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Jun 2013 · 1.0k
The Pythia
Tessellate Jun 2013
She abides in her circular chamber,
prophet to the oracular God.

Perched delicately a top a three-legged mount,
engulfed in a haze,
an hallucinogenic cloak.
A mystic figure,
clutching branches of laurel in her Delphian hands,
a bronze bowl of water cradled consciously in her lap.

Her hair as dark as the fates she acquaints.
A cape of red flows like the blood
of those who perished from her
manic counsels.

Aberration is evident in her dazed eyes.
At times her body thrashes
with apparent anger and confusion.
Her limbs then go limp.
A painted smile bleeding across her face,
delirium manifested.

A warning set in stone:
“Know thy self.”
Pay no attention to the opinion of the masses:
advice to be heeded.

The hollow-horned shivers
from head to hoof.
Sacrificed for knowledge of the future
yet unknown.

Her hysterical beauty sanctions
the nonsensical prophecies.

“My wife is with child,
if I contend with the enemy,
will I return to my family?”

She stares into the water,
her face distorted,
for the reflection she sees is not her own.

"You will go,
you will return,
not in the battle you will perish."
Her red cape became
more prominent in colour.
Her ambiguity brought a child
into the world
without a father.

"You will go,
you will return not,
in the battle you will perish."
the Greek Oracle at Delphi
May 2013 · 890
I am forgotten
Tessellate May 2013
I am alone
there is no one here to hold my hand
and tell me that everything's
going to be ok

I am alone, i am forgotten
Tessellate May 2013
but since the leaves fell down,
I've been alone.

You left with the breeze,
without a single word.

You moved on like the
May 2013 · 455
Tessellate May 2013
It's funny because things are different, even though so much is the same.
That's what makes it unbearable.
May 2013 · 634
I want to be beautiful
Tessellate May 2013
I want to be beautiful
like the flowers in your hair.
I want to retain that dear perfection,
that lays deep within your soul.

I want to smell as sweet
as the grass beneath your feet.
May 2013 · 483
Tessellate May 2013
bring me to the edge of the tide, but don't push me in
I am already drowning.
May 2013 · 665
flowers in your hair
Tessellate May 2013
to die with flowers in your hair,
red lips and smudged black eyes.
wearing a lace dress:
alas, your brains are blown out.
May 2013 · 431
I am afraid
Tessellate May 2013
the feelings are scary,
and I don't know what
to do.
May 2013 · 1.6k
Tessellate May 2013
you were supposed to
relieve my pockets of pebbles
to keep my head above the water,
only you replaced the pebbles with bricks.
my callow attempt to breathe only kills me faster.
May 2013 · 304
No more
Tessellate May 2013
i want everything back
or I want to die.
I'm done with this in between
Tessellate May 2013
this is me
drifting away to the stars
to forget about you.
but you follow,
the stars are
no longer ours.

leave me be
May 2013 · 432
I want you to love me
Tessellate May 2013
I want you to love me
more than
the drugs
that fill you with artificial

you're in my veins,
let me in.
Apr 2013 · 1.3k
Stability of Instability
Tessellate Apr 2013
I find comfort in the place inside my head where I can think.  A place forever changing with the instability of my emotional state.  This special place is a canvas being painted as my life progresses, in the deep blues of despair and soft yellows of contentment. Borrowing smells, visions, and people of memories past and present to build a beautiful escape from reality.  It is impossible to remember an exact moment in this place, as it, like all matter, is in a constant state of motion.

Somedays the bright light of early morning is shining in, the dust particles collecting and shimmering like glitter in the air.  I can hear birds chirping, harmonizing with the soft, kind voices of my childhood.  A hand reaches out to touch mine, their thumb stroking the top of my hand and their fingers tickling the inside of my palm, as if to say: “It's okay, you're here with me now”.  Whose hand that is, I can never quite be sure.

There are times where I sit with my cheek against the cold damp window, watching the water scrambling and morphing into new shapes and sizes as it runs down the glass, listening to the rain pounding an unsteady rhythm to which the thunder and lightening dance.  The looming darkness intensifies the sound of beating hearts and broken voices.  But once again, a hand touches mine: “It's okay, you're here with me now”.  Regardless of the emotions it may evoke and the darkness that may linger, it is always much safer than reality here.  

