Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
  Apr 2017 The Dragon Prince
I was born into this shadow of beauty we call the American dream, but I was raised in foreign silhouettes. The same exact silhouettes that raised my mother. My first memories were of her forest gods and alpine stories that have taught me how to write spiderwebs into the hearts of the miserable so my words could hold them together. My deadushka's magic could turn monsters into swans with a wink because his love was so contagious. My babushka's, on the other hand, showed me how to howl like darkness so even the wolves would know silence. I was born as spilled as it comes; as ink.  I now understand what tragedies look like at first;  ("Blessings")

As my mother picks her way across a war with me in her arms, the world catcalls that I am a half-blood puppet. The daughter with Russian strings and American footsteps. I arrive in America where I am reminded I belong here, but that was the first lie that my mother ever fed to me. To this day, it still tastes like expired love.

As my father spent all his kindness on me in the earliest years of my life I was given an English tongue and it bullied my Russian one into suicide. That is the only thing my father ever planted in me that he wanted to grow. Those seeds of words I would later bear fruit as ripe poetry.  Those fruit of the novels I will someday write as fiction into flesh. However, what is written beneath our skin doesn't necessarily always fit in our mouths. My father's greatest mistake was beating me into a ghost, but giving me the power to write about his hauntings.  His abuse moves into our house shortly after he realizes I am a tragedy, not a blessing.

As I write myself into the moon one day I will become, I meet a boy who's laughter makes all the planets look dull.  We learn to not walk like apologies, but like young legends. He was my first real taste of sunlight since I was brought here, and he spoke heaven into my eyes until I saw it. We loved each other like Peter Pan and Wendy did; deeply, cluelessly, and forever. Our immortality was a toy in the eyes of those who envied us. Yet he summoned the fires we should have feared as kids, but instead we stared into them and smiled. We were happy, and we were never sorry for that.

April 3rd, 2007. He died. That was the day I was old enough to grow out of a blessing and into the clothes of a tragedy. That was the day the heaven spilled from my eyes like the great flood and went with him. My mother theorizes that is why my eyes aren't as blue as hers anymore. The sounds of bullets hitting bodies today, even ten years later, between then and long ago, has the power to create painful afterimages of him. The post traumatic stress unfastens my blood from my my body and the poetry reacts by shutting me down all at once. Death asks me to write a spiderweb into his own heart, but I refuse.

I adopted grief into my family and he got along with abuse pretty well. To survive, I've left the nostalgia of that boy to hibernate deep in my bones.

Today is April 3rd, 2017.  I stand before a headstone that exists only sometimes in my head. I kneel before it and leave the skeleton of my love like a bouquet of roses. The shadows and silhouettes align, and I hold hands with both of them.

I weep as the odes of "it's not your fault" fall onto my ears like they do every year. From friends, lovers, and family. They mean well. Who knows, maybe someday I will have what it takes to believe them.

But he never grew up, so guilt still ***** it's wings here.

---"Sermons with a colorblind priest."
© Copywrite Skaidrum
  Mar 2017 The Dragon Prince
Seize the night
The satisfaction of loneliness?
Like a mellow grey afternoon and knowing no one can take it away from you.
Let it draw all over the lining of your blood
The thing about solitude is that you see it’s beauty with time and it gets sweeter and sweeter.
And let me have a taste of that morning dove honey
It's only offered to those who die every second a little and the world ends every night for them.
And that is why I have decided
to leave your house and home unhaunted
Yet the ghosts resound in your footsteps
you were rain with him but are a hurricane on your own
Broke the spell to find that
nothing changed in me
"It will be all right."

These words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

I miss you.

The first thing I professed
was not the warm feeling I had whenever I saw her
Nor was it that it was I who had sent her flowers
And signed it
"your admirer”

The first thing I admitted
Was my fear
That everything I touched

I remember what you did,
Just like it was yesterday.

Your eyes brimmed with tears,
And you smiled a sad smile.
I smiled back.
The first time we were together
It was at your house
You showed me your dearly loved piano
And played me my favorite song
“Clair de Lune”

Wringing the keys dry of passion
I remember thinking
If I poured my soul out like you had
Just maybe,
you’d fall for me.

You showed me
The spines of books you read countlessly
Finger fluttering over every title,
Tracing each word
Like I would your stomach
Each night you spent in my bed
You told me that I
“was like the ocean.”
I didn’t know what that meant at the time.
Moon moon moon moon
The word I engraved in your ribs
every time I touched you.
My moon.
My lovely moon with sky blue eyes,
That never stopped moving.

I wish you could stare at me like I had you
Maybe you could have seen
That every moment I spent
My gaze was on yours.
But perhaps it was better that way.


