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Iska 2d
“What’s the harm?” they whisper,
“What’s the problem
in being everyone’s fantasy?”

“In having all of your friends
find your flesh attractive?”
“Having the pretty privilege
morph into the entitlement of others?”

As they claim my skin
and caress my bones.
Peeling pieces of my body
and making themselves at home.


Consent is implied
within the lines
of whatever bond we hold.

Friends, family, lovers.
What’s the harm in giving them
what they want,
what they demand they need.
In watching them eat you up
With a never ending greed.

“But you’re my fantasy”
as if I’m obligated
to the impressions of me
you’ve shoved down my throat.

Until I’m choking and sobbing
pleading you to relinquish your hold.

Your eyes leave imprints and bruises
as you salivate over a body
I don’t even see.
It was only 3rd grade.
Again, when merely rending
the damaged goods of a teen.
By the time I was an adult
it was the only way I was seen.

But age matters not,
when you were never perceived
as a human being,

simply a desire
for others to devour.

“What’s the harm in being a *** dream?”
They scream “we’re all friends here”
as they render my sobriety to shreds
Only to tell me that it’s all in my head.

Society taught me to turn a blind eye,
“what’s the harm?” It said with a sigh.
They drugged me with ignorance,
refuting my plea.

A passing inconvenience for you
Born of my own naïveté,
is a trauma memory
that I can never undo.

There isn’t a piece of me
you’ve not seen,
nothing left of myself
to discover.

You’ve rendered my own exploration
into nothing more than a detour.

You’ve taken every first
I could have claimed
and thought to beat a dog
was the equivalent of making it tame.
 
So now I’m sobbing into a void
wondering why I was ever
a thing that you could destroy?
What is left of me? /angry
4d · 79
Leaking time
Iska 4d
Days flit by
like a
Drip
Drip
Drip
Drop


As If watching a leaky faucet
In a plugged sink
The drops are slow to build
Weighted down by their own mass
As they reach a point where gravity
can no longer be surpassed,
To a
Drip
Drip
Drip
Drop


As they fall into the basin
scattering ripples
And splattering droplets
As they fall
Gathering light in a glittering bowl
As the next drop slowly begins to flow
By the
Drip
Drip
Drip
Drop


But once you’re attention is pulled
And the visual is no longer there
Only a sound heard
Consistent tempo filling the air
Seeming to speed
where eyes can’t see
And the budding drops
fall carelessly
With a
Drip
Drip
Drip
Drop


before you know it the basin is filled
With the drops cascading
beyond ones will
And the ripples now
scatter to waves against the brim
Caving to gravities endless whim
As a
Drip
Drip
Drip
Drop


Once you notice, it’s far too late
The marble is shimmering
with streams and ponds
As it tallies the fee of water wasted
So too does time slip from the basin
And the coins we pay
exchanged with age
To a
Drip
Drip
Drip
Drop


Before you know it
time has come to a stop
along with both
the drip
and the drop
4d · 370
To eat is to live;
Iska 4d
Unrelatedly,
I’ve lost my appetite.
•not a cry for help. Just a thought that flit through my mind some months ago•
Iska 6d
You may not know it:
But your words
They eat away at me

Each harsh remark
taking bite size chunks
out of my capacity to last the day.

Unknowingly sharpened to weapons
Wielded against my rational evaluation
cutting away the ability
To complete the tasks of the day.

Your pressured speech
It suffocates my ability to communicate
My garbled words gurgle and ooze
like life blood from a hollow wound.

Hours of anxiety are whittled away
with the chisel of your exasperation
A moment for you stretches on to my year
You’ve moved on and I’m frozen here.

Your words are weighted
And my sodden corpse
cannot process the flow of your disdain.

I mumble apologies
and miscommunication
as you add another layer
Like a wheel at a fair
we loop;

Until it skips
like a record
and you hop off the track.

I look over and you’re gone
As I sit on the rubble of the rest of my day
Wondering if you kissed me goodbye.

Carrying the strength of your volume
Ringing through my mind
Pleading with eggshells
to splinter in silence
for fear of continuing the cycle’s chime.

