Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"spoilers" poems
i hope you get into medical school so all i have to do is eat an apple everyday i hope you always have money to buy extra bread-sticks but never the self control stop eating them i hope your 15 seconds of fame falls on daylight savings i hope you never avoid movie or tv spoilers   i hope your children are loved and cared for but have their hearts broken by mine i hope you always anticipate a surprise birthday party i hope you always wake well rested 3 hours late for work i hope you dance in the metaphoric rain and catch metaphoric pneumonia i hope your next thanksgiving is spent in an airport i hope you are mildly inconvenienced every morning i hope all your book pages stick together i hope that you always will question if you left your oven on i hope your future roommates always use all the hot water i hope you always find the words to say but never the right time to say them i hope you never figure out how to pick a ripe avocado i hope all your dinners are directly impacted by the fickle nature of a toaster oven i hope your curiosity gets the better of you and you find out what cat food tastes like i hope your favorite band breaks up and you miss their kick *** reunion tour i hope you watch an unhealthy amount of daytime tv i hope you outlive me on the off chance that your paper boy will miraculously skip your house on the day my obituary is printed because nothing would make my ghost happier to know that you were forced to find out after  literally everyone else that i passed away in my sleep surrounded by people who loved me while you sat in your house old grey never thinking of me until you read some 50 words in a newspaper and even if its for a second i want you to wonder what kind of life i had because you will have had no part in it.
0
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 11:25 AM UTC
finding elegant ways to say go **** yourself
i hope you get into medical school so all i have to do is eat an apple everyday i hope you always have money to buy extra bread-sticks but never the self control stop eating them i hope your 15 seconds of fame falls on daylight savings i hope you never avoid movie or tv spoilers   i hope your children are loved and cared for but have their hearts broken by mine i hope you always anticipate a surprise birthday party i hope you always wake well rested 3 hours late for work i hope you dance in the metaphoric rain and catch metaphoric pneumonia i hope your next thanksgiving is spent in an airport i hope you are mildly inconvenienced every morning i hope all your book pages stick together i hope that you always will question if you left your oven on i hope your future roommates always use all the hot water i hope you always find the words to say but never the right time to say them i hope you never figure out how to pick a ripe avocado i hope all your dinners are directly impacted by the fickle nature of a toaster oven i hope your curiosity gets the better of you and you find out what cat food tastes like i hope your favorite band breaks up and you miss their kick *** reunion tour i hope you watch an unhealthy amount of daytime tv i hope you outlive me on the off chance that your paper boy will miraculously skip your house on the day my obituary is printed because nothing would make my ghost happier to know that you were forced to find out after  literally everyone else that i passed away in my sleep surrounded by people who loved me while you sat in your house old grey never thinking of me until you read some 50 words in a newspaper and even if its for a second i want you to wonder what kind of life i had because you will have had no part in it.
Continue reading...
34
my test results showed divergent. but she told me not to talk about it, at least not here, or anywhere. ever. he told me i could not be found about. never. but they did, they eventually did. they injected me- with serums, different kinds of them. and i became their ultimate little experiment gem. one of a kind. every stimulation- every serum injected, i denied. i was useless. but then he came - my love. my Four. my Tobias to my rescue. i promised. not to put myself into danger, like as i always did. but i could not let him die. Caleb. my brother. my blood. i had to save them. all of them. death serum. i could. resist. but before that- he picks up a fight - wounded in his wheel chair. paralyzed. but still manages to, that little twa - stab. pain. i see bloo- thick red blo- mom? but you're dea- it's okay sweety, she says. where am i? in a better place. you gave up your life Tris- for them. i died? yes honey, you died, an allegiant.
0
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 8:25 AM UTC
Divergent. (warning: contains spoilers!)
I tried. I promise you, I tried. I loved you and You told me you loved me And I knew you did. And because I loved you I let you go And I knew You were at peace. At least for a little bit. You were safe. And I was hurting And I wanted to scream. I wanted to set the world on fire. But you were not in pain, And that was all I could ever ask for. But then he came And he brought you back. And it hurt you. You were in so much pain. I could see it in your eyes. Feel it in my soul. And then you were gone. Again. But it was not a peaceful end. And you were gone. Gone for good. And he won. The monster we made with our loss. And then I felt myself go. And it was okay Because I was with you- My Love. You were there, And he was there, Waiting for me-           I could see him. The other half of me. And I was gone. And my family           My family. They were hurting, But I was at peace. I hope they knew.
0
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 2:31 PM UTC
Scarlet *INFINITY WAR SPOILERS*
Look at world with simplest eyes; A child in wonder why black is night Nor why does sun makes you blind— Watch flowers in the field of rubbles, Chase butterflies with love in mind; To be free of spoilers and stereotypes, O, child look at them with simplest eyes.