I was bitter.
You told me not to be.
and so I wasn’t


Christmas Eve I came over for dinner
And I bought your mother chocolates
In hopes she would learn to savor you
Like the box she held in her hand.

I never told you how jealous I was
That you had your mother
Despite her flaws

That night I saw you cry for the first time.
When I held you in my arms
You shook because of your father.
You asked me why god would do this to you.

I had no answer
Other than
“I don’t know.”

I should’ve told you
How I had wished I was in your place
That I would take the pain for you.
But I didn’t.
I know you never would have wanted it that way.
When your birthday came
I gave you a jadestone bracelet I had crafted myself
I did not tell you the time I took,
Or what it had cost.
I had hoped you would treasure it
Like I to you.
A month ago I saw my loving jade
On your best friend’s wrist.

I did not tell you how much that had hurt.
You gravitated towards him
And grew closer with others
I drifted
Oh like the sea
That March I went to California to see my ma.
I don’t recall if I told you
That every night
I watched that sun sink into the coast.
And it reminded me
The way your hand held mine.

When I came back you spoke of nothing but sadness
I tried endlessly
To tie a knot in that poison-filled vein.
But the sickness spread.
I wish I could’ve been your cure.

You were sand slipping between my fingers
And I did not know how to tell you
That my waves had lost purpose
If there was no shore.
Come Back

“Captain O’ Captain,
The eye of the sea
Was the bottom of her heart.”

Summer had come
We had spent one tired night watching fields of fireflies
At 1:49 am

I couldn’t find words
To tell you my heart had danced
Like every one of those little lights
When someone even breathed your name.
I wish I had
Summer had gone


When fall had struck
You left me.


My thoughts clammered in disbelief

You told me it was because it was you and not me.
Just some sort of cliché I suppose.
Months later when I asked
You said it was because you thought I had feelings for another.
How foolish I was for letting you believe that
For even a second.

I should have told you
Your soul had sunk a hole in my chest
that beated to the sound of your voice.

My heart sang a sick melody*
Two years have past
Last week you told me you left
Because you didn’t feel loved.
You never saw the way my eyes traced up and down your body
but always pulled back to your face

I remember what you did,
Just like it was yesterday.
When I confessed
You kissed every one of my fingertips,
And said that you did
so that everything I touched
would feel loved.

Oh, how I wish those words were true.
My Captain O' Captain,
I know not where the moon dips from the sky,
Nor where she sunk in the sapphire sea.
  Mar 2017 The Dragon Prince
new moon
"just let me sleep,"
moon eaten
my absence upsets all.
Look at me, really look at me,
stare up at the belly of a loved sky,
watch fingers dipping into bowls of blood holding hope,
feeling around for a sliver,
of sweet milk,
of relief,
of anything;

new moon whispers
on the dead bodies left behind,
god sighs---
he knows;

"I am not the same"

waxing crescent
map out my wreckage,
my skeleton of poetry;
in the spines of books loved by mankind,
bury me there in a pages of flowers---
in the altitude of words;
read me with a hunger you have never known before,
over and over;
whenever it seems fit~
like the light of the moon is a cigarette.

he's always smoking now.
god takes another drag;
he describes to me:

"You could be my bible,
you book of blood"

I can't stand smoke...

"I have no business in being your  holy snakeskin."

first quarter
I've been searching for
solid ground, solid shadows,
a solid compromise;

I wanted a little more
than ordinary love from him so I

asked him where the static began,
for me it's below my bottom left rib
and found that it was also where the spiders started too.

Time, that quiet thing
obeys god, only
because it waits for no one

it loves
unzipping the law of alchemy,
cause ink flowered in my blood again;
I should thank time
it was this saving kind of grace;
always has been

god stroked my hair this time
and said quietly:

"You see,
the saddest thing is realizing
that there's nothing more they can do for you"

waxing gibbous
Oh, where's my love?
Is it in the fever I call happiness,
is it in the sword my mama raised me to be

Is it in the way
the moon tiptoes closer
when he says my name
in that beautiful way he does

or breaks my name
over his teeth like it's just
glass apples

God doesn't even look at me
he doesn't have to;

"Do you believe in angels?"

the wreckage answers him
"not lately"

full moon
And it begins again
I watch as he just looks away
and says it's fine
it hurts

god narrows his eyes but shrugs

"Pain had other plans for you."

I breathe out raggedly;

"I guess,
if there's no key
then I'll just swallow the whole door."

I trusted you.
I love you more than anything.
© Copywrite Skaidrum
Now I just think about who else is kissing her.
I can't breathe because he only kisses her once.
He doesn't care if it's perfect.
You used to smile.
  Feb 2017 The Dragon Prince
Riding high on crests
Whispers hidden 'neath the waves,
Our desire to drown
Next page