You may not know this:
But your words
Impress upon me
An echo of the mind

Much like drowning
I choke as I consume
Inflicting wounds
You never knew were there.
Iska 6d
“What is the reason, I wonder?
What could possibly be the cause?
For her to evoke such a response of antiphon?
I find myself forgetting. Failing to recall
what it was like to ever be without her.
Finding all other plans to be forgone,
in favor of chasing after her.
As she sings her feather dusted song,
The entirety of whole world
seems to be strung along.
What a perplexing existence,
yet I cannot help but to be enthralled.
Perchance this is what it means to be swept away at the whims of the squall.”

—iska’s musing 2020
6d · 115
Dusty Promises
Iska 6d
I find your words to be empty.
Much like collectible ornate journals
lined up on a shelf.
Stunning to behold.
Carrying the weight of so much
promise and potential,
but of no substance.
I find myself choking
on the dust between
the pages of words
you never mean.
Oct 2020 · 333
Surface
Iska Oct 2020
Kinda wanna drive off a bridge
not gonna lie.
Not to die but to just...
pause I guess.
To be surrounded and confined
by the weight and presence of the waves. With nothing but the sound of the water
to encase you.
Maybe it’s the feeling of sinking I crave.
Or maybe it’s surrendering to the depths just to see what waits there.
In a sense it’s drowning without death. Just sinking so deep and for so long that this push and pull of the water reversed the top with the bottom and I sink to the surface succumbing to the dance of the sea.
Sep 2020 · 200
My little collection
Iska Sep 2020
🌱I am a collector of things. Books, plants, photos, candles, adventures and overlooked oddities that I find to be beautiful. Who knows? Maybe I’ll collect you too.🌱
Sep 2020 · 621
Passion
Iska Sep 2020
Meanwhile I’ve just sat by and wrote poems about her passion pretending it was my own. Little did I know, a seed was planted and she was watering it as it grew into a dream I never knew that I had buried.
Sep 2020 · 143
not anymore
Iska Sep 2020
I often smoke these days
to fill my lungs
and **** the flowers
I once planted there for you.
I often get high these days
on the freedom I find
in my new life without you.
Sep 2020 · 577
Sunsets
Iska Sep 2020
The sunset was the kind that was like syrup dripping from the skies and if you were to drink it it would be the ambrosia that tasted like a life time
Sep 2020 · 628
Sinking bubbles
Iska Sep 2020
There is a forest,
Under the sea,
To which I desperately
Long to see.
I’m back :) been ages
May 2020 · 115
Mistakes
Iska May 2020
I have this tightness in my chest
The anxiety swallows me whole
An overwhelming sense of unrest
As I wonder what I did to cause the pull
The pull away from me
I did something wrong I can feel it
But the mistake I cannot see
What
Did
I
Do?
What hurt you?
I will wait for your reply
But this anxiety is causing
the worst sorta high
What have I done?
Dec 2019 · 231
Survival
Iska Dec 2019
Today I saw the quote
“If it’s about survival... isn’t a little agony worth it?”

As if agony is something so small and easy to bare. As if it is a stone in our pockets that just adds a little weight as we are forced to march on this path that has no way out and no way back. When it’s more like this pressure that surrounds us and pushes our feet into the ground as we wade through this quick sand in attempt to make any progress, to move forward even an inch. In attempt to avoid being swallowed whole. But at the same time we just want to sink to the bottom and let the sticky sand muffle all sounds included our own. So we can let this pressure push us down as we sink further and further holding our breath waiting for that moment when we reach the bottom, just to see what’s there. And when we finally inhale we find our lungs have been filled with sand all along, it’s just this time it fills our eyes and ears as well. But perhaps a “little agony is worth it”. Maybe we should swallow our pain and continue forever forward as if we didn’t just swallow a red hot coal that’s now burning its way through our bodies and melting our will to continue as it goes. But no, let’s swallow it like a chalky pill that sticks to our throats and catches on it’s way down, but don’t worry, here’s a glass of sand to wash it down.
Wrote this a couple months ago
May 2019 · 752
Last Place
Iska May 2019
I am not your number one
And that is ok
I have accepted this
As my fate
Inescapable
You see,

I...
will never come first.

