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39.0k · Feb 2018
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.
10.6k · Feb 2018
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?'
7.3k · Dec 2018
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.
7.3k · Nov 2017
Broken Poetry
Iska Nov 2017
I am the trending poem.                                                            ­            
         you see me and I make you feel alive
                                             so you like me and re-post me
                                                              ­    then you leave me alone to die.
I am your forgotten lines.
             you created me with a careful love
                                                          an­d decisive rhymes
                                      and then to the bottom of your page I'm shoved.
I am forgotten, alone and unloved
                           a faded smile a broken dove
                                               I once was beautiful, touching.
                                                       ­   now, I've been replaced, I'm nothing.
6.7k · Jan 2018
Silent Words.
Iska Jan 2018
"Whats wrong"
                       I can't tell, is the water on my face rain or tears?
                           I can't say it out loud! Please read it in my eyes....

"Can you just not be so **** sad for once?"
                          The wind claws at everything, a welcome pain.
               I'm trying! Can't you see the effort? Oh stars, it HURTS!

"You can talk to me..."
                             I look away, I cannot bare the pain in your eyes.
                           Oh darling I know, I want to but... I can't.

"Talk **** it."
                            Your eyes are hard now, your angry with me, please don't be mad.
                        Don't you see? My voice betrayed me!

"You know, you make it hard to love you sometimes."
                              The song playing is fitting "I'm searching for something that I can't reach."
                               Your words are cutting me. Stripping me to the core, please for the love of God, don't say you can't love me anymore...
There are times when one simply cannot bare to speak
Yet in their silence is the screaming you can't bare to hear.
5.8k · Oct 2017
Realistic Fairytail
Iska Oct 2017
There was a boy who owned the world,
or so he thought... til he met "The Girl"
this Girl swept in like a storm,
and made chaos look like a beautiful art form.
but, like all storms, disaster swarmed.
and the prince stood by, braving the storm.
But when the winds died down
and the clouds cleared away,
it reviled the other princes,
who also stood by her side.
here to save the day.
they looked to the boy
with mocking smiles
and together the all chimed;
"don't you worry your pretty head,
little prince,
one day your kingdom will fall,
and you will realize,
your castle was but sand all along."
then they turned to the Girl
whom they wanted to pin down like a butterfly,
to claim the right to say "she's Mine."
and they said "its time to choose.
which one of us could you bare to loose."
so she chose the one,
who made her laugh,
who made her cry.
who demanded the truth,
who never believed the lie.
who she wasn't afraid of ruining,
of tearing apart.
because he was like her.
the poison to her toxic heart.
the chaos to her mischief.
the fitting piece to her jigsaw life.
So she crowned him,
and made him her king.
this choice broke the little princes heart.
and her storm ripped his world apart.
there's a girl standing on a cross road,
wishing upon a star she'll never hold.
she told you not to fall,
she warned you that it would never end well,
yet still.....
you fell.
5.1k · Mar 2018
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..
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,
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.
4.1k · Sep 2018
Iska Sep 2018
You think that you are ugly.
But my darling,
