"prefaces" poems
Instinct becomes arbitrary when my willpower deters my integrity
Aspirations are mere illusion when my intuition exceeds my ailing grasp
A *********** creep of disintegrating fantasies releases
a
sense
of realism.
Nicotine surfs my limbs
as thoughts align with tectonic disasters.
Malice masks insinuating balance,
An inevitable roar of discontent prefaces
A cruising tune of initiated indifference
yet hope
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 2:21 AM UTC
I stare into your eyes
Wondering what they hold
Mostly what kind of lies
You were so so cold.
It begins with accusations
Prefaces and falsehoods
Locking me in damnation
Telling me what I could and should.
It's true you never honest
But you kept me wanting
You were forever my fondest
I never knew it would be haunting
Despite all this I still love you
I just want you to love me too.
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 12:38 AM UTC
I read all your words.
Relentless and enduring.
Twisted and strained.
Hope against hope.
I'd imagine it were I.
For whom those words were meant.
If it weren't so painful.
As agonizing as the silence,
that prefaces and concludes.
I've oft wondered.
Were there any words
meant for I?
Scrawled out of a heart truthful.
Meant to endure.
Rest now my soul.
Forsake hope eternal.
Sleep now in the knowledge.
It doesn't matter if you ever wake.
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 11:34 AM UTC
As I consumed by infinite numbers,
conservative prefaces,
artificial growths,
meaningful labels;
dreadful sins will always be as they are
forever stretching out The Love and a pity
become a perpetual giant concrete wall in between
don’t them all owe me a bottle of heady wine nor just a thank
o, o, o, please,
my heart is already ******
poured up by their tang of lies
how can I ask for help in a myriad of plastic hearts?
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 5:43 AM UTC
Thorns cut so deep
they broke through the barrier
of my hard whipped flesh.
They were coarse,
they were harsh,
and barbed with
the ambiance of
torment.
They pricked at my skin,
ushering up trickles
of crimson.
The small droplets and lines
of such a vibrant color
coated my skin in the
philosophy of neglect and
malnutrition of empathy.
Thorns wrapped themselves
around my body, encompassing
them in a way that showed
no
mercy.
I was the result of such an action,
I was cut and bleeding,
and yet I remained standing,
for the pain and torment of the
lingering thorns and their
barbed prefaces became
a part of me.
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 11:27 PM UTC
about the blade--
continually fished out,
lying limply in the
hand when out of its
element.
taking an unsuspecting
stab at breath, there's
so much of so much in
there, how not?
as what kills prefaces
what's worth killing for...
all that gluey light stiffening
with a count that's lost.
to be a good human being,
is an excruciating simplicity--
few make look easy.
though rather doggedly...
these eyes dole out their
encouragement: just try, just
give it a try.
then watch the feet move.
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 2:03 PM UTC
this poem might be
the hardest to write ever
because i promised myself
i would be genuine
not exaggerate
not tell lies
so i guess
i should get started
and leave the prefaces to
the famous authors
not the poets
or the lost ones
--------------------
i have something to say to
you
you, who is beautiful
despite every word thrown from
an unknown hand
across a glass screen
you, who is beautiful
despite every scar or burn
or open wound you
inflicted on yourself
you, who is beautiful
despite every raised hand
and every shard of broken glass
in class, the kids with no faces and too much to say
you, who is beautiful
despite note you wrote and crumpled up
you used to write i'm sorry into your skin
but you have nothing to be sorry about
you, who is beautiful
despite everything anyone ever said to you
or anything you ever said
to yourself
you are still alive and alive and alive
because now the storm is over
and it's time for the rainbows to shine
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 9:26 PM UTC