And that’s ok.

When I tell you I love you more than anything,
You will never reply the same.

And that’s ok.

I will never be your first

And that’s ok

It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.

Her smile will forever make you day

And that’s ok
(I wouldn’t love you as much as I do if it didn’t anyway)

She is your purpose for living

And that’s ok
(I wouldn’t love you as much as I do if she wasn’t anyway)

Her laugh is your most precious thing

And that’s ok
(I wouldn’t love you as much as I do if it wasn’t anyway)

It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.

She will always be your brightest sun

And that’s ok

She will always be the first

And that’s ok

I will never even be the fourth

And that’s ok

It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.

It really is.
I swear to god that it’s ok
I love you all the more for it
And I wouldn’t have it any other way

But at night....

When loneliness seeps into my bones

And monsters hiss into my ears


Reminding me that I am not your first
That I... have never been anyone’s first and most important person


That I have never deserved it

And that I will never even be your fourth.

And that’s ok.

It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.

But at night...


With loneliness bleeding through my soul.

I can’t help but wonder...

What it would be like.

To at least once


be first
To someone
To anyone

Because I have never been anybody’s number one.

Never been put first

Not even by myself.

And I never will be.



And that’s ok.


It’s ok.
It’s ok.
It’s ok.

Because when the sun is out.
I love you all the more for it
I don’t regret it.
I do not envy it.
I love you all the more for it

And it’s all truly ok.

It’s ok
It’s ok
It’s ok

But at night


With loneliness swallowing me whole

I can’t help but wonder

Why I

Will never

Be enough


To ever

Be first


Or even

Simply fourth.
Apr 2019 · 552
The crash
Iska Apr 2019
The world is teetering
Tethered by a withered string
And gravity is pulling it taught

And now it’s crashing
Louder and louder
The shards splinter my skin
And rivulets of blood
Turns to rivers

You hear a sigh
Of relief
Of regret
Of release
As you find me
Drowning in a pool of my blood
A broken story
Old as time
You dream to live
I long to die
Apr 2019 · 2.2k
Broken love
Iska Apr 2019
You say that I’ve changed,
I’m simply not the same.
A stranger that stole
Your little sisters face.
What a disgrace,
To be so misplaced.
But tell me dear siblings,
How would you know?
You never see me.
I have bent over backwards
All for you.
My “loving” family,
I have broken my heart
Again and again
On the cold steel of your eyes.
I have choked on the storm
Of your torrent of lies.
I have cut myself open
And poured my blood all over
the razor whip of your cruel words.
I have cried for you
I have died  inside for you
And when you were jealous,
because I could fly
I let you tear off my wings
And chain me to the ground.
Because I was told your love
Had to be earned
I did everything you asked of me.
I gave you my everything
And then a little more
Only to hear you demand for more.
Your eyes stayed cold
And words cut deeper still
I froze from your gaze
And collapsed from the blood loss
And you were insulted
And as you broke me
You laughed when you snapped me in two
Then left me behind,
As you always do.
You expect me to take the pain
And rise once more
On trembling limbs
To trail on after you
So you can break me some more.
You demand I be there should you have the need
To always be willing to let you watch me bleed.
And yet you claim that It is I,
Who has changed,
That I am simply not the same.
A stranger that stole
Your little sisters face.
And as I lay bleeding
I realized you were leeching
The life from my soul
And I felt the betrayal swallow me whole
I gasp for air,
Running out of breath
From the noose of expectations
You’ve tied round my neck.
Apr 2019 · 791
Sea breeze
Iska Apr 2019
The wistful winds
toss the waves up high
As the sea dare Try
To caress lady Luna’s sky.
Apr 2019 · 462
Fuzzy Fades, but Scars Stay
Iska Apr 2019
I feel so foggy
Limbs feel heavy
Thoughts feel thick
Eyelids stick
I don’t feel sick
So it must be ok..
No matter the way
Self medicate
To placate
This morbid mirror
This demonic fear
Apr 2019 · 284
Night time
Iska Apr 2019
Heavy limbs
Blurry eyes
Dying sins
Hollow cries
Apr 2019 · 425
The Pebble and The Rock
Iska Apr 2019
There once was a rock,
So bold and proud
But upon all others
He did scoff and frown.

