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"disintegrating" poems
euphoric paranoia accompanies your touch as you finger your way under my skin shadows on the curve of your neck jitters of reality involuntary fantasy caverns in my body unrecognizable reflections disintegrating away maybe its your love maybe its ****
0
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
addiction
Hey Human! I am your Sibling. Queen bee wings are Ripped, bee niblings are Smoked For Your Honey Sweet. Hey human! Listen your Sibling’s Buzz. Tiger lost bones for Medicine, Fox lost fur for Fashion, Sharks lost fins for Soup. Hey human! Do Not Butcher Siblings. Simba’s life is not your Trophy, Jumbo’s tusks are not Decors, Helmets of Hornbills are not jewels. Hey human! Do Not Reap Siblings. Emperors of ice continent lost land, Economics is making Amazon less, Logging makes Orangutans homeless. Hey human! Do Not Invade Siblings. Warm oceans bleach corals, Water depleted in cities, We ingest plastic regularly. Hey human! Do Not Desert the Earth. Overfishing is holocaust of aquatic life, Livestock levitates toxic emissions. Hey human! Do Not Prey on Siblings. Lichens stunned by pollution, Symbionts are disintegrating, Biodiversity is declining. Hey human! Be Together with Siblings. Hey Human! We are Offsprings of Mother Nature. Monera, Animalia, Fungi, Plantae, Protista all have common roots. We are branches of the one Phylogenetic Tree rooting Common Ancestry unto LUCA. Hey Human! We are Siblings. Hey Human! Recall your Siblings. Hey Human! Revive your Siblings.
0
Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 11:19 AM UTC
The Forgotten Sibling
I feel as if I am disintegrating, my atoms all wriggling out of place. But one look at you, and suddenly they all realign, back in their rightful space.
0
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
Unspoken
She strides down the street, Holds that cancer stick up to her mouth, Takes a deep breath in, Filling her lungs with lethal smoke, Gradually rotting away her Interior. Her heart beats out of her chest. [A heart divided between two hearts.] He’s waiting at the street corner Between the alley of lust and the Path of ignorance. She sees his silhouette in the Distance, a dark apparition. Her heart leaps out of her chest, Towards him, Reaching for him, Propelling her to him. She had absolutely no control over the matter. The other man she loves is home Alone, waiting for her too. Moments ago, he Held her in his arms, Kissed her goodbye, Told her to hurry back soon. “I love you.” “I love you, too” - the words Suddenly conveyed No meaning to her. She told him she was Running an errand, when, In reality, She was running away From him. [*A heart divided between two hearts Can never really be a heart.*] His love suffocates her. His love drowns her In its constancy, In its predictability. With him, she feels like a Bird with its wings ripped off. Held captive, in a wire cage. [*A heart divided between two hearts Can never beat the way it should.*] How can a woman with two men Who love her Feel so Staggeringly Alone? Who will love her until their Disintegrating hearts turn into Simply dust. [*A heart divided between two hearts Can never really keep from rupturing, Infecting the body with its own poisons.*] So she lets her underground lover Envelop her in his arms And kiss her until both of their lips Are numb, Until they both want more. Until they cannot restrain themselves. His love releases her out of her Cage, allows her to fly once again. The passion of these moments Will never be forgotten. His love brings the roses back to Her lifeless cheeks, brings life Back to the void inside her. And, his love allows her To fly back home, once again, Straight into the arms of the Man who is her keeper.
