"dainted" poems
i am a dainted rose
and the flames consume me
i know i am nothing
but i still try to grow
through the cracks on that brick wall
i just want to grow
and shine
the plastic
it traps me
it cuts the air off
my petals fall
and my colours fade
all
nothing
was i ever something
to someone?
i am a crumbled up piece of paper in the corner
i am a paper airplane
crafted with every ounce of hope
landed head first onto the floor
picked up
thrown and tossed without a care
came crashing onto the cold hard ground
god it hurts
picked up again
die
live
die...
eventually
i belong to the trash
i am a piano with broken keys in the middle of a forest
the melody long gone
i hold onto them
they slip through my fingers
like the sunlight slip through the gaps between the leaves
sparks kiss me
and my broken pieces
i try to sing a song
that beautiful boy
his fingers traced along my body
touched my soul
every inch of my skin
he admired me like a work of art
the breeze lifts my hair
he lifted my soul
i try to remember
yet the more i reminisce
the more they run
my memories are lone wolves
and i am the hunter
oh
please
stay a little longer
just
a little
...longer
for i
am
a dainted rose.
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 2:10 AM UTC
A flower.
So pretty and pink.
Free to roam.
Met a light blue one.
The light blue was the only other kind she's met.
Pink fell for Blue's Charm.
Time passed on.
Pink and Blue made a little pastel purple.
Pink is distressed.
Blue keeps wanting to leave.
Pink wonders if she should just end it all.
Pink is tired and feels alone.
Pink just wants peace.
Maybe Pink should find her peace.
So Pink takes a knife and leaves.
Blue never knew.
Blue went to look for Pink an hour later.
All he saw was Pink in the back yard.
On the ground withering away.
Bleeding out slowly.
Blue took her into his arms one last time.
Pink looked at him.
She said. "I love you Blue."
She closed her eyes and floated to peace.
Blue lost Pink.
Blue lost his hope in life.
His dream.
Pastel Purple.
He didn't get to be a father.
He went to find the same knife Pink used.
He stabbed himself.
Laid next to Pink and Purple.
Closing his eyes wrapped around her.
Bleeding out.
A flower.
So pretty and pink.
Dainted in red and sorrow.
Feb 4, 2025
Feb 4, 2025 at 9:19 PM UTC
Thoughts that darken,
winters so sullen.
In an empty blizzard,
there lay a lizard
Wrought and tainted,
pitiful and dainted,
in his apathy ignited an empathy.
Full of life,
full of necessity
The lizard with his pointed tail,
pointed neck, pointed nose
pointed thoughts, pointed prose,
was lost with a snow covered heart
This heart burnt blue,
his emotions ensued,
passion he seeked,
his fortune naught,
in endless oblivion,
he mindlessly fought.
The lizard lay so empty
Stopped he did his walk,
for a talk
Thoughts that conspired
Dark and unintelligible
Wistful of loss
An escape
was all he sought
The lizard thought to move,
but this blizzard simply grew
his snow covered heart
with endless haught.
He simply did not align his intent
with what he thought
In finality he tried,
fearful of his demise
But try as he might,
the shallow reaches
of his snow-covered heart
did not blaze this simple desire.
And so he lay,
weeping in dismay.
In this very finality,
he lost to what life
was simply not
In endless wallows
Sirens roared
Apathetic triumph
Blissful want
In this snow-covered desert
His movement stopped.
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 3:13 PM UTC