He watched as the wistful wind
Tossed the waves up high
As the writhing sea
Draped in dazzling white
Frothed and danced in blissful delight.

He beheld the moon stained sand
As it churned and swept about
As the mighty wind blew the gulls throughout

The endless horizon
That crept to the sea.
Such beauty wasted,
For he truly believed
That none could ever be better then he.

“I am a pebble and I bow to none!”
Were the boastful words he cried to the Sun.
“Nothing could possibly change me!”
He declared to the Sea
“For I am eternal, while you all fade with time.”
He hollered to the Sand, with hubris filled pride.

“Then go forward, little pebble, and challenge the Tide.”
The whistling Wind whispered as they rolled him to the shore,
And the foolish pebble, need hear no more.

Flouncing, bouncing and pirouetting
The pebble lay upon the shore
when the Tide came to play
He told the Tide to “step aside,
For we are not the same.
I shall last forever,
whilst you are destined to fade away.”

The Tide surrounded him in a glittering host
he was then pushed and pulled throughout the coast
As the wild Waves rolled and bounced the pebble about
Before he was spat out once more on the sandy shore.

“INSOLENCE!!”
He cried out in pure rage.
“HOW DARE YOU DEFY ME,
I WHO CAN NEVER AGE?!”

So the Sand devoured him
And swallowed him whole
For how could he possibly not see
That he was not the only one
Blessed with the gift of immortality?

“Foolish pebble”
the Sand hissed in fury
“We are the dust of mountains.
We are the tellers of time
So tell me, little one,
how are you any better then I?”

The pebble stammered at a loss of words,
for such a thought had never occurred.
“As I thought.” The Sand sneered.
“How dare you be so quick to look down upon your peers.”

The poor pebble quivered as the sand spoke again
“If you wish to know eternity,
Look to the water,
towering over the waves.
Stands a Rock, older then both you and I.
Who knows? Perhaps she’s been there since the dawn of time..”

So the pebble turned again to the shore, peering over the waves
And what he beheld left him amazed.

The salt stained stone stood ageless.
Amongst the crashing of waves.
Breathing immortality, she gleamed in the sun.
The winds howled in rage
and the waves tossed their plumes
Demanding to be obeyed
But despite all of their efforts,
The Rock could not be swayed.

The pebble stood, humbled
And regret ensued.
Grief struck his core
and he was left quite confused.
When he heard a kind voice,
Both ancient and new.

“Hello, Little Pebble,
So battered and bruised.
Can’t you see?
The sand rubbed you smooth,
And the waves polished you anew.”

“I know your heart is heavy,
And filled with much regret.
So learn from your mistakes
And don’t you ever forget
That while you are simply a pebble
You glitter with gems from within
And once you embrace your potential,
Your eternity shall finally begin.”

~iska

{we are the tellers of time} is a line referring to the fact that hour glasses use sand to mark the passing of time.
For Grandma P.
Happy 71st birthday
Jan 2019 · 1.5k
The Child
Iska Jan 2019
I met a child
On a warm summers day
Who reminded me
How to laugh and to play
Round and around
The pool we would swim
Caving to our every whim
And in that child,
I found a spark
That breathed the life
Back into my broken heart
To a Barnacle.
The best Barnacle.
Jan 2019 · 329
Explosively Silent
Iska Jan 2019
Dear Reader,
they say that life is loud.
That it's noise deafens us and dulls our senses.
that it is all just..... too much

But you see, dear reader, I... disagree
I think that life is absolutely quiet,
and I think that the silence bothers people.
Because, much to the disagreement of others,
silence is so terribly loud

within the quiet hides
all that we are,
all that we hope to be,
and all that we fear.
monsters thrive in the silence
because there is nothing to
drown them out
no escape.
Just you and your own mind.