0
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 3:05 AM UTC
Torn
She strides down the street, Holds that cancer stick up to her mouth, Takes a deep breath in, Filling her lungs with lethal smoke, Gradually rotting away her Interior. Her heart beats out of her chest. [A heart divided between two hearts.] He’s waiting at the street corner Between the alley of lust and the Path of ignorance. She sees his silhouette in the Distance, a dark apparition. Her heart leaps out of her chest, Towards him, Reaching for him, Propelling her to him. She had absolutely no control over the matter. The other man she loves is home Alone, waiting for her too. Moments ago, he Held her in his arms, Kissed her goodbye, Told her to hurry back soon. “I love you.” “I love you, too” - the words Suddenly conveyed No meaning to her. She told him she was Running an errand, when, In reality, She was running away From him. [*A heart divided between two hearts Can never really be a heart.*] His love suffocates her. His love drowns her In its constancy, In its predictability. With him, she feels like a Bird with its wings ripped off. Held captive, in a wire cage. [*A heart divided between two hearts Can never beat the way it should.*] How can a woman with two men Who love her Feel so Staggeringly Alone? Who will love her until their Disintegrating hearts turn into Simply dust. [*A heart divided between two hearts Can never really keep from rupturing, Infecting the body with its own poisons.*] So she lets her underground lover Envelop her in his arms And kiss her until both of their lips Are numb, Until they both want more. Until they cannot restrain themselves. His love releases her out of her Cage, allows her to fly once again. The passion of these moments Will never be forgotten. His love brings the roses back to Her lifeless cheeks, brings life Back to the void inside her. And, his love allows her To fly back home, once again, Straight into the arms of the Man who is her keeper.
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72
I am a crumpled sheet of paper in the hands of my predators Their hands snaked around me, squeezing the life from my body, leaving me to collapse into their want Too young to realize, too weak to fight back ………                                                 He choose the game he wanted to play                                                 and I became a dice he could roll around                                                 in the palm of his hands                                           But this body is my temple, you lost                                               my game and there will never be round two ……… My own thoughts strangled me as my body refused to listen to my brain To touch my skin felt like fire burning through my veins, fire that ignited my predator Hopelessly sinking into the bed that became an ocean, water drowning me and continuously pulling me further down ………                                                          She destroyed my innocence where                                                        “playing house” meant I played victim                                                          and she played the predator                                                          But this body is my temple and you                                                          did not receive an invite to my                                                          house party ……… They had the power to take my dignity into the palm of theirs hands and crumble it up We are told when we crumble up a sheet of paper, you can never make it the way it was before ………                                                           He threw me over his shoulder like a                                                    rag doll and brought me to the place that                                      was once “my room”and is now “my nightmare”                                   But this body is my temple and not for you to play                                                  with like a doll you received on a holiday ……… Words disintegrating from my lips with the ashes of consent and destroying my trust for any human to touch my skin Circling the drain of intimacy ………                                                      They strapped me down and taught me                                                         that crying meant I was “asking for it”                                                              But this body is my temple and                                                              my words are louder than your lies ……… I wear the damage on my heart My body used against me more than the number of fingers on my hand ………                                                        But this body is my temple and when I                                                                            broke free of your *******                                                                    my temple grew taller than                                                                           your hands could touch me ……… I am a crumpled sheet of paper escaping the hands of my predator
0
Sep 25, 2021
Sep 25, 2021 at 11:35 AM UTC
crumbled paper 1
I am a crumpled sheet of paper in the hands of my predators Their hands snaked around me, squeezing the life from my body, leaving me to collapse into their want Too young to realize, too weak to fight back ………                                                 He choose the game he wanted to play                                                 and I became a dice he could roll around                                                 in the palm of his hands                                           But this body is my temple, you lost                                               my game and there will never be round two ……… My own thoughts strangled me as my body refused to listen to my brain To touch my skin felt like fire burning through my veins, fire that ignited my predator Hopelessly sinking into the bed that became an ocean, water drowning me and continuously pulling me further down ………                                                          She destroyed my innocence where                                                        “playing house” meant I played victim                                                          and she played the predator                                                          But this body is my temple and you                                                          did not receive an invite to my                                                          house party ……… They had the power to take my dignity into the palm of theirs hands and crumble it up We are told when we crumble up a sheet of paper, you can never make it the way it was before ………                                                           He threw me over his shoulder like a                                                    rag doll and brought me to the place that                                      was once “my room”and is now “my nightmare”                                   But this body is my temple and not for you to play                                                  with like a doll you received on a holiday ……… Words disintegrating from my lips with the ashes of consent and destroying my trust for any human to touch my skin Circling the drain of intimacy ………                                                      They strapped me down and taught me                                                         that crying meant I was “asking for it”                                                              But this body is my temple and                                                              my words are louder than your lies ……… I wear the damage on my heart My body used against me more than the number of fingers on my hand ………                                                        But this body is my temple and when I                                                                            broke free of your *******                                                                    my temple grew taller than                                                                           your hands could touch me ……… I am a crumpled sheet of paper escaping the hands of my predator
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46
Why are all the beautiful things In the world Ephemeral? They're short lived, Here today and Gone tomorrow. Just like a beautiful flower. That lives for only a day Before disappearing, Disintegrating, Blown away By wisps of the wind.
