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Ink
An artistic collaboration with skyblueandblack:

Ink the paper and quiver the heart...
Pines purred over the delusions of life..
Nostalgia attired with blue...
ridden by red,
inundating the heart....
Love lumps into words...
as emotions spurt through the ink eschewing
the brink of tears...
Fingers crave the curvatures of letters..
exposing the embodiment of emotions,
Here--
catharsis alludes through meteors of words...
pastiche of existence plunges through paper...
ergo the liminal of "conversation with the creation"...





Thoughts reverberate through the reed of my heart,

And it resonates through my words...
...To skyblueandblack: I am truly grateful for the expurgation...thank you....:)
I am 17
An average teen age girl
I hangout with friends
and I'm dating a football player

Just like any other 17 year old
I have a cell phone
And yes I jump up and down
Every time I get a new follower
On any social site I have an account on

And just like any other 17 year old
I forgot the meaning of life
In fact I don't think I knew life had a meaning

I was born into a life filled with four things
Greediness
Technology  
Money
And Selfishness

In this life
That I was so unfortunately born into
We pay more attention to a new tweet
Than to the loving man whom created us

In this life
We worry more about a new instagram follower
Than too a mother dyeing with cancer
And instead of reading the word of God to a dyeing mother
We check to see if we have a new snapchat

In this life
People call themselves Christians
And they don't even go to church

Open your eyes
Do you see that darkness surrounding your life?
Turn that to light
Read the Bible
Instead of twitter
Keep up with our creator
Instead of a follower
You are a sculpture of human beauty,
A gilded paragon of sexuality
The likes of which bring even gods to their knees,
Wailing and gnashing their teeth
At this affront, this mockery,
This proof of their own woeful inadequacy

You make trees strain to shade you,
And the sun blushes to bring light to your eyes
The winds gasp to cool you,
And the clouds shed tears at your paralyzing grace

You are shock and you are awe,
You are passion and you are fire,
And I long to be doused
In your everlasting flames
Contempress,
Red mouthed darkness,
You weave your webs and spit out death,
Serum of poison lies in between your chest,
I cannot reach in for that coffin lies my rest.
I spread your ashes across my skin,
Black out my eyes and begin to fall,
Across my eyelids I feel you crawl,
In my head,
Inside my brain,
The serum of you,
A sweet taste of pain.
A widow of you,
The shadows across the weave,
Pull out your infecting vangs,
Leave all to grieve.
A widow of you beautiful and divine.
You, yourself, are on an hour glass of time.
Oh crimson red!
Her hourglass of dread!
You cannot pray upon the living dead,
The soulless walkers in which you crawl right inside.
With you red widow,
You divide,
Heaven or Hell where will you reside?
Vain in you I abide!
When will this web go?
Time is the enemy,
Young or Old,
Beauty is forever,
Externally resting in our soul.
A piece of you
Reflecting back
The bitter words in your mouth
Too raw to speak
A poet is
Someone in pain
And someone in love
Someone who looks at the world
Through a kaleidoscope
Who takes a magnifying glass to each
And every
Word you say
And lets them imprint on their heart
A poet is
A star gazer
A dreamer
A chaser of
The improbable
But hopes anyway
A poet is
Tissue paper skin
A heart of glass
And a soul of titanium

A poet is
A sharp tongue
And a gentle kiss
She is a sob
He is a sigh
A poet is
The sun at midnight
Bright and
Burning
Hot
Alive
But cloaked in a darkness
They cannot shake
The brightest day
And the darkest night
A poet is
The human experience
A paradox
An oxymoron
So complicatedly
Simple

A poet is
A lover
Who refuses
To stop wearing their heart on their sleeve
No matter how much it bleeds
But rolls them up
So you can’t see
The blood stains


A poet
Is Poetry
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