how could you  possibly know?
You can’t see what I see,
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
Iska Dec 2017
to me you are a star of gold
a glowing asterisk
I wish I could hold
though you seem so far away
I truly wish we could meet some day
but alas we shall only meet
through our words,
spilling and falling across this page.
we are the unseen family
bound by art
which is better
because we dwell in the heart
3.0k · Aug 2018
Night sky
Iska Aug 2018
City lights
Blot out starry nights
Burning so bright
We’ve lost our sight...
2.5k · Aug 2018
Iska Aug 2018
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)
2.5k · Oct 2017
A Puppet Girl
Iska Oct 2017
A puppet girl, all dressed up, with painted lips and lined eyes, stands on her toes as she spins and glides.
Guided by her puppet strings she swirls and twirls around the ring.
Round and round this dusty stage she gets up and dances day after day.
The hands that hold her gentle yet firm show her just how much she must learn.
The hands grow fierce, music harsh,as they pull and push her into a perfect arch.
A string then snaps, poor puppet goes loose, abandoned and alone as they tie her a noose.
A puppet girl, all banged up, with chipped paint and bleary eyes, slumps alone as she starts to cry.
Musical laughter fills the ring, as she hears someone begin to sing.
Clanking clattering across the stage, she drags her limbs out of her cage.
She topples and falls tangled in string, trying to find the source of the singing.
Kneeling before her, with beautiful wings, is another girl living her dreams.
A puppet girl, just like her, moving with ease, unburdened by the need for strings.
"Are you an angel?" she rubs her eyes trying to see if this girl is a lie.
the girl before her smooths over her dress, before gliding into a curtsy and saying "yes."
"I wish to be an angel like you, then I could be free to move."
The angel tilts her head, her smile sly, before opening her mouth to reply,
"As you wish it, it shall be so."
then with terrible grace and ease, she cuts off the strings...
and with it she holds the Poor Puppet Girl's head,
her body lays crumpled up,
shes.... dead.
"Shh." she whispers as she cradles the head,
she spins and glides claiming shes been naughty,
and attaches the puppet girls head on an angels body.
And as the puppet girl blinks her eyes,
she realizes she's back to life.
in a form now free of strings,
she can dance and spin as she may please.
then she sees her body crumpled where it now lies,
and with a shuddering sob she begins to cry.
the angel takes her hand in hers
and with a crazy smile and mad glint in her eyes
she starts to sing:
"hush little one,
now we are the same.
don't worry baby,
no more pain.
Now listen to me child,
let blood fall like blissful rain,
and we shall free those who remain,
free them from these awful chains."
beware the puppet masters.
for they will drive the puppets to the edge of the stage,
until they snap,
and the puppets lie dead
on top of the body pile.
2.3k · Feb 2018
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."
"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?
2.2k · Oct 2018
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
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
                    the bird
                                                    who flew
2.1k · Apr 2019
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.
2.1k · Nov 2017
A Poets Art
Iska Nov 2017
My dear,
they say that a poem is a work of art.
they say that It is emotion,
pouring from your bleeding heart.
and I find that to be quite true,
but not every emotion is happiness anew.
the sadness the anger and pain and fear,
they each have a place to reside in here.
for such raw emotion does set the tide
for the torrent of words
that in a poem, does reside.
2.0k · May 2019
Fire Heart
Iska May 2019
there once was a girl born with a fire heart.
it danced beneath the layers of her skin,
burning so brilliantly
you could see the flames blazing within.