0
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 11:25 AM UTC
simplest eyes
WARNING SPOILERS FOR UNDERTALE THE GAME!!! A scarf of red And a jacket blue Are all that’s left Of brothers two. One was short The other tall, But now they’re gone. You killed them all. You fell below And earned their trust Now you’re covered In their dust You wanted more DETERMINATION So you went mass Extermination. How could you be So heartless and cold? Now this story With sorrow is told. The flowers all bloom And the bird songs tell That people like you *S H O U L D B E B U R N I N G I N H E L L.*
0
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 7:19 AM UTC
R.I.P Papyrus and Sans - Undertale Genocide Run
"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint - it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly... time-y wimey... stuff." -The Doctor in "Blink (2007)" "Remember that time we.." Her voice calls to me from tomorrow. From yesterday. From a flat in England in 1969, all **** carpets and counterculture. All go-go boots and ginger hair. "Can't wait till we.." Her voice calls to me from today. From nowhen. From the bed a few blocks down the road. All apologies and heretos and whyfors. "Spoilers.." She says with a smile that cracked on her face yesterday and ends somewhen.
0
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 11:53 AM UTC
Spoilers
**~~~~~Spoilers Ahead~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~** Didn’t know SH was so amazing, A second degree mind palace, He was keeping. What we watched in an hour, And were perplexed by, for days, Had taken place in his mind, In mere 300 seconds! Baffled with the news of return of Moriarty, He decides to solve a similar case, That had occurred 120 years ago. He recreates his whole life, Complete, With Irene’s photograph, In his pocket watch. Fits all the pieces in 1895, All, Including John’s witty wife, Then enters the ‘cleverer one’, And fatter this time, Having already made a theory, He asks Sherlock to do the leg-work, Because Mycroft himself is busy, Trying to beat his little brother. The game is afoot again, All in Sherlock’s complex brain, He exposes the truth, Of Mrs. Ricoletti’s death, Just as he was about to know about Moriarty’s, He’s is woken by his friend. But he goes back again, To complete the story. To solve the mystery, He goes to the Falls, To again finish the problem, The final problem. But this time John interrupts, In 1895, And kicks Moriarty off the cliff, To let Mr. Holmes happily, alone, Complete the fall. Now he returns to the present, With a smile conveying I-know-it-all, And he does know all about the villain, His death, his plans, And the rest.
0
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 3:19 AM UTC
The Abominable Bride: Sherlock in the 19th Century
a silent laugh— an inside joke no one else can catch, trying to take flight over the height of a dream. but what is a dream if it only stings the eyes? an eye sore, instead of wings to soar. ...I am a prisoner of flesh and skeleton, fueled by passion, smuggling scars beneath my skin; blood turned ammunition, bones as empty shells clattering the floor. ...I am animal, and I am engine— _factory default,_ released into a world obsessed with modifications. we bolt wings like spoilers onto cars, __spoiled for choice,__ but never to lift— only to weigh us down. heavy disguises, dressed up as flight. and still, we dream of air. still, we hunger to rise. such a cruel irony: built for motion, yet forever grounded.
0
Sep 18, 2025
Sep 18, 2025 at 2:06 PM UTC
Wings That Never Lift
3 am and my head's still pounding, I've had this migraine for days…Temples throbbing, nerve endings exploding, like a rabid animal being sentenced to a barb wire cage with no food to eat and room to breathe. Thoughts are deadly. Fighting, bleeding, suffering in deep rooted pits of anxiety. My synapses are in full combat, but I'm a pacifist. I can feel it now. The change, the shift. I feel it. The voices, drumming, I can hear it, the fire, it's burning, flesh rotting. I can smell it, Like it's all being cooked up in one big rotten stew, except there is most definitely meat in it, and I'm a vegetarian. I am a child of darkness sworn to her own demons that were locked up long ago in treasure chest deep inside her old bedroom closet, Although I swear to you I never wanted things to be this way. It just happened. But know this, I am still holy, still pure, my tears still fall as transparent across the curve of my cherub face. I never wished to be so naïve. It's just that my heart is in shambles, and I gravitate towards almost anything that promises healing. This is why I have so many scars. They run left and right in a funny pattern from the carelessness of others trampling their ***** feet all over the delicate terrain of my heart. But I'm tired now And my insides are in knots. I can still feel it. The light, I see it. It's always been there and shining, always been calling, begging, reaching out for one swift touch to the tip of my finger, but I've been too afraid to answer. It's always been so warm and inviting calling my name. I can taste it…bitter spoilers. I'm almost there. I've just a few things left to do here. Just give me a moment. please
0
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
Stuck in the Undercurrent of Thought
3 am and my head's still pounding, I've had this migraine for days…Temples throbbing, nerve endings exploding, like a rabid animal being sentenced to a barb wire cage with no food to eat and room to breathe. Thoughts are deadly. Fighting, bleeding, suffering in deep rooted pits of anxiety. My synapses are in full combat, but I'm a pacifist. I can feel it now. The change, the shift. I feel it. The voices, drumming, I can hear it, the fire, it's burning, flesh rotting. I can smell it, Like it's all being cooked up in one big rotten stew, except there is most definitely meat in it, and I'm a vegetarian. I am a child of darkness sworn to her own demons that were locked up long ago in treasure chest deep inside her old bedroom closet, Although I swear to you I never wanted things to be this way. It just happened. But know this, I am still holy, still pure, my tears still fall as transparent across the curve of my cherub face. I never wished to be so naïve. It's just that my heart is in shambles, and I gravitate towards almost anything that promises healing. This is why I have so many scars. They run left and right in a funny pattern from the carelessness of others trampling their ***** feet all over the delicate terrain of my heart. But I'm tired now And my insides are in knots. I can still feel it. The light, I see it. It's always been there and shining, always been calling, begging, reaching out for one swift touch to the tip of my finger, but I've been too afraid to answer. It's always been so warm and inviting calling my name. I can taste it…bitter spoilers. I'm almost there. I've just a few things left to do here. Just give me a moment. please
Continue reading...