0
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 11:15 AM UTC
Ephemeral
I can't forget it. I promise that I have done everything to try. But these memories continue to cloud my mind. The air has never been this cold. All my youth has disappeared and grown old. All the flowers I planted have died, and the birds sound the same, and the stars have lost all their shine. I can't help it if I don't know how to reach out for help. I have always preferred the pleasure of isolation, But this silence is torturous, And now this crowded room I created is nothing but empty space. All this past hope is disintegrating. I use to hold my dreams close to my heart, But now it's drowned out by all the tears I always held back. I know I'm only an innocent. But my body is a gun and my body is a resting place for all medicines. So let me tilt my head back until I lose count. Now I fall asleep Now all the candles are blown out. Now I'm at peace. Now I'm fine. Now the only thing I suffer from is my mother's cries. I'll wrap up my bones And put them in His hands. Don't worry, mom, I know the sound of my first heartbeat, will always be engraved in you. I know you heard angels sing my name. They take me to a place where I am safe. A place that is infinite. A place in God's name.
0
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 10:50 PM UTC
Don't Let Your Body Be A Gun
Above my home where the dark clouds curl into the sky clinging for a home to rest their sleepy depiction, shadowed trees hum sweet lullabies, lonely leaves breathe in the sad song of fallen dimensions, letting its lifeless view roll upon their frame, the chilled breeze sailing in the skyline, as I scramble my way out of a filthy dumpster, a mountain of disintegrating mess covering my broken body, hovering flies surrounding sticky strips of spaghetti, moldy mashed potatoes, and moldy chicken *** pies, while my mind sunk into traveled thoughts, bruised hands pressed against the creases in my forehead, allowing my existence to feel the stranded scars streaming in various mazes, dull eyes flushed with a burning disorder, aching cheeks and chests nestled in darkening chamber corners, buried hips and thighs uprooting in somber blades of grass, thorned, torn, and destroyed in different worlds.  As I stood on the slippery pavement staring at the ruffled scenery in my sight, spinning streetlights thickening into slouched positions, screaming sidewalks spilling sadness and madness in the drenched air, razor-edged buildings inching into crushed centimeters, jumbled meters, ****** yards.  I replayed the sober images in my head, the way my young brown-skinned mom said I would never amount to anything, how I could hear the raged noun ****** sift into the distance, its flaming mechanics accelerating into screeching sounds, the way she hurled her fists at my smashed face, every vibrant language breaking apart, slamming shut into closed infinites, snagged contractions and gerunds diverging into shuddering double spaced negatives, the way she threw my lingering body inside the trash dumpster, her sharp scarlet words, You are no son of mine, ricocheting off savage surfaces, sparking my soul in a calamity of choking diction.
0
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 1:04 PM UTC
You Are No Son Of Mine
Above my home where the dark clouds curl into the sky clinging for a home to rest their sleepy depiction, shadowed trees hum sweet lullabies, lonely leaves breathe in the sad song of fallen dimensions, letting its lifeless view roll upon their frame, the chilled breeze sailing in the skyline, as I scramble my way out of a filthy dumpster, a mountain of disintegrating mess covering my broken body, hovering flies surrounding sticky strips of spaghetti, moldy mashed potatoes, and moldy chicken *** pies, while my mind sunk into traveled thoughts, bruised hands pressed against the creases in my forehead, allowing my existence to feel the stranded scars streaming in various mazes, dull eyes flushed with a burning disorder, aching cheeks and chests nestled in darkening chamber corners, buried hips and thighs uprooting in somber blades of grass, thorned, torn, and destroyed in different worlds.  As I stood on the slippery pavement staring at the ruffled scenery in my sight, spinning streetlights thickening into slouched positions, screaming sidewalks spilling sadness and madness in the drenched air, razor-edged buildings inching into crushed centimeters, jumbled meters, ****** yards.  I replayed the sober images in my head, the way my young brown-skinned mom said I would never amount to anything, how I could hear the raged noun ****** sift into the distance, its flaming mechanics accelerating into screeching sounds, the way she hurled her fists at my smashed face, every vibrant language breaking apart, slamming shut into closed infinites, snagged contractions and gerunds diverging into shuddering double spaced negatives, the way she threw my lingering body inside the trash dumpster, her sharp scarlet words, You are no son of mine, ricocheting off savage surfaces, sparking my soul in a calamity of choking diction.