I believe that Hell
is cold and quiet.
That it is like snow muffled steps
echoing in our souls forever.
The frigid silence is inescapable

It seeps into your very bones
and fills your head
until all you can hear
is the smooth cold laughter
of your demons
as they delight in your numb isolation

I believe that this hell
is already here
and it fills our lives

Think about it,
the world shattering
as the silence of your worthless life
echos through your core.

Yes,
it is the silence that frightens us.
The things that the silence reveals in our souls.
As it uncovers the monsters that lurk
in the dark shadows of the mirror before you.
It forces you to face
every flaw.

So please,
I beg of you,
scream with me.
cut me open
and bleed with me
so I can escape this all encompassing silence.
Dec 2018 · 7.4k
Childish Chance
Iska Dec 2018
A chance

All that I ask for is a chance
A chance to meet and not divide
We’ve played this game,
Time and again
And throughout it all
we still remained friends
But to write off someone
based on what you lack
Is a sorry thing
that you have a knack
Of repeating again and again.
I’m not begging for you
to be chummy ole pals
Only I plead for you to meet
without a judgmental scowl.
Though a childish endeavor
I know it to be,
For once I just wish
You could see what I see.
With out the taint of jealousy.
To give a chance and then to decide
Is one thing
But to allow yourself to be clouded with envy and fear
Is a prison noone should be forced to endure.
~Iska
Dec 2018 · 1.2k
Flickering Nights
Iska Dec 2018
You feel like fire to me.
All warm and beautiful
With the ability to
Burn
Me
Alive
Mesmerizing to behold
As you dance around with a
glittering spark in your eyes
As you always seem to
Draw
Me
In
And entice me to dance with you.
So beautiful in your destruction
With the ability to burn away the darkest of nights.
Dec 2018 · 520
Cookie Cutter
Iska Dec 2018
You stick us all together
And declare we are the same
As if we all don’t have a different
Tolerance to pain
Dec 2018 · 623
Frozen bubble
Iska Dec 2018
Starring at the world
through a fractured freeze frame
Splintering my skin as I draw closer clawing to the faded paint only to end up on the other side
To a world as bland and gray as it was on the other side.
Nov 2018 · 773
Addicted to you
Iska Nov 2018
Ragged breaths
Dilated eyes
The sweet truth
The hazy lie
Breathy laughter
Loving the high
Sensual embrace
As I chase
After you
Addicted
through and through
Oct 2018 · 1.4k
Wander
Iska Oct 2018
When I was younger I used to think
that when a falling star crashes into the earth,
it shattered into stardust
and from there grows a forest.
Oct 2018 · 1.5k
Poor Poets
Iska Oct 2018
genius comes in fragments
poetry comes in slivers of sentences
open to all
yet mastered by none
merely mortals weaving a web
a web of words
of truths and lies
of things made plain
and things we hide
and as we navigate this artful web
we realize just how much we are out of our depth
Oct 2018 · 633
Writers Block
Iska Oct 2018
loioajrerglkjdradgu895tlkjkawlkefjkuayweeoifou9w834;lkdlig;oakgpa­gr09ia'phl;/rgi;sekf.s;f]wsf0s09seroue43iutj,emngj,,hzslgoke/;egi0]sz'g;el4ktlkj;kuzbsyoigajs.,,jerhgljuseyg9v8[e5u5p'yo'5;rhl­
[0g[aeol;erejliudruguihfg,g
I
CANT
THINK
knglgkw4u89ty34htkhkh;k­,jg
nkjsha;;iheawhgksbvwedngkjshdkvsKJeksgjmsehng
kjfdhlawahwrgoi­hWFYJWGEGFGWLIRRHIUWEIUGIWKEFhiluegelgh;akraehlkgaherkhie480349t2­04ti;woih'spgieq'gpg;elrrh[hl[\se[hierr
Oct 2018 · 2.2k
My little Always
Iska Oct 2018
I always bother you
though I never try.
I hate the tears
but I cant keep from the cry.
you are everywhere I can never find
everywhere
but by my side
and its pathetic,
I  know it is