7
Sweet sylvan birdbath, Crows leave bones— pure waters taint,   .  .  .  Machiavellian.
0
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 10:42 PM UTC
Haiku ( spoilers )
One Choice, Can change you, Define you, Decide you, Three birds on a collar, One for every person, Whom she left behind, A gun, A knife, A fear, A height, A boy, A hand, A kiss, Goodnight, A mom, A dad, A brother, A normal life that's turned into a horror, A simulation, A secret, One she can never tell or die, A lover who is on the rampage, Can't tell between a friend and a foe, A brother who falls to her side, A mother and father who die low, A word, A sound, A train, A belt, The whole world is upside down, Should I cry or should I tell? My world is shattered, I need to fix the pieces, I am DIVERGENT and you can't change it.
0
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 11:38 AM UTC
Truly Divergent (Spoilers!)
Crazy, insane, she thought she was And the asylum collapsed As a dilapidated one does The death too strong The pain too near, Yet at the funeral she cried not one tear. She met a boy, with accent strong. And his curly brown hair seemed not too long. With his crooked smile And perfect teeth, She could feel herself wavering, Becoming weak. They both had dark secrets Yet told one another, But only at the necessity Of rescuing her brother. Some time has passed Yet she sees him again the one she used to call her old Boyfriend. Was this a hallucination? Some PTSD? "Or is this him standing in front of me?"
0
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 6:08 PM UTC
The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer (Spoilers)
#Sarah Josepha Hale  (1788–1879) We bring no earthly wreath for Time; To man th’immortal Time was given— Years should be marked by deeds sublime, That elevate his soul to heaven. Thou proudly passing year—thy name Is registered in mind’s bright flame, And louder than the roar of waves, Thundering from ocean’s prison caves, Comes the glad shout that hallows thee The Year of Freedom’s Jubilee! ‘Tis strange how mind has been chained down, And reason scourged like branded sin! How man has shrunk before man’s frown, And darkened heaven’s own fire within! But Freedom breathed—the flame burst forth— Wo to the spoilers of the earth, Who would withstand its lightning stroke, And heavier forge the galling yoke;— As well the breaking reed might dare The cataract’s rush—the whirlwind’s war! Ay, thrones must crumble—even as clay, Searched by the scorching sun and wind! And crushed be Superstition’s sway That would with writing scorpions bind The terror-stricken conscience down Beneath anointed monarch’s frown; Till Truth is in her temple sought, The soul’s unbribed, unfettered thought, That, science-guided, soars unawed, And reading Nature rests on God! This must be-is-the passing year Has rent the veil, and despots stand In the keen glance of Truth severe, With craven brow and palsied hand:— Ye, who would make man’s spirit free, And change the Old World’s destiny, Bring forth from Learning’s halls the light, And watch, that Virtue’s shield be bright; Then to the ‘God of order’ raise The vow of faith, the song of praise, And on-and sweep Oppression’s chains, Like ice beneath the vernal rains! My Country, ay, thy sons are proud, True heirs of Freedom’s glorious dower; For never here has knee been bowed In homage to a mortal power: No, never here has tyrant reigned, And never here has thought been chained! Then who would follow Europe’s sickly light, When here the soul may put forth all her might, And show the nations, as they gaze in awe, That Wisdom dwells with Liberty and Law! O, when will Time his holiest triumph bring— ‘Freedom o’er all the earth, and Christ alone reigns King!’