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36
Inspiration strikes a sadness in my mind Lightening fires of truth so bright I go blind Wide awake yet dreaming of another time Another place where things used to be fine But in the back of my mind, where that inspiration strikes, I feel alive and alone in the sadness that overwhelms me at times, surrounded by the dream floating behind my eyes uncontrollably, bouncing off my mind getting ideas of time and space and distances between two places, satisfaction and depression, a thin line rests between my eyes, like a target, the bullseye is my soul and it's slowly disintegrating with every shot, look and insult fired my direction. I'm losing control. And my dreams are gaining ground, taking over and my reality is lost in the background. My soul can no longer hear a sound. I think I've died. I've tried to come back around, telling myself it'll be alright. But I lied.
0
Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 6:37 PM UTC
Inspiration, Desperation, Consolidation
Am I a crumpled sheet of paper in the hands of my predators? We are told a crumble sheet of paper can never be the same again. My own thoughts strangled my voice as my body refused to listen to my brain “No” did not come out. Apparently my kicking was not enough. To touch my skin felt like fire burning through my veins, fire that ignited my predator I never knew a sensual touch could feel so haunting. Hopelessly sinking into the bed that became an ocean, water drowning me and continuously pulling me further down Maybe if I surrender my body it will go faster. Words disintegrating from my lips with the ashes of consent and destroying my trust for any human to touch my skin How can I let another be this close when all I feel is you again? Circling the drain of intimacy I remember what your hands felt like. What if theirs feel the same? I wear the damage like an extra layer of skin This is deeper than just *** How can I love again? How can I trust again? My body used against me more than the number of fingers on my hand Do I tell them? What if their afraid to touch me? What if I’m afraid to touch them? They have to go.
0
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 12:32 PM UTC
crumbled paper 2
They said pain is temporary But I can feel my bones disintegrating at a rapid pace the more I think about your goodbyes you keep sending me. I can feel my blood entering the veins to my brain like a bullet train the moment you wanted me out of your life. I can feel my breathe reaching an unsteady,   erratic tempo as my pulse flutters in my heart the moment you said you love someone else.   It has been 6 months exactly since the the day you turned around and never looked back.   But the pain is still here.   It's still destroying the **** out of me. It's as if I would run out of breath and collapse any moment. Tell me. How do you **** a feeling?
0
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 9:18 AM UTC
1
A figure in the distance lives on a monetary hill by siphoning off pensions. An absence of motive for this hellish apparition. Grandiose a la mode, Slaves to inattention. Pace yourself Take your drugs Sign for help Relinquish us Pampering lifestyles of dying and self-destructing ones spiraling into the light disintegrating amongst the dance of suns. Because eyes are always watching taking notes on what you've become.
0
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 12:00 AM UTC
Lifestyles
what was once a galaxy has become a minefield of massive black holes, and all our rocket ships have crash landed without taking us home. lost dreams of flying, mechanical wings, intergalactic suffocation, stars in glass jars as souvenirs just in case we got close to the moon. we took off as one, our faulty parts disintegrating upon reaching the exosphere. turbulence, then nothingness, a lack of closure, and gravity working in reverse.