At times I am alone in this place with only the babbling of a nearby brook, or the comforting melody of a familiar song to keep me company.  Here, I am allowed to be in a moment without the threat of interruption.  Here, I am able to think, to breathe.  

It can be a place of panic, anguish, or even hopelessness; but no matter how it's ambiance is affected by my mental state, it will always be a place of stability.

In this moment, my special place is far from this room that confines me.  It is full of the people I ache to see again, full of memories of times before bad decisions robbed me of all that meant anything in my life.  The song “July” by Youth Lagoon is playing: “If I had never let go, then only God knows where I would be now.  I built a bridge between us and then slowly burned it.  Five years ago, in my backyard I sang love away.  Little did I know that real love had not quite yet found me”.

Today it is a place of regret and desire, and the hand is one I long to hold again.
An in-class assignment on "My Special Place". 25 line poem or 400 word prose, I clearly chose the prose. Feel free to add grammatical corrections in a personal message.
Nov 2012 · 19.7k
the thought of being naked.
Tessellate Nov 2012
i had a thought.
i ran out of my room,
down the hallway,
and into the bathroom.

i wriggled out of my worn down, tie dye shirt.
hopping up and down as i pull off my
high-waisted jeans, pulling my pant leg with my foot as i
trample the dark denim to the ground.

i stand there naked, in front of the
harsh, full length mirror.
combing my fingers through my natural, wavy hair.
i contort my face in disgust, cocking
my head slightly to the side.

i close my eyes, and take one deep breath in.
when i open my eyes,
the reflection staring back at me is a thin, natural

Her smooth ivory skin glows in the
silvery reflective glass.
Her stomach is flat and toned.
Her ******* lay on Her chest in perfect
proportion to the rest of her petite frame.

i run my fingers down the sides of my body.
my palms trailing along, dipping and
rising with the mounds beneath my skin.

i close my eyes and open them again,
this time taking my reflection for
what it really is.

i am fat.
my skin is pink and spotted with freckles the
colour of blood.

my stomach hangs low, covering the part
a man should see when i'm naked.

my ******* are big.
but not in the way you'd like them to be.
they lay there, sort of lop-sided.
hanging just above my ribs. Another place for
fat to take over.

the cuts on my thighs are hardly noticable
next to




i can see tears in the eyes of the reflection staring back at me,
but i am numb.

i thought correctly. i am
fat. i am ****.
Nobody in their right mind would want to
love me.
Nov 2012 · 4.3k
Tessellate Nov 2012
The world around me is silent.
I can see the leaves floating,
in mercy of the crisp wind.
I see the children playing,
too young to know the pain that
drips from the intentional wounds in my flesh.
I see those who were once my friends,
holding hands and kissing the one's they love.
All this life goes on around me,
still I hear nothing.
Nothing but the sound of my old self screaming;
locked away in that special place inside of me,
to which I've seemed to have lost the key.
Nov 2012 · 3.5k
Don't do drugs
Tessellate Nov 2012
I sold my soul to the
I feel the blood rush to my
I am no longer myself,
I gave my clothes to the earth,
Please don't take advantage of me.
don't do drugs, okay?
Nov 2012 · 5.9k
To my old friend
Tessellate Nov 2012
Why is there so much hate between us?
So much spite.

All we ever do is fight.

I don't know what to do without you,
but you're fine.

You tell lies about me all the time.

I'd do anything for you, you know.
You hate me.

One day I'll ******* die, and you'll see.

Please just stop playing games with my head.
I love you.

That's a lie. ****, I wish you were dead.
Nov 2012 · 4.1k
i fucking hate poetry
Tessellate Nov 2012
i write poems for fun.
help me.

i write poems for fun during lunch,
while all the other kids live their adolescent lives.

i write poems for fun on weekends,
while others are experimenting with drugs and alcohol at awesome house parties.

i write poems for fun alone,
while everyone else explores each other's bodies.

i write poems for fun. i cut myself for fun,
while all you other ******* actually have fun.

i write poems for fun.
help me.
probably one of my worst pieces, although very true.
Tessellate Nov 2012
i acted cool.
You know, like how they do it on TV.

27 floors up,
your door was unlocked.

i didn't take my shoes off,
that way you could see the bad *** i really am,
deep down.