when she saw the monsters
lurking within the darkness,
hunting those with no light to burn
this little girl gave them her flames.

and for once,
the world was burst into a brilliant light.
it pulsed and danced across the stars
with the potential to burn away the endless darkness

but what this foolish girl had yet to understand
was that there was only so much of your fire heart
that you can give away before you are left with
nothing but simmering embers inside.

on her knees she was smiling,
seeing all that her fire has saved.

only to be burned with her own flames.

she has out lived her purpose
so they left her to be devoured
by the very monsters
she had protected them from.

only to realize that these monsters
weren't nearly as bad as the ones
who now walked away with her flames.
1.9k · Oct 2017
A life unloved
Iska Oct 2017
I drank his acid,

he drank my fear.

He slit my wrists,

I swallowed the blade.

He lit the match

And I was ablaze.

He killed me,

And I let him.
1.7k · Oct 2017
Nymphs Sacrifice
Iska Oct 2017
Let me tell you a story.
A Human is walking through woods, where he stops under a tree and gives a sullen sigh. When a beautiful maiden calls from among the leaf leaden branches above,
"Whatever's the matter?"
The Man looks up, startled to see the fair lady in the tree and as she climbs down to stand before him he tells her of his sorrow. His friend was leaving him, to a land very far from where they now stood. the maiden states that many people are often in search of living a life different from the one they are currently leading and asks what else is bothering him.
He states that he's.... lost.
"You spend your whole life looking up at the moon, terrified that you are wasting your life away."
She says, and he agrees.
"Then why not go out and live the life you dream of living?"
He searches for an answer but cannot find one, save for the fact that he feels stuck.
"You are only stuck if you wish to be."
Getting irritated by her wise answers, he asks what life she would lead. The maiden looks up at the many trees towering above them, her eyes watching the light dance with the leaves as she answers,
"I would want to travel, to breathe."
The man states the wishing to breathe is an odd desire indeed. She just kept looking up at the sky as she continued,
"All of these trees are working tirelessly day and night to give us air to breathe. I would make sure that each and every breath had meaning. That with every intake of air carried the taste of adventure and every breath out holds a memory with it. I would try my hardest to ensure that I did not let a single breath go to waste. We all spend so much time ensnared in our small world, dreaming of something more beyond what we know, but refusing to go and seek it out. I wish to not merely exist, but to LIVE."
The man asks why she doesn't heed her own advice,
"Alas," she sighs,
"I am a Tree nymph and cannot move beyond the roots buried deep within the earth, or the tree will die, and I, with it."
Suddenly filled with pity for the beautiful nymph he states that he may know of a spell that could release her from her binds to the tree and allow her to pursue her desire. she then shakes her head and with a small, sad smile, she tells him she could never do such a thing. When he asks why she says
"I have spent my whole life caring for this tree, we are entwined together. To leave it in pursuit of my own dreams, would be leaving it to die. this I cannot do."
The man shakes his head, confused.
"It is simply a tree," he states "there are thousands more just like it."
"Ah," she says, wishing for a way to further explain herself,
"This is not just any tree. Somewhere out there, there is someone relying on this tree to breathe so that they may live their lives to the fullest they can. Weather it be a small child learning to walk and explore this beautiful land for the first time, or may it be an elder who has lived a long life, with many stories to tell, they are relying on this tree and to take it away so that I may go about life the way I dream, would be a selfish thing indeed."
Touched by her selfless sacrifice the man exclaims that it was hardly fair, that so many people remain wasting their lives away within their paper worlds settling for existing due to laziness and fear, while others, are dreaming of the freedom to actually live while imprisoned by their sacrifices.
"Is their no other way?"
He questions, but the maiden shakes her head.
"Well is there any way I can help?"
Her eyes light up and she smiles. A smile that is as warm and bright as the summer sun.
"Why yes, there is. you can go and live your life to the fullest you possibly can, because, you too, are relying on somebody's sacrifice to be free to live. So don't waste it, and when you have aged and grow weary, with snow kissed hair and wizened eyes, share your stories with those who follow. Share your sorrows and your triumphs, and all that lie in between. Start your story here, on the day your sorrows have lead you here, to the Nymph who dreams to live, inspire them to do the same and then I will know that my sacrifice has not been in vain."
1.7k · Sep 2020
Iska Sep 2020
I am a wandering soul, I know not where I go. My goal is not In the ending nor is it whence I came. my destiny is in the now as I dance between these plains.

I wander with the wishes and chase the petals and leaves, but no matter how far I meander, my roots will follow me.

Breathe in deep and spread your roots to the edges of the universe, in this way everywhere you go becomes home

No matter how far you go, those roots will guide you home
1.7k · Dec 2018
Shell of a soul
Iska Dec 2018
False laughter and pearly white grins
We all have a storm raging within
And yet we’re all so desperate not to show
Little do we understand that we are only fooling ourselves
Our hallow laughter echoes through the halls as our cavity riddled teeth gnash in a crude imitation of what a smile should be.
1.6k · Sep 2018
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.
1.5k · Nov 2017
Broken bonds
Iska Nov 2017
tis a sad day indeed when family turns to strangers.
when you look into the face that you have loved for years
and only see uncertainty and distance.
you know what I'm talking about....
when you dress up for their visits.
and worry what they think.
where stiff conversations
and insincere smiles dwell.

what happened?

I cannot remember a time with out you...
yet I find my self unsure as to how to spell your name.
I cannot remember our last laugh.
not these pretentious giggles
but cheek burning, tummy clutching, eyes tearing laughter.
I cant clearly see your face. hear your voice.
I cant remember your catch phrases. your jokes.

What happened?

I know not your friends, nor where you sleep at night.
what has caused this heart wrenching chasm to form?
I have loved you!
Where are you?
I have fought, kicked and screamed with and for you,
who do you fight for now?
What severed these bonds we swore would never brake?