0
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 1:47 AM UTC
how astronauts die
Cannabis Cannabis Are you my friend? We've  been asking this question Since who knows when From the bedroom To the bathroom To the den, Sitting out on the porch Or out on the back deck Out by the cactus Out in the pasture with the brook running through it Or in The redwoods ecstatic in the moving fog With the walls closing in To the poetry within, Contentment, lethargic exhaustion, anxiety, with the music moving, self consciousness exquisite, ego disintegrating Remembering, forgetting, Remembering Back again Oh, cannabis cannabis Are you my friend We've had the dance I can't deny From stems and seeds To Humboldt flower dispensary Many stops in between You've played with my mind Sometimes I wonder who I would have been Cannabis, oh cannabis Are you my friend? (Old friend).
0
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
The Old Hippies Delight (Oh Cannabis, Oh Cannabis)
the sky blushes at the sight of you while the wind can't keep its hands away, caressing feeling kneading/needing every inch of your delicate frame and together you dance through the dawn in an intricate waltz to music only you can hear the sky blushes at the sight of you while the clouds whisper sweet things about you, gossiping admiring lusting over the concept that someone as beautiful as you might be able to one day love them too, but knowing you wont they disperse and clear your view to leave only the blushing sky in their wake with nothing left to hide behind the sky blushes at the sight of you while the moon attempts to catch one last glimpse of you sneaking stretching peeking over the horizon to see just how beautiful a creature you are, but it can't stay long so it settles for the scrapes on your knees and the bruises on your knuckles and can't help but think that they only add to your unsurpassable beauty the sky blushes at the sight of you while you stare at the stars that are rapidly and seemingly altogether fading melting disintegrating because the sky cannot help but stare back at the lovely soul that gazes above to make the sky wonder if it's pretty enough, so the sky goes through every colour to please you, black, blue, grey, purple, orange, before finally giving up in a fit of embarrassment that you always seem to find prettiest the sky blushes at the sight of you while you can't help to blush back
0
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 3:19 AM UTC
the sky blushes at the sight of you
oh i can tell you why Brexit happened... apparently in light of the European i was not European enough, a mongrel, a ******* Mongol... eastern Europeans are Mongols, mind you...                 i'm pretty sure the Brexit vote happened... because the A8 joined...         when the Eatern European joined the old post-colonial powers... plenty of Pakistanis...      do i mind? do i ******* care?! i don't care... you deal with: the minding!     no...   i have an inheritance tax without any ceremonial                                 past... your **** is your ******* **** plus the Arab, and the curry... **** off!             i'm no ******* *vierte ***** pussy-whip... you ******* yo-yo oreo!         mind you? put me down on this one... i hate the Poles... i ******* hate the Poles...    what they did to the Chernobyl me? i hate the Polacks...     don't like them...                i'd rather spit than talk to them...    i've learned my lesson...                     i hate them more than the Germans, or the Russians... i hate them with the sort of hatred reserved for               patriots...   Judas Priests...    i abhor the ****** catholicism... it makes me... cringe...                 then i think: thickens the thong - better than the Islamic crap to mind making a boot... Brexit only happened because of the supposed invasion of the A8...    the Pakistani mobile gave off a jitter - somehow the "excess" Europeans migrated...               whites combined with whites... Europeans mingled... big problem for the Pakistanis... Brexit only happened because "eastern" Europe joined the *vierte *****   well... "joined"...       some of us had enough sense as to keep the currency...   ******* Pakistani bullshitters...   what?! i thought English girls loved being gang-rape-fucked?!   no?!    my bad...                 the joining of the A8 disrupted the presence of Britain in the EU...          thumbs up on the curry-sauce... thumbs down on the Baltic sauerkraut.... guess what?!                           **** you! you ******* British Empire bonkers...   relief contra racism with an Empire disintegrating!   wankers...                    sure, beseech alliances outside of Europe...   seek them, find them, govern them...       the next time you come shoveling your **** into my: awareness... i'll be asking... so... Rotherham...           no, not really... don't bother me with that sort of **** you deal with your ******** before shoving your ***** into my mouth expecting me to gargle on the produce...                you're closer to Pakistan than i am to Mongolia... you draw the the postcard... i'll draw the pretty picture. don't get me wrong, thought, i hate the Polacks... i don't belong between them...    i'd prefer to be strapped to a Hydra of homeless dogs... than exercise the humanity of a shared tongue with these... mongrels; mind you... the British are just as bad... when it comes to their, mongrel stature.
