty..
cute.
.innocent. looking
things
ZAM.
she magnetically slapssss
and caresses the back of my dome.
tap tap... tap
' hmm a heavy stone, '
tap tap... tap
'it has a lot of content'... tap
tap tap .'oh'. tap tap tap
.
.
...
She begins her
journey
from the top of my head
slowly…
tippy toeing
down….
My
body
moving
her fragile nails
Like a
rehearsed fantasy..
she's been wanting
to do.
she closes in
and rests her
index finger
across my neck like a
scythe shape sun....
she approaches breathes.
in...and... whispers..
..
“What are you thinking?”
And within that.
my eyes smile.
[i don’t really know, some sort of brain activity..... ]
“I think”
[your pretty, inside, outside,worldwide, ]
[and ]
“I think”
[_<(^.^)> <(^.^<) (>^.^<) (>^.^)>]
“nothing”
She still keeps going [ it’s a long walk…………]
down,
slowly
maneuvering
in
elegant
moves.
before
closing in
....again.
this time in a more arrowed position across the more pronominal areas.
‘Why are you hesitant ?'
on being religiously
silly ?."
"Like if
you dislike
the idea of
being bright?’
[because
people are ......... ]
“Wait What???"
That’s not true.
only sometimes...
lol!@#!$!.
but still
“that's so wrong
And misleading. "
but please go on”.
Sep 6, 2020
Sep 6, 2020 at 9:32 PM UTC
You’re looking for a clean needle in a hay sack
While I’m searching for answers in a pile of nails
Apr 28, 2020
Apr 28, 2020 at 2:38 AM UTC
the witch
by michael r. burch
her fingers draw into claws
she cackles through rotting teeth ...
u ask “are there witches?”
pshaw!
(yet she has my belief)
Keywords/Tags: witch, witches, Halloween, fingers, nails, claws, talons, cackle, cackles, teeth, rotting, rotten, broom, broomstick, cat
Apr 1, 2020
Apr 1, 2020 at 4:07 AM UTC
Polish
by Michael R. Burch
Your fingers end in talons—
the ones you trim to hide
the predator inside.
Ten thousand creatures sacrificed;
but really, what’s the loss?
Apply a splash of gloss.
You picked the perfect color
to mirror nature’s law:
red, like tooth and claw.
I thought about titling or subtitling this one “A mini-ode to manicure” but thought better of it. Please note that this poem is not about female predators but the way the human race “glosses over” its predatory nature. We may appear to be “civilized” but what are we doing to the planet and its other inhabitants? Keywords/Tags: polish, nails, talons, claws, predator, gloss, loss, red, tooth, claw, pollution, climate change, global warming, mass extinction, genocide
Apr 1, 2020
Apr 1, 2020 at 3:58 AM UTC
Your insecurities
will rot you inside out.
And when your corpse
comes begging for forgiveness,
I shall be nailing
the last nail to the coffin.
Jan 28, 2020
Jan 28, 2020 at 10:55 PM UTC
In my fantasies,
The dark and deep,
Where fog pools at our feet,
And the cries echo in the distance,
And sigh in defeat.
You wait for me,
Standing in all your glory,
Laying out in all your pride,
You stare me down,
Hot and heavy,
With lust burning in your eyes.
You reach for me,
Fingers stretch,
You groan for me,
With slight hums under your breath.
Your skin meets mine,
The sparks erupt,
It's perfect,
Heavenly even.
You're my muse,
My inspiration,
My reason is you.
You hold my waist,
Nails digging in,
You lean,
Lips pursed,
We kiss,
Gently.
You press,
Harder, harder,
I bite your lip,
Breaking skin,
Breaking everything,
We sin.
Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 10:05 AM UTC
When specks of ash float on the breath of the last great tree,
When the heat Scorches the final blade of grass to dust,
When the sun dares to rise again,
We will prevail.
When the ocean’s great white waves blow back black,
When the last leaf sways down to its final resting place,
When the clouds seem to always cry,
We will rise.
When the breeze whispers it's melodious secrets,
When the earth stops beating the drum of its heart,
When the water’s legato rhythm becomes jagged,
When the fire eats up everything that is left,
We will feast.
We will devour the last of mankind.
We will peel skin,
We will pick nails,
We will lick the very fingers that once fed us.
Unforgiving,
We take the young.
Heartless,
We watch them burn.
Happily,
We yearn for more.
In the end,
I rise to take my throne.
Stepping on empty skulls,
Snapping, cracking, and
Creaking to sit upon the empty wasteland of bones.
I smile,
Sitting back to admire my creation.
The birth of something new.
A perfect melody built just for you,
And this time, you better sing.
Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 11:47 AM UTC