and yet...
I cant keep the panic at bay

and still....
anxiety steals my words before i can say

i m i s s y o u

i l o v e y o u

w i l l y o u s t i l l r e t u r n

w i l l i e v e r l e a r n

w i l l y o u l o v e m e i f i d o
    
w i l l y o u l o v e m e i f i d o n o t
to
                    the bird
                                                    who flew
                                                                               away
Oct 2018 · 243
the ignorance that is us
Iska Oct 2018
The universe has a language we've forgotten,
one spoken by all the earth.
and in our haste to create our own "beauty"
we've forgotten how much it was worth.
and once we noticed the absence
we attempted to fill up the hole.
we replaced the feeling
of freedom and soul
with words like money and fool.
yet as we forgot the language,
the world around us did not
and cried for us and our ignorance
as they watched us cut the world up.

into little bite sized pieces,
trying to fill up our cup,
guess we didn't know,
it was still empty
from all that we've given up.
Sep 2018 · 1.7k
SunDrop
Iska Sep 2018
You asked me why I love you
And here’s a couple of reasons why:

You hold me like you can feel the
World, twirling on its axis
And if you let go we will both start spinning in an unending dance
And as we drift and glide among the stars we will slip and slid in the affections of the heart.
So instead you hold me
And I hold you, as if I never want to let you go, because while the stars are breathtaking, they lack the warmth of home. And while the dance is dizzying it’s hard to breathe without you.

Your eyes.
I could go on for days about your eyes. They entice me in their depths. The way the sunlight hits them in a wave of golden sparkles and then, you smile and I feel like i have a sunset for blood and a stardust heart. The way they light up as you behold the world.
The way your pupils dialate when they behold me. As if I am a star bright enough to burn away the world until it is just a breath, and a blur of color between our heart beats.

Your voice.
The way it rises and falls with the crisendo of your emotions. The way your breathing breaks up the beat of a steady sentence. The way it caresses my name like the breeze caresses a lilac blossom on a spring morn. The way it lulls me into a dreamy trance from which I have no desire to escape.

Your heart.
The way it’s song shifts, and tempo picks up, just a bit as I run my fingers over the smooth surface of your skin. The comforting rhythm beneath my ear as we match breathing before falling into dreams grasp. The way your heart strings tug and tangle when you fall in front of someone in need. How it pangs for those who have more misfortune then you. The way it’s song floats around me like wishes on the wind and tangled with my own until my own beat seems infinitely more beautiful and alien at the same time.

I have this irrational fear
That you will leave me
To chase after a brighter star.
And I don’t know how to react
But I do know, that if you did..
        I would let you.
And every night I would look up at the moon and we would agree
that you and the sun are alike.
Both so pretty and both just out of reach. And I would find solace amoung the moonbeams as I watch you spin dazzlingly amoung the sun as you dance between the stars.
Sep 2018 · 4.2k
Sunshine.
Iska Sep 2018
You think that you are ugly.
But my darling,
how could you  possibly know?
You can’t see what I see,
still,
how could these opinions possibly grow?
you knock the breath right out of me.
with the way the sunlight hits your eyes
And I think my heart just flutters inside.
The way you tilt your head as you laugh
and when i'm with you,
I can never tell if only seconds or infinities have past
The way your ears turn pink when embarrassed
The way you spin in that pretty pink dress
The way you hold me in your arms
And smile
As you call me your love.