What happened?

was it me?
was I not there?
did I send you away?
Oh the heart breaking pain...
I would do anything for you,
even now,
although I know not the person you have become.
I would die for you.
and I do... a little more each day.
would you do the same?

What happened?

why did you leave me?
I am your sister, your blood,
yet you are no where in sight.
I miss you..... oh God I miss you.

What happened?

tell me and i will fix it.
I swear i will,
because, dear sister i miss you
so much that  it hurts.
I wake up at night
and I wounder, are you still alive?
If so then why do i feel so empty.

tis a sad day when your name falls from my lips
and sounds clumsy. as if it didn't belong.
I miss you...
What happened to you?
to our bond?
was it I who did you wrong?
Im sorry i Let you go...
and you will never know
1.5k · Nov 2017
Iska Nov 2017
the beasts that claw and creep within
are often wearing human skin.
1.5k · Nov 2017
Iska Nov 2017
have you ever said a word
over and over and over again,
until it sounds like a jumble of sounds
or read it over and over so much that
the letters swim and blur
until the word looks and sounds so ridiculous,
foreign on your ears,
like it suddenly doesn't mean anything..
its just a pile of letters and a gurgle of your voice?

that's what your name is now to me.
its been so long....
that i never had to say it over and over
or read it a million times....
you just faded away.
1.4k · Aug 2018
Iska Aug 2018
I feel like we lived in a bubble
All safe warm and secure
And now the bubble has popped
And we have lost the safety for sure
1.4k · Oct 2018
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
1.4k · Jan 2019
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.
1.3k · Oct 2018
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.
1.2k · Nov 2017
Iska Nov 2017
unspoken words spill through the air,
dripping and falling both vile and fair.
unspoken love unspoken hate,
I see it all no need to blate.
In anger your vision clouds in reds,
when cold clarity smears my vision instead.
In sadness you worry and weep in pain,
wondering if perhaps I'm just not the same.
But sorrows, I have no time to attend,
all I can do is assure your still my friend.
In happiness you claim, I'm the best friend you've had,
when in reality I'm wondering, if you've gone quite mad. :)
I see it all, both old and new..
from the silent worry to
the unspoken "I love you"s
to this I say no need to fret
for you I can not abandon yet.
and as to the love, you keep silent in fear,
you know that I cannot help you here...
I belong to another, yet i still hold you dear,
and know, that as a friend, I shall always be here.
for the eyes of one man alone to hold
for to him this poem is carved from gold.
1.1k · Dec 2018
Flickering Nights
Iska Dec 2018
You feel like fire to me.
All warm and beautiful
With the ability to
Mesmerizing to behold
As you dance around with a
glittering spark in your eyes
As you always seem to
And entice me to dance with you.
So beautiful in your destruction
With the ability to burn away the darkest of nights.
1.1k · Oct 2017
The Storm
Iska Oct 2017
Dear Loved One,
You know, when i met you,
I wasn't sure if you were the lighthouse or the storm.
and honestly i didn't want to know.
because the light house brings you home
when the world rages around.
where as the storm rages with the world,
in sync but completely apart.
only to realize i was completely wrong
you see, when it comes to me..
i have two sides.
or so I'm told.

I am the storm,
beautiful in its chaos and destruction.
with a tendency to destroy people in such a way that,
to survive, they flee to a light house
and vanish forever leaving me to rage alone,
saying i was not the storm you chase,
so they ran away with the winds.

I am the bird,
weathering the storm
with the promise of freedom on my mind.
as others look on in disappointment,
claiming my stupidity for flying in a storm
that will rip off my wings,
that's not what i see though.
no for me its an adventure on the wind,
a shiver down my spine
and the taste of the electric air,
giving me the complete feeling of being alive.

but you....
you are the eye in the storm.
that hidden pocket of safety
that is rarely seen
scarcely sought out
and almost never found.
you have the ability to weather my storm
and shelter my bird when I'm tired of flying.
my equal and opposite.