You know, you told me you loved me.
That's why I came.
i believed you.

Oh, how naive of you, i think back now.

I sat on your beat-down chair,
while you sprawled out on the floor-level couch.

I was terrified,
but the kids on TV are never scared.

He said he loved you.
No one else has ever felt that way before.
He loves you, kid.
You can do it.

Come cuddle on the couch?
Meh, maybe if i feel like it later.

Play. It. Cool.

i slide unto the foot of your ***-stained sofa.
i can feel your feet shaking behind my back,
your toes teasing my sides,
poking in and out between my ribs.

i know what you want,
and i want it too.

Keep. It. Cool. Kid. Keep it Cool.

i feel my hands slip out of your tight grasp,
my fingers inching their way up your leg,
following the dips of your pelvic bone.

What is happening?

The taste of you is so foreign to me.
i've never known the sweetness of another human being.

Let's go to your room?

Kid, it's just like on TV.

Okay, yeah, i guess if you really want to.

i didn't want to take my clothes off.

The world was spinning,
i was seeing and feeling things i didn't know to exist.

What is happening?

i love you.
i love you, i love you.

it's all over,
i leave.
27 floors of shame.

not only don't you love me,

you don't talk to me.
Nov 2012 · 5.3k
you say you want to die
Tessellate Nov 2012
i hate to see you this way.
You are my best friend,
i am yours.

You can't just die.
Dying isn't going to fix you,
or heal you.

i want to help you,
but i can't.

Our lives are so deeply intertwined,
but we are both so broken.

I want to hold you and tell you that
everything is going to be okay,
but the truth is,
it's not.

You say you want to die.
You say no one will care,
no one understands you.

Well, what about me?
We are One. I can feel your heart
pound in my chest. I can also feel as you
tear it to shreds.

So if you die,
what about me?

I will die.
You can't leave the autumn leaves that crunch beneath
Our feet.
You can't vanish from all the photos We took, the memories
We share.


If you leave this world,
you'll leave it a murderer.
because at the moment Your heart stops in
My chest
i will die.
My best friend is going through some tough times, as am i. Together, we are just a mess blood and sorrow. But we are one, she can't leave me no matter how hard she tries.
Nov 2012 · 4.6k
i think i hate You
Tessellate Nov 2012
for of lies we tell
the truth

i tell you how i feel,and
you do the
-same?(neither of could possibly
tell the truth)because
the other would think it of a lie

but when you tell me a lie,i take it as the
when i tell the truth(to you)its
a lie?

would i be wrong(although i am right),to assume
that somewhere in the word


Iabsolutelyha(you mean more to me than
the water to the stream)teyou

we will never
work out. we just don't understand
i hope you don't find this too confusing. i was inspired by ee cummings with this one.
Nov 2012 · 15.5k
The special place inside of me
Tessellate Nov 2012
Save me.
Save me from the
place inside of me that Loathes my

help, it is pulling me
Dragging me deeper into to this
cold place
full of everything i hate. like
you, and me.
i hate You more than anything on the face of this planet, well
except for me.

i hate me hate me more than a mother hates the murderer of Her
own Child.

this Calamitous pit inside me
like a Rabbit's hole i can
Never escape, no matter how i
scratch at the sides until my

there is a lot of blood
in this place.
It's the poison inside of me, the reason
why i breathe in short, wispy breaths. It's got to be
the answer. i've got to get the poison

i dig and dig.
dig, dig, dig, dig
and not once do i cry
of pain.

i dig and dig. deeper
and deeper.
the Hot Malicious wine of my pain flows all around me and the world turns grey as my head begins to spin. i hear You. i know how much You hate me.


the only colour i see now is the deep red of a rose as i clench my hands tighter around the thorns and then


The sound of my own breath
shocks me. i lay at the bottom of the bottomless cistern inside of my soul.
the air in my lungs hissing, as i lay there broken. Vulnerable.  
in a pool of my own sorrow, thick and dark. You have left me
to die.

You were the only one i let into this place
You pushed me down. You killed me

please Someone help before the rasp in my chest completely fades.
i just threw this one together. also, i have this thing for grammar where i just make it up as i go.
i never capitalize "i", because i am not important.

— The End —