"matresses" poems
I am nothing, nothing but oblivion,
a vast emptiness within a breathing host.
If you were to rip me open,
cut me down the middle,
crank apart my ribs,
there would only be a numb void.
Maybe the world would be inhaled
into my stomach,
for me to regurgitate,
stripped of all it's essential beauty.
No more stars, I will keep them for myself,
let the moon shine it's dull light
in the spotlight, with no one to share it's empty
stage.
Let the sky be dumbfounded with loss
and void of illumination,
and maybe with star-filled guts
I will shine again.
Everything I am,
everything i touch,
is robbed of love and joy,
for I am nothing but an afterthought
left by the shadow of death.
I'm surprised I can be seen at all,
for I am transparent to myself.
My dreams and goals seem a whisper
from the past,
warm and inviting,
their words tickling my ears
with skeletal promises,
concrete at the touch, but
with no deeper substance.
Filthy liar, tease.
I reach and grasp and tear my limbs,
praying to feel even the vague
memory of hope upon my fingertips.
I long for escape,
escape from an insomniacs dream,
the lines of reality and ficiton blurred into one,
for only nightmares and goblins await me
in my bed of anvil pillows and maggot ridden matresses.
Escape,
for even the stroke of my pencil,
once so lively as it romanced me into a verse,
paints a tragedy.
But mostly,I want to fly into the night sky and explode,
burdening the world with all the negativity I've gathered over the years.
And release all the beauty and potential I've stolen and hidden away.
With the anarchy that is my psyche, I will restore balance.
I am everything.
Nov 13, 2011
Nov 13, 2011 at 5:23 PM UTC
Hospital every year,
then every two.
This fragile heart needs mending,
for it's more than *******
Two surgeries,
three months
and seven years.
There were so many tears.
My heart is so fragile,
it needs great care.
I will be fine,
as long as it's there.
Aspirin for six months
and probably more when I'm fixed again.
Medicine and hospitals are part of me,
as am I part of them.
I was born this way,
though I wish it weren't true.
It was merely a mistake,
or was I the accident?
"I don't mind hospitals."
It's a partial lie.
They seem normal to me,
but a screaming child
keeps me awake
when I try to sleep
the beeps away.
Let's take a moment
to appreciate
that we have technology
that keeps my heart awake.
I'm not alone-
I already know.
My mother was there too.
Maybe that's why I'm so askew.
The nurses are nice,
the surgeons are kind.
I just wish the matresses
were a bit softer... (:
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
She's her own landscape
No illusions
Spends her time hustling
On the emptiness of matresses
She looks for the essence
Mirror's Mystery
Following her own advices
Protects her beauty
Shows her wierdness
Royal and unharmed
She looks for a vibration
The sweet connection
The eyes that will kiss her
Child of imperfections
Innocent without a reason.
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 6:20 PM UTC
I'd like to lay in the grass like I used to,
Back when innocence lit my eyes from the inside
And shone through my being like a thousand stars in my skin.
My stars got lost inside my veins somewhere along the way,
When I invited charm to sit with me, and
Traded in grass for soft matresses
And innocence for sin.
My weatherworn skin tore, and everytime
My stars leaked through the cracks leaving scars like comet's tails.
They only shine for a short time,
Until they're just a story that you hope someone will want to hear someday.
But my bones are poking through in too many places,
For anyone to believe I'm anything more than fragile.
And everyone's afraid to get too close.
I'll wrap myself in lace and paint my eyes white.
The dirt under my nails will fall away.
But I can't hide the hollowness in my chest,
Because nobody notices that thump-thump-thump
Until it's gone.
Feb 21, 2011
Feb 21, 2011 at 9:03 AM UTC
We are the ones who
Engineered golden rice for
Those who needed food
We are the ones who
Are starting to plan trips to
The iron planet
We are the ones who
Make earthquake proof matresses,
Buildings, and cities
We are the ones who
Are stopping malaria
With DNA's help
We are the ones who
Are actually learning
About mental health
We are the ones who
Saw racism and started
Black lives matter groups
We are the ones who
Push for equal treatments of
All ****** types
We are the ones who
Spread news from the source with just
A phone and a cause
We are the ones who
Are making changes, my friends
We are the future
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 6:13 AM UTC
Like bees to honey
are my anxieties to me
In subtle matresses
with sunken eyes
I percieve my neurotic dreams
my desperate aspirations
my misconstrued qualities
my blinded prophecies
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 11:51 PM UTC