And while nothing is worth destroying  yourself over,
if you do destroy yourself,
always make sure its for something spectacular,
make sure its for yourself.
and you my friend
are spectacular enough that i think id destroy myself
every day,
again and again,
before i  would ever let myself destroy you.
because that's what staying is like.
its not flying away to chase a storm,
its to rage quietly within these four walls.
and it destroys me a little more every day.
but your worth it.
and sometimes it brings me to a dark place.
and i absolutely love you for
quietly opening your arms,
not trying to change me,
no, instead
you sit down with me in your arms
kiss my forehead
and silently dwell in the dark with me,
feeling my winds thrash and whip around us.
and still you remain,
refusing to flee.

and if i run...
i hope you'll accept my devilish smile,
take my hand,
and run with me...
because every storm needs an eye in its center.
and even the birds need to rest during their flight.

~Sincerely the storm.
keep those who stay,
the ones who bare the storm
and shelter you.
treat them well,
whether they are lovers
or simply friends.
for they will never abandon you
and will never lead you astray.
Iska Oct 2017
"Smile, quit 'pretending' you're depressed."
"Don't speak unless spoken to."
"Be polite."
"Paint your lips and cover your eyes,
this way you will be liked."
"Stop being a rebel,
nobody wants that."
"Be grateful for the clothes on your back."
"You owe me EVERYTHING,
I could have left you alone."
"Stop removing yourself from the family."
"Don't interrupt!"
"Try hard."
"Stay out of trouble."
"Don't hang out with THEM."
"Go to church."
"Dress right."
"Don't put on dark makeup."
"Try harder!"
"Eat right."
"Be thin."
"Don't raise your voice."
"Do what i say,
no questions asked."
"Don't back talk!"
"Give nothing but your best!"
"Surely you can do better then THAT!"
"Stop being so... distant."
"Your a freak,
but if you don't hide it,
you'll NEVER be loved."
"Be home on time."
"Do your work."
"Get a job."
"Don't get caught."
"Don't you sass ME!"
"Blend in."
"keep your head down,
and just MAYBE you'll be lucky
and not end up alone."
"Don't give your heart away."
"Trust few."
"Friends come and go,
so leave before they do."
"Keep your thoughts to yourselves."
"Your opinion doesn't matter,
what would give you that crazy idea?"
"Hold it all in."
"Wear this mask created by society."
"Act like a lady."
"Your getting awfully chubby,
go for a run til you drop."
"Stop eating so much,
your revolting!"
"Sit up straight."
"Hold your head high."
"Take care of your siblings."
"Stop reading and put that **** book down!!!"
"Take your headphones out."
"Stop crying,
or I'll give you something to cry about."
"Your fine!"
"Don't lie."
"Don't **** into my conversation."
"Stop coming to your siblings aid."
"you are so annoying!"
"Don't bark orders."
"Quit being so lazy."
"Be thinner."
"More makeup,
you're hideous."
"Don't draw,
art is a waste of time."
"Don't write all of these awful poems."
"Don't let them see you cry."
"Come to me with your problems!"
"Don't keep your siblings secrets,

                                                         ­    "Even if they give me no choice?"