And I

Can’t help

But melt
Sep 2018 · 399
Pain-ters
Iska Sep 2018
Scattered words
Broken frame
Was once a lovely picture
Now just faded paint.
Aug 2018 · 3.0k
Night sky
Iska Aug 2018
City lights
Blot out starry nights
Burning so bright
We’ve lost our sight...
Aug 2018 · 261
Stars
Iska Aug 2018
Stars look like some one spilled a cluster of polished stones and it’s scattered all across the sky
And they’ve been there ever since stuck billowing fabric of time
Aug 2018 · 199
Dust
Iska Aug 2018
Scattered memories float past my fingertips collecting like dust upon the stars.
Aug 2018 · 2.6k
Ace
Iska Aug 2018
Ace
Every day the cards were played
Everyday you lost
I won.
Every day you’d come back
With declarations of future success,
And when proved false you’d smile,
All lopsided and sheepish,
With a “next time perhaps”
And now your gone.
And next time won’t come.
I guess I won after all.
You always said
I was a queen of diamonds
But my dear,
You were the Ace of hearts.
To Everett
If there is a place after this life,
I expect to see that lopsided grin
From across the table
May we play cards again
who knows?
I may even let you win...
(Or not)
:’(
Aug 2018 · 278
snowfall
Iska Aug 2018
Snow looks like it's striped the world
Striped it down to the bones
And trees are knobbly fingers
Clawing towards the dreary sky
May 2018 · 441
A melody Of Melancholy
Iska May 2018
.
.
.
.
.
.
Can you hear it?
This sweet and sorrowful serenade?
This melody of melancholy.






Of course you can’t,
How selfishly presumptuous of me.
To assume you see the solitude I see
Day after day
.
.
.
.
.
.
Mar 2018 · 5.2k
Unplugged
Iska Mar 2018
We are all so clever,
With our posts and our lies,
And honest comments deleted
To wither and die.
Filters for beauty free of flaws
So we may withstand societies claws.
So we upload
pictures, stories and posts.
I wounder what is it
we long for the most?
To be accepted?
To be seen?
To cause envy?
Or Jealousy?
What is the point?
The whole worlds plugged in,
And we all have hundreds of thousands of “friends”.
yet who is it that
truly cares for us in the end?
Face to face?
What a disgrace!
Letters to send?
This must come to an end!
Written word?
Thats simply absurd!
Memories made?
They still do that these days?!
Now this is a crazy idea..
Just a thought..
But,
What if we all....
Just unplugged?
Not once or twice
And call it a night,
But more like a day?
To spend as you may?
To feel the sun?
To laugh with friends?
And make beautiful memories
to carry with you til the end?
Enjoy the moment of pure bliss,
Without
filters, comments or harsh judgements.
To be yourself
and embrace your life,
Then when your done
You can replug.
And check on all your comments and likes.
And see which was the thing you remember at night.
I get it.
I do it too
But sometimes you need to stop
And just be you.
Feb 2018 · 488
Effortless friendship
Iska Feb 2018
Misplaced smiles, awkward laughs,
The silence stretches on for miles.
Wandering eyes, shuffling feet,
Something's missing, incomplete.
What happened to the brighter days?
When hours seemed to slip away?
Now the seconds are more like years,
And minutes seem like eons of fears.
I miss you dearly, this I know,
But I wounder if it's you I miss,
Or something I created, romanticized,
Either way, it seems so faded,
What happened to the friendship we so effortlessly created?
Feb 2018 · 10.8k
Bloody Rose
Iska Feb 2018
'Why is it so painful to grow?'

A seed.
Just a seed buried under the ground.
Under the pressure of the soil,
It fights to grow.

The seed cracks,
such a sturdy little seed,
opens with a painful snap.

A sprout coils out.
Out of the cracked little seed.
A sprout now crushed under,
Under the pressure of the unforgiving ground.

Yet still... It grows.

A little sprout,
Now reaches up.
Up and away from the little seed,
and up to the light of the sun.

Pushing and groaning it bursts out.
Out from the unforgiving ground.
Yet now new dangers are to be found.

Will it be trampled
Or eaten alive?
The possibilities are endless,
The ways it could die.

And still.. it grows.

The sprout toils endlessly,
always stretching and growing
Reaching for the crimson sun.

The rain falls down
beating upon the sprout.
Pelting it's skin and whipping it about.
It skin hardens painfully,
and sprout becomes stem.

And still It grows.
The stem keeps reaching,
Stretching to the sky.

The stem then splits
It rips in two a bud appears
A little bud,
With so much to do.

Then the bud breaks
A crack appears
a petal unfurls from within.

Then it's a bloom.
Such a sweet little thing.
Until the crack stretches
So the bloom can grow
In to the beautiful rose
We've all come to know.

And still.. it grows.

Thorns burst free
Breaking out of the stem
And petals billow and grow in the breeze.