0
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
the Mongols are coming! / scenes from Warsaw
oh i can tell you why Brexit happened... apparently in light of the European i was not European enough, a mongrel, a ******* Mongol... eastern Europeans are Mongols, mind you...                 i'm pretty sure the Brexit vote happened... because the A8 joined...         when the Eatern European joined the old post-colonial powers... plenty of Pakistanis...      do i mind? do i ******* care?! i don't care... you deal with: the minding!     no...   i have an inheritance tax without any ceremonial                                 past... your **** is your ******* **** plus the Arab, and the curry... **** off!             i'm no ******* *vierte ***** pussy-whip... you ******* yo-yo oreo!         mind you? put me down on this one... i hate the Poles... i ******* hate the Poles...    what they did to the Chernobyl me? i hate the Polacks...     don't like them...                i'd rather spit than talk to them...    i've learned my lesson...                     i hate them more than the Germans, or the Russians... i hate them with the sort of hatred reserved for               patriots...   Judas Priests...    i abhor the ****** catholicism... it makes me... cringe...                 then i think: thickens the thong - better than the Islamic crap to mind making a boot... Brexit only happened because of the supposed invasion of the A8...    the Pakistani mobile gave off a jitter - somehow the "excess" Europeans migrated...               whites combined with whites... Europeans mingled... big problem for the Pakistanis... Brexit only happened because "eastern" Europe joined the *vierte *****   well... "joined"...       some of us had enough sense as to keep the currency...   ******* Pakistani bullshitters...   what?! i thought English girls loved being gang-rape-fucked?!   no?!    my bad...                 the joining of the A8 disrupted the presence of Britain in the EU...          thumbs up on the curry-sauce... thumbs down on the Baltic sauerkraut.... guess what?!                           **** you! you ******* British Empire bonkers...   relief contra racism with an Empire disintegrating!   wankers...                    sure, beseech alliances outside of Europe...   seek them, find them, govern them...       the next time you come shoveling your **** into my: awareness... i'll be asking... so... Rotherham...           no, not really... don't bother me with that sort of **** you deal with your ******** before shoving your ***** into my mouth expecting me to gargle on the produce...                you're closer to Pakistan than i am to Mongolia... you draw the the postcard... i'll draw the pretty picture. don't get me wrong, thought, i hate the Polacks... i don't belong between them...    i'd prefer to be strapped to a Hydra of homeless dogs... than exercise the humanity of a shared tongue with these... mongrels; mind you... the British are just as bad... when it comes to their, mongrel stature.
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111
He called me princess. I don't think much of it, let it slip my mind from time to time. I'm fine with it. Until today, when I watched a woman tell a little girl she wasn't one. Talking about how her daddy shouldn't call her what she's not and her mama shouldn't be filling her head with words like, "You can be anything you want to." Like, its not true and if you don't tell her now she'll never outgrow the idea of being A princess. And though Heaven forbid we dreams big, I, was definitely a princess. Princess Aleisia of the Beauties, a forest is my own back yard, my castle was a tree I literally believed gnomes lived beneath: Alglenia. An orphaned warrior; I was half gypsy, half native, half Neopian Light Faerie, And though I clearly was not a princess who did math, I protected my subjects from monsters and evil that was constantly trying to overthrow good. I could wield a Morning Star better than any boy on the block. I had inner battles with myself, for I had the blood and horns of a dragon and it was always a challenge to be both Athena's apprentice and an aspiring sage because I thrived in the dark. I was part demon like Inuyasha, I was Sango, I was Mononoke, I was Mulan, I was Pocahontas, I was Bell AND the Beast, I was Susan and Lucy, I was Esmerelda, Anastasia And that's still a big part of me. Because, if someone had listed all the things I couldn't be while my knees were still to weak for me to stand and speak up for what I believed in, I probably would never have been a poet. So excuse me for using the word "heroine" with the last ounce of innocence the world has yet to offer a little girl. Pardon me for trying to learn to infuse grace and charm with strength and loyalty. Now, imagine with me. The places I used to play left in ruin. My castles disintegrating. The echo of my battle cries through the forests and fields and mountains have long since faded because the heir to my throne never took her place. Deny her the right to grow out of her child hood? Deny me the right to write? This was never a career choice of mine, This will always be a way of life.