"Are you REALLY going to be the kind
of girl who lets them decide for you??"
983 · Aug 2018
Heart Space
Iska Aug 2018
You dropped a piece of your heart..
All shattered and black
So I picked it up and added it to my collection
And soon I was covered in shards of broken hearts
Mine and yours
And stories untold
And soon enough the shards splintered my skin
As my own heart broke from within
956 · Dec 2017
War Cry
Iska Dec 2017
We are not poets.
Nor are we artists.
         We are the bleeding hearts
                                                   Daring to rebel.
Society cuts this world into careful little blocks.
Devided by cold cut stones forced to comply.
And yet,
             If you look a little closer, you will notice,
                  Not us, for you will never see our face
   But you will see our fragments.
             The pieces of us we leave behind for you
                Scattered among these cold stone walls
Words we have carved into the stone
             With our own ****** nails.
                              Proof that we exsist.
                                               Proof that you can to.
So here we are,
                    Strings of letters
                                       And scattered lines,
                                 All echoing the same war cry.
                          “We Are Here.”
                                                    "Are You?"
931 · Jul 2018
Always Tainted.
Iska Jul 2018
His tainted hands
Stained my soul
And created scars
Made invisible
A broken story,
Old as time,
You’ve dreamed to live
As I had longed to die.
880 · Jan 2018
Photoshop Me Please
Iska Jan 2018
They say true beauty is found within,
Regardless of the condition of our mortal skin.
What they don't realize is I completely agree,
We are more then a shallow magazine.
You don't understand,
That I cannot help it.
You cannot hear the mocking of the mirror.
So how could you possibly know what I must endure,
Day after day,
"Darlin wipe those tears away.
They make you blochy and red.
But don't worry hunny,
I'm just in your head."
You don't see the food haunt me,
The food my stomach refused to consume.
"Your fat won't just go away,
Just starve yourself for ONE more day."
You can't know how hallow this makes me inside,
When I cover it up with pretty smiles and lies.
So how can beauty be found within,
If no one looks beyond our skin?
How can we eat and be fine when we are constantly compared to the standards
only Photoshop can comply?
How must we see beyond this shattered mirror
When we cover ourselves in makeup just to endure your scrutiny?
But yes, darling,
we shine inside..
A light that flickers and fades when I stand under societies shining ray.
It is a disorder that cannot always be helped.
It's toxic and deadly
But not a choice
Not a cry for attention.
827 · Oct 2017
Love is Boring
Iska Oct 2017
They say that love is beautiful.
That when it consumes you,
You feel alive.
They say that love is wonderful.
That when you find it,
You will never let it go.
They say that love is painful.
That misplaced love will
Burn you to the core.
Well I say that that sounds awfully boring,
And I think love is something more.
I say that love is a storm.
All rapid heart beats
And tangled wet hair.
Its the taste of lightning
And the feel of fire.
Its the burning skin
And huge grin.
It is the feeling of being ALIVE.
I say that love is a game of Russian Roulette.
Its giving some one a loaded gun
And hoping to God
That they don't pull the trigger.
Its sweating palms
And fragile trust, you hope, will grow strong
Its fear
Oh God you're scared.
Scared of the power they wield over you.
Its the freedom of a reckless love
Of wild desire
And chaotic choices.
Of crazy laughter
And aching tummies.
It is the feeling of being wild and FREE.
I say that love is rare, and fleeting.
Which is why you should never let it go.
Its nights under the stars
With only the moon to bare witness.
Its days under the deep blue sky
Where you burn brighter than the sun.
Its snow falling
And breath showing.
Its the feeling of your arms.
A desperation to cling to you.
And the naive hope
That we will last.
Its the feeling of forever.
Love is YOU.
795 · Dec 2017
Glass Girl
Iska Dec 2017
A girl in a snow globe, delights in her world,
she watches, enchanted, as the snow falls down,
it drifts and glides and swirls around
before finally landing upon the ground.
until one day she notices the glass,
and she understands (realizes)  the prison at last.
I may turn this into a longer poem or a short story.
785 · Nov 2018
The Patchwork Poet
Iska Nov 2018
patchwork poetry
from a broken soul
ageless words
stitched together
take their toll
as we twist them
to fit the role
I was told all I do is rewrite what has already been written.
With no creative twist or flair
Just wasting time
With empty air
760 · Jan 2018
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?
732 · May 2018
Iska May 2018
The thing about pain,
Is it demands to be felt.
And it has formed a circlet
That rests upon my brow
And crowns me queen.
So I will take the pain,
So that none else will have to.
And every wound will shape me
And every scar will build my throne
So as I am here
Sitting on my throne of bones
I will understand that in this,
I am fated to be alone
And find solace in my solitude.
731 · Apr 2019
The Sorrows Of Notre Dame
Iska Apr 2019
For a moment today...
my heart stopped.

When I was a little girl I stood in awe,
Before the beauty that was Notre Dame.
It was only a picture,
but in it I saw the marvel that was Notre Dame.

And so as a girl I dreamed
To feel her bells reverberate through my soul,
To draw her beauty with inadequate talent
To one day stand before grand Notre Dame.

And now she is burning.
Dressed in red
Her heart is on fire
as the flames hungrily sought to accomplish
that which two wars and a plague could not,
To consume beloved Notre Dame.