Then you see me,
And my beauty delights you,
So you wish to see me every day.
And your scissors encircle me
To give you your way.

They cut me in half.
They slice me in two.
being a rose,
There was naught I could do.

You carry me with you,
Your hands coated in my blood,
I'm dying slowly,
All for your love.

And now... I can't grow.

So as I bleed and wither in pain,
You place me in a vase
Or press me in a book,
All to save the bloom for another day.

And as I gasp for air,
Among your dry pages,
You leech me of all life,
Perfectly preserved
just so I could last the ages.

Or else I am drowning
In glass and water
My beauty wasted
hour by hour
Day by day
All to satisfy your whimsical ways.

And now all I wish to know,
'Why is it so painful to grow?'
Feb 2018 · 2.7k
Beaten Old Shoes
Iska Feb 2018
although age in and of itself
does not declare experience
or the depth of knowledge one has gained
and in my opinion is silly for anyone
to think otherwise
I'm always told
"your so wise for one so young."
Or
"oh I remember what it was like to be 19
and think you know the world."
Yet what they refuse to acknowledge
is that in 19 short years,
I may have experienced both
horrors and beauty
that they have yet to dream let alone see.
Who is to say that age is a boundary of the mind?
That inexperience creates an age divide?
Who are they to claim that we would be consumed
when they have yet to wander in our beaten old shoes?
Who are they to judge me of a story
they have yet to hear?
All becuse they refuse to lend an ear?
Feb 2018 · 39.2k
Candy Grin
Iska Feb 2018
The false crisendo of your words
Grate against my every nerves.
Wandering round
With ****** feet
How many expectations
Have I failed to meet?

What more do you want
Of my sorry soul
When I cannot bring
My self to breath anymore?

So I watch your hopes
all tumbling down
It feels quite cold
Down here in the ground.
I'm sorry that I wasn't enough
I tried to be what you asked of me
But I didnt think it'd be So tough.

My weary bones creak and ache,
My wrist all burned and ******,
Can you not be quite just once for my sake?

I understand the gravity.
I know Im failing at life,
But you dig right in,
spreading the cavity,
How to ignore the strife?

Whispered arguments bleed through the walls
How much longer until we fall?
Through the floor straight down to hell
All because I could not tell.

Should I weep in pain,
And slave away,
To satisfy you're whimsical ways?
Should I sell my soul,
And bite my tongue,
Just to keep the wallet full?
But "your so young,
You've no excuse,
So bend your back,
Put those hands to use."

Welcome to life.
Put away your pain,
No time for strife,
No time for play,
Just nod you head,
Exit the stage,
And get a job,
So you'll be payed.

I'd sooner live a poor church mouse,
Then lose myself in persute of a house.
But no, I'll smile my candy grin,
And talk with sugar sweet.
Hide the weight of the pain,
So your expectations, I'll meet.
Some times it's just not enough.
Jan 2018 · 843
A Tale Tangled In String
Iska Jan 2018
We all tell woes Of shattered things.
Scattered dreams and pretty things.
All tangled up in endless string.

A string of letters,
Of words and lines
Mixed with emotions
and beauty and lies

Stories of girls broken inside,
Of boys with more blood to dry.
Of Secrets and lies hidden away
Of adults trying to make it just one more day.

Some are well told
Others a jumble of string
Yet in them all one uniting thing.

The audience.

Ah yes, those brave souls, willing to read.
To read the rambling of broken things.
Of flickering poets crying to be heard.
Of lost souls with pathways blurred.

So gather all your tangled string
And join in the cacophony of broken things
As we spin around this shattered ring
I ask you of one simple thing...

Do you smear yourself in ink and pain,
Just for the number of readers you'll gain?
Or is it an art to be admired?
Something to live on long after we expire?

No, if that's true I'm afraid
you've got it all twisted,
its not for the audience that poetry existed.
It's for the poet, tangled in string,
It gives them a chance to create the whole thing.

A world where no one chooses what goes
Save for the poet who truly knows.
The reason to write, To fight and bleed,
Is because we all long to be tangled in string
Why do you write?
What is the purpose?
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