0
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 4:45 PM UTC
Algenia
He called me princess. I don't think much of it, let it slip my mind from time to time. I'm fine with it. Until today, when I watched a woman tell a little girl she wasn't one. Talking about how her daddy shouldn't call her what she's not and her mama shouldn't be filling her head with words like, "You can be anything you want to." Like, its not true and if you don't tell her now she'll never outgrow the idea of being A princess. And though Heaven forbid we dreams big, I, was definitely a princess. Princess Aleisia of the Beauties, a forest is my own back yard, my castle was a tree I literally believed gnomes lived beneath: Alglenia. An orphaned warrior; I was half gypsy, half native, half Neopian Light Faerie, And though I clearly was not a princess who did math, I protected my subjects from monsters and evil that was constantly trying to overthrow good. I could wield a Morning Star better than any boy on the block. I had inner battles with myself, for I had the blood and horns of a dragon and it was always a challenge to be both Athena's apprentice and an aspiring sage because I thrived in the dark. I was part demon like Inuyasha, I was Sango, I was Mononoke, I was Mulan, I was Pocahontas, I was Bell AND the Beast, I was Susan and Lucy, I was Esmerelda, Anastasia And that's still a big part of me. Because, if someone had listed all the things I couldn't be while my knees were still to weak for me to stand and speak up for what I believed in, I probably would never have been a poet. So excuse me for using the word "heroine" with the last ounce of innocence the world has yet to offer a little girl. Pardon me for trying to learn to infuse grace and charm with strength and loyalty. Now, imagine with me. The places I used to play left in ruin. My castles disintegrating. The echo of my battle cries through the forests and fields and mountains have long since faded because the heir to my throne never took her place. Deny her the right to grow out of her child hood? Deny me the right to write? This was never a career choice of mine, This will always be a way of life.
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32
There are clocks turning backwards there are rights being lost, you might think you’re unaffected but things are worse than you thought. For your wives and your daughters are now property of the state; they’ll be tracking their cycles and they better not be late. For your women are now watched by the militarized state; The old laws have been eradicated, cause it’s freedom the republican fundamentalists hate, and like the Taliban, your freedoms they’re taking. You better vote soon, before it’s too late, cause your rights are disintegrating. Come fathers and husbands throughout the land let’s give them an electoral beating that they’ll understand your vote is your voice so please take a stand. If the freedom of privacy's worth saving, you better vote soon, before it’s too late, cause your rights they’re eliminating.
0
Aug 29, 2023
Aug 29, 2023 at 9:37 PM UTC
a hard right
In the dark we marked tattoos of disintegrating constellations on our rib cages, our fingernails filled with ink. We were told they would last forever on 19 year old skin when carved on the night where each fallen brother of Sun kissed our mid-August goosebumps. The weight of our bodies cut into the grass. We came back the next evening to watch these human Grand Canyons sink deeper to Earth's liquid center underneath flashlight flickers of an approaching thunderstorm, each bolt echoing on the hearts of Lake Michigan fish. The trees fell inside our craters as we walked backward to my car, fearing for our lives, but immobile from each reaching meteor. Perseus fell through Earth's granite throat, parabolic melting of night sky. Collapsed Big Dipper and Ursa Major illuminated our chests over shadow of dying white pine.