856 years she has witnessed
856 years her regal beauty has graced us
856 years Her bells have sounded for so many souls

And in what seemed like seconds
Notre Dame...

Is gone.

The trembling ash coated skeleton
of her existence is all that remains
of the glory that was Notre Dame

And if you are silent you may still hear the bells
ringing through out the earth,
crying for Notre Dame.
And now as she goes in a blaze of beauty..
I too cry for Notre Dame.

for a moment today...
my heart stopped.

and as I behold that what is left
of the burning heart of Paris..
I am unsure it will start again.
my heart has broken
726 · Apr 2019
Sea breeze
Iska Apr 2019
The wistful winds
toss the waves up high
As the sea dare Try
To caress lady Luna’s sky.
694 · May 2019
Last Place
Iska May 2019
I am not your number one
And that is ok
I have accepted this
As my fate
You see,

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.
689 · Jan 2018
Pitiful road
Iska Jan 2018
Ice claws gouge into my skin
Riping and tearing as I rage from within.
Raindrops slip down my cold glass skin
Mixing with tears I fight to keep in.
This winding road blisters my feet
As I stumble and fall
The end always out of reach.
I wonder if you will be there when I return?
If you will embrace me and kiss me
Or if you will turn me away in scorn.
What if this war that rages inside
Has burned you to bones
and from me you will hide?
What happens when my touch turns to acid
Blistering your skin.
What if your heart no longer loves me?
Iska Jan 2018
One day,
he will look at me and smile,
not worry.
One day,
he will hold my hands,
not check my wrists and thighs.
One day,
he will see me laugh,
and not search for tears hidden in my eyes.
One day,
he will dance and smile,
not hold me and cry.
One day,
he will kiss me in the mirror,
not cover my eyes.
One day,
we will go on adventures,
not terrified to go outside.
One day,
we will playfully banter,
not bicker and argue.
One day,
he will look at me and joke around,
not watch himself,
worried he will cause me to fall apart.
One day,
we will be happy.
One day,
we will be healthy.

One day... One day.
To all of you who are at that "almost"
Dreaming for the "one day"
To turn into "today"
Becuse I understand.
And it will happen.
....One day.

Also for DreamMare
Who makes me feel a little less alone
Keep writing my dear.
There is healing in it.
677 · Mar 2018
Iska Mar 2018
The mirror seems to stretch and grow, distorting the depiction that it shows.
In his arms I am beautiful,
In her eyes I am a blinding light,
But the mirror proves them all false,
And shows me that I never look quite right.
I try  and I try
But it’s never enough
I laugh and I cry
But I can’t seem to hold onto my bluff
That I am “ok
That there is nothing more to say
That I am alright
That I don’t go down without a fight
When in all truth
Ive fallen apart
All skin and bones
With a frail heart
Can you see me breaking?
Can you hear me shaking?
Isn’t it breathtaking?!
The sight of me placating
This morbid mirror
All cracked and shattered
Depicting all that I fear
But please believe me
And my fake bluff
So that I may fool myself
Into beliveing that I am enough.
673 · Oct 2017
Iska Oct 2017
I own about 300 books.
That's 300 main characters,
With roughly 2700 sub main characters.
Its about 12020 chapters,
With about 162600 pages
And about 3252000 sentences,
With roughly 55284000 words.
And that doesn't even account for all the books I have read, which if you know me, is most likely an impressive number.
Yet, of all the worlds I can slip into, with all the characters and personalities I can become, with all the differently written chapters, of all the beautiful unique words....
I can't seem to find the will to escape, can't seem to find the right story to disappear into. Can't find the perfect character to adapt to, can't find the ability to slip into the vast worlds of paper and ink... Of all those beautiful words, can't find one among them to place my emotions much less hold my attention.
I hate it when this happens,
When you can't find the will to disappear into the one thing you love, and have always been able to rely on to escape for just a short while.
No instead your stuck in your own mind with all of its dark chapters, distorted stories and twisted characters. Where, those same beautiful and unique words, are all jumbled together strung up in all the wrong ways. Oh what a dreary feeling. A hopelessness that consumes ones mind, usually so full of humor and imagination, now tethered down to a morbid and dark world
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