Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
25.9k · 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 ****
All because I could not tell.

Should I weep in pain,
And ***** 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.
6.8k · 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.
6.8k · 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 ***** appears
a petal unfurls from within.

Then it's a bloom.
Such a sweet little thing.
Until the ***** 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?'
5.0k · 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.
3.4k · 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.
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
2.4k · Sep 2018
Iska Sep 2018
You think that you are ****.
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
2.2k · 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.
2.1k · Aug 2018
Night sky
Iska Aug 2018
City lights
Blot out starry nights
Burning so bright
We’ve lost our sight...
1.5k · 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)
1.4k · 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.
1.4k · 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
1.4k · Nov 2017
Iska Nov 2017
the beasts that claw and creep within
are often wearing human skin.
1.3k · 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.
1.2k · 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.
1.1k · 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
1.0k · 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.
1.0k · 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.
903 · 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.
859 · 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.
853 · 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
830 · 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
814 · 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.
803 · 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?"
780 · 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.
762 · 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?
691 · 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.
683 · 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.
680 · 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."
678 · Oct 2017
Iska Oct 2017
I love you.
You, who has bared sorrow unseen,
I love you.
You, who are facing your demons
whether it be alone or with an army,
I love you.
You, who are mocked and taunted,
I love you.
You, who looks in the mirror,
haunted by the reflection,
I love you.
You, who seem to own the world,
I love you.
You, who drink the acid they feed you,
I love you.
You, who roll with the blows life throws at you,
I love you.
You, who come home unloved and abused,
I love you.
You, who cant bare to eat, the food, it mocks you,
I love you.
You, with buckled knees and clenched fists
as you hold the weight of the world,
a weight that was never yours to bare alone,
I love you.
You, who has nothing but a pillow to cry on,
I love you.
You, who has suffered the pain of love,
I love you.
You, with a body count of victims,
stolen from you through accidents or suicides,
I love you.
You, with the guilt of survival,
I love you.
You, who wears your long sleeves and heavy makeup
to cover the bruises and scars,
I love you.
You, with the parents that wont listen,
wont care,
I love you.
You, who thinks no one would miss you
no one would care,
I love you.
You, who clings to your xacto blades
or your pill bottles or your lighters,
I love you.
You, who have none but the moon to bare witness,
I love you.
You, who treads carefully on the edge
just waiting for that one person
to either push you over
or save you,
I love you.
You, with all your pain,
all your happiness,
all your lies,
all your scars,
all of you,
I have been you,
I AM you.
and still,
I Love You.
and if i can love you,
then so can you.
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??"
641 · Jan 26
The Child
Iska Jan 26
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.
606 · 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.
592 · 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?
586 · Oct 2018
Iska Oct 2018
it spreads through my veins like ice,
turning my blood thick and sluggish
slowly crawling through me until
it settles at last,
curled around my heart
with its claws scraping at me from within.

its like this chasm opened from beneath my feet
and I have fallen through the *****
with no way back
and no bottom from below
all I know is the fall
and the brace for the crash

fears flit past my lips like a wish
dreams fall with me
glittering hopes collect on my lashes like ice
shards of sanity slip through my fingers like sand

and I am just...
I claw at the air
as if searching for grip
only to find nothing in the endless darkness

sobs ring in my ears
shrill cries for help
surround me
disorient me
only to discover
that the frantic voice