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Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 6:30 PM UTC
When Perseus Fell to Earth
Fire Inside my lungs Inside my throat Smoke clouding my sight I see no end The flames are growing With every blink Tears flood my eyes The fire is unscathed All I see is red The red from my soul I scream The fire is encouraged My shrieks give the fire hope Hope is unstoppable I breathe in soot My throat is disintegrating Within my lungs But not my heart My heart fights back The warrior of the body No chance of giving up The heart creates hope Hope is unstoppable The epic battle The fire swings The heart absorbs The fire weakens The heart does not The heart becomes the fire The heart prevails The heart creates hope Hope is unstoppable
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May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
Unstoppable
You are the razor's glistening edge. Slits across fingertips. Yes, there will be bloodshed. Blood from tips to wrists dripping and spilling from my veins. It is not poetic. So I'll clean up my own mess. No nerves left to damage with the memory of you hardened, turned to stone, stored in nails and soft hairs. Locked away. No key in sight. I have tried to unfurl these fists, only to fumble around with the essence, the innocence, of lovers after. These hands are cracked, wrinkled, disintegrating. Their untold stories turned to dust. My palms no longer hold signs of a future. They can do nothing. Paralyzed by your pride. Paralyzed by your edge. Glistening. A razor's edge.
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Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 10:56 PM UTC
Appendages and Kitchen Utensils
My emotions are attacking again and this time I won't let them win It's clear to God that the enemy is waiting for me to sin. Anger! is the enemy's thrill for desire, Depression! it's the enemy's greatest obsession, Fear! is the music to the enemy's ears, Pain! is what brought up the enemy's gain. I was ready to fight but God refused he grasped my hand so tight that I couldn't move. He grabbed my other arm as he pulled me close to him he told me to stop, yet I wanted to hit the enemy with every whim! The Lord held me back like an imate in a straitjacket forbidding me to attack or allowing me to get the first hit He dragged me so far away that the enemy sighed in a bore, God whispered to me in my ear he said: "Ignore!" I kicked, screamed, plead away from God to fight the enemy, but it's no use after many attempts he still won't let me leave. "Ignore!" he said as I began to cry in a fearful dread it's no use, so I gave up and alow the enemy to beat me up until I'm dead. Few minutes later... the enemy looked at me very disgusted and confused he screamed: "Get sad! Be angry!" Silence The enemy was fuming, fire bursting out of his nose, sweating through his forehead, at this rate he was about to explode! The enemy's heart gave out he screamed again: "Be angry...be upset! Do it now!" Silence His arms are disintegrating His legs are inflated like a balloon His mouth were turning to ash He was doomed. The enemy retreats as I called him weak it was funny to think that I was like him, because my silence was surprisingly meek. I have now learned and understand that it's better to say nothing or lay a hand on the enemy. We should all ignore for what the enemy has in store because it makes all the difference. Therefore I will no longer be his slave... no more.
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Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 11:06 PM UTC
Hold me Back!
My emotions are attacking again and this time I won't let them win It's clear to God that the enemy is waiting for me to sin. Anger! is the enemy's thrill for desire, Depression! it's the enemy's greatest obsession, Fear! is the music to the enemy's ears, Pain! is what brought up the enemy's gain. I was ready to fight but God refused he grasped my hand so tight that I couldn't move. He grabbed my other arm as he pulled me close to him he told me to stop, yet I wanted to hit the enemy with every whim! The Lord held me back like an imate in a straitjacket forbidding me to attack or allowing me to get the first hit He dragged me so far away that the enemy sighed in a bore, God whispered to me in my ear he said: "Ignore!" I kicked, screamed, plead away from God to fight the enemy, but it's no use after many attempts he still won't let me leave. "Ignore!" he said as I began to cry in a fearful dread it's no use, so I gave up and alow the enemy to beat me up until I'm dead. Few minutes later... the enemy looked at me very disgusted and confused he screamed: "Get sad! Be angry!" Silence The enemy was fuming, fire bursting out of his nose, sweating through his forehead, at this rate he was about to explode! The enemy's heart gave out he screamed again: "Be angry...be upset! Do it now!" Silence His arms are disintegrating His legs are inflated like a balloon His mouth were turning to ash He was doomed. The enemy retreats as I called him weak it was funny to think that I was like him, because my silence was surprisingly meek. I have now learned and understand that it's better to say nothing or lay a hand on the enemy. We should all ignore for what the enemy has in store because it makes all the difference. Therefore I will no longer be his slave... no more.
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