belongs to me
585 · Dec 2018
Delicious Delirium
Iska Dec 2018
Dilated pupils,
crazed grins and white lies.
Don’t you see the chaos writhing beneath my skin?
Ragged breathing shivering spines the delusion that I am alive.
Screaming nerves hysterical laugh can’t you see it will out last
all that I am.
An uphill battle where I’m destined to die.
A whirlwind that rages within as I yank out my hair and peel back my skin.
Masochistic they say.
Delirious on pain.
Rolled eyes biting tongues
I wonder why the world demands I live life perfect and clean,
when all I want to do is make such a delicious mess.
Your life is too much you say?
Your trying to catch your breath?
I don’t want my life at all, when was the last time I even took a breath?
I can’t recall.
All I know is this compulsive urge.
I want to break things.
To feel them collide and shatter beneath my finger tips.
I want to tear at the walls until my nails ***** and my fingers bleed.
I want this whirlwind,
this storm
to rage until it consumes the entire world around me.
So deliciously self destructive.
I want to bite and snarl and tear into my skin, making such a lovely MESS of myself.  
To tear out my hair and lash out at everything.
I want to know how it feels to explode.
Such reckless desire.
I want to open myself up to find a reason, ANY reason to stay alive.
And do you want to know the scariest part of all?
I want to NOT find a reason.
Pure insanity,
I know.
I want to peel my skin back, layer by layer, to make such a glorious MESS of myself, only to find it all for naught.
You see, there is a beauty,
in setting the world ablaze,
in shattering the ground that I stand upon,
and watching among the flames as it crumpled and falls,
entombing me.
Such a blissful nonsensical whimsical desire.
Such delicious delirium.
To watch myself go up in flames.
To ruin myself so completely.
So absolutely.
To witness the reckless beauty in breaking the world.
Of relishing in the madness and destruction that matches the chaos in my head.
I think we all dance upon the razors edge.
Some just dance a tad more recklessly then others.
585 · 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
567 · 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.
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.
544 · 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.
536 · Jun 2018
Stormy Sea
Iska Jun 2018
Free as the wind,
Changeable as the sea,
The beach holds memories,
Of you and me.
Sands that shift
changing our lives
Sunlight glints,
blinding eyes.
Oh free spirit spread your wings
And fly above this stormy sea.
Far as the winds will carry you
To wherever the moonlight leads you
May the blush of dawn bless you
May the fire that burns inside
never flicker or die.
May the stars bare witness
As you chase the horizon
And fly above the clouds,
Over the sea and
To the place where your home may be.
And When you have found your place among the stars
There you shall wait for me.
Kissed by the mornings dawn
Blessed with the fiery sea.
Free spirit spread your wings
And one day return to the beach with me.
For Juliee,
May you never face the stormy sea alone.
532 · 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.
443 · Apr 13
The Red Warrior
Iska Apr 13
I rarely write poetry for others
I find it to be a waste of words
But occasionally I will stumble
Upon a soul who deserves
To be heard.

So this one is for the girl
With the gleaming red hair
The one who bares an impish grin
Cursed with a storm that blazes within.

Hush little soldier,
Bow your weary head.
You hold the world on your shoulder
Your shaking knees bear the weight
your teeth ache with the effort
As you take one faltering step after another.

Sweat beads upon your brow,
As you attempt to accomplish,
that which grand Atlas could not,
To live and to grow,
to wander free
Whilst holding the world on your battered and bruised shoulders
Determined to succeed.

And then you stumble.
And then you fall.
The world has defeated you
You were merely human after all.

And now this maiden,
both young and fair,
draws in a breath of frigid air.

With steel for eyes
she bites her tongue.
Tasting a mouth
of copper and blood,
she forces her shuddering limbs to move...
and she stumbles to her feet.
Heedless to the seeming defeat.

With rasping breath,
her demeanor grim,
she squares her shoulders
and slowly begins.
Much like clever Sisyphus,
to move the Earth as a boulder,
up and down each hill.

And as I beheld the spectacle,
I am at a loss for words.
For in your eyes,
I beheld a fire
That scorches me down to my core.
I realized you had the strength to crush mountains as you began to step forward once more.

And in you, I saw my mirror,
I then realized you were quite like me,
Willing to sacrifice yourself, so that no others would bleed.

Oh brave Warrior, beware!
The Earth is no easy boulder to bear. For it will roll back and crush you. All that is needed is a simple gust of air.

But you, much like I, know this.
I can see it in your eyes.
You are no foolish simpleton.
If this were to happen,  
You would get up once more
and simply start over again.

So, my sweet summer soul,
I see you, and what a sight you are to behold. And since defeat is not in your nature...
I will stand by you.
And together this boulder we’ll roll.
For the Earth is quite a burden,
But one that is far easier with two.
And I am willing to go the distance,
Side by side with you.

So come, unbreakable spirit,
Let us begin at dawn,
And together we’ll conquer the mountains.
Together we’ll devour the sun.
And once we have accomplished,
That which grand Atlas could not,
We will know that the deed is done.
Having defied all odds,
It is we, in the end, who have won.

To the girl with hair of flames
May you never burn out
But if you do
I will ignite your flames
438 · 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
427 · Jan 2
425 · Nov 2017
My loving mother
Iska Nov 2017
My dearest mother

do you see it?
that's the space put between us,
filled with unspoken words and heartache.

can you hear it?
that's the defining silence,
filled with quiet disappointment and shattered dreams,
because I'm not the girl you hoped I'd be...
425 · Oct 2018
Writers Block
Iska Oct 2018
418 · Dec 2017
Iska Dec 2017

I am sinking, yet I don't have a ship to sink
I'm drowning, yet I do not have lungs to breath
I'm alone, yet I know I am loved
I love, yet I feel so numb
I'm mute, yet I can't stop talking
I'm talking, yet I have no voice
I have no voice, yet still you hear
I don't deserve you, yet you won't leave
You won't leave, yet I still fear.
Why is it like this?
I love you. And I know you love me..
So why can't we bask in peaceful simplicity?
Why must it be muddled with muck?
Why do I feel so stuck?
I should be happy.
I should be proud.
Yet I'm sitting here,
And this silence is way to loud.
"Crawling in the dark for you
Do you Burn amoung stars for me?"

Next page