0
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 9:49 AM UTC
Eighteen Hundred And Thirty
#Sarah Josepha Hale  (1788–1879) We bring no earthly wreath for Time; To man th’immortal Time was given— Years should be marked by deeds sublime, That elevate his soul to heaven. Thou proudly passing year—thy name Is registered in mind’s bright flame, And louder than the roar of waves, Thundering from ocean’s prison caves, Comes the glad shout that hallows thee The Year of Freedom’s Jubilee! ‘Tis strange how mind has been chained down, And reason scourged like branded sin! How man has shrunk before man’s frown, And darkened heaven’s own fire within! But Freedom breathed—the flame burst forth— Wo to the spoilers of the earth, Who would withstand its lightning stroke, And heavier forge the galling yoke;— As well the breaking reed might dare The cataract’s rush—the whirlwind’s war! Ay, thrones must crumble—even as clay, Searched by the scorching sun and wind! And crushed be Superstition’s sway That would with writing scorpions bind The terror-stricken conscience down Beneath anointed monarch’s frown; Till Truth is in her temple sought, The soul’s unbribed, unfettered thought, That, science-guided, soars unawed, And reading Nature rests on God! This must be-is-the passing year Has rent the veil, and despots stand In the keen glance of Truth severe, With craven brow and palsied hand:— Ye, who would make man’s spirit free, And change the Old World’s destiny, Bring forth from Learning’s halls the light, And watch, that Virtue’s shield be bright; Then to the ‘God of order’ raise The vow of faith, the song of praise, And on-and sweep Oppression’s chains, Like ice beneath the vernal rains! My Country, ay, thy sons are proud, True heirs of Freedom’s glorious dower; For never here has knee been bowed In homage to a mortal power: No, never here has tyrant reigned, And never here has thought been chained! Then who would follow Europe’s sickly light, When here the soul may put forth all her might, And show the nations, as they gaze in awe, That Wisdom dwells with Liberty and Law! O, when will Time his holiest triumph bring— ‘Freedom o’er all the earth, and Christ alone reigns King!’
Continue reading...
55
I love spoilers They make me curious about things I shouldn’t be And that’s what drives me I love spoilers They make me do things that I shouldn’t be And that’s what ruins me
0
May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 10:09 AM UTC
Temptation
heart and mind both opened at the exact same time. outside of my comfort zone i quickly and quietly write the poem. regrets and fears of darkness from the past how long will AJ let me last? a dark secret i don't want to show just how long until they know? he seems supportive accepting and such and he says he likes me way too much l.r.
0
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 4:32 PM UTC
every last word (spoilers)
past Rock City we carry the fire! to the ring; where Führer fights a frail foe! to conceal what burns at 4 5 1–dire Big Brother won't notice our hearts aglow "Understanding: allow their point of view walk around in their skin; folks are just folks" Watch the merry-go-round go 'round a few "More Weight," says Giles, but a witch? deadly hoax The One Ring finally reaches Mordor Kings are justly crowned, Bingley marries Jane The Old Man caught the fish, or so he swore but Dad, Liesel, Allie, Winston are slain journeys are sacrificial, lives immured Cheers to pilgrimage we haven't endured
0
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 9:20 PM UTC
20th Century Wisdom (SPOILERS)
you can't tell me anything, Universe. I ask you I ask you I press the fate button. and you shut your coy little lips and say no no don't look no peeking- I'll just be behind this tree trust me, you'll like it- just take another step forward. yep, keep going. But see, How? how do I know you didn't paint a trompe- l'oeil of a pit just beneath my toe tips how do I know whether I'll fall into a cave or wind up in an office? Just open that door. I want to look into the hall maybe peer at your houseplants the radiators and doorknobs of the future. just some spoilers. then I'll leave you alone, I swear I'll turn off the lights, tuck in and just keep walking on til the end.
0
Dec 21, 2010
Dec 21, 2010 at 10:32 PM UTC
'Voyant
My phone was down To one percent tonight And I’m not going to lie I was scared. I thought it was a sign A sign that I might be Running thin….. Overexerting….. Over indulging. Work and liquor have been walking hand in hand down the street Likes its 1950. And I don’t like a lot of People these days Whether or not that’s because I am reading lots of Bukowski , Is yet to be determined. I think I can blame Bukowski On the work/ liquor combo. Maybe it’s time for a new job. The day I quit working in an insulation factory Was the day I finished reading “Post Office” On my lunch break. It was poetic. Yet this Art Gallery gig could be a good Summertime tool I am reading “Women” afterall. And I do get to work easier hungover Then when sober, and sleeping in. I took a deep hard look at myself The characters that surround Me the places that I Live and love and the things I like and love to do It’s the honest truth That I am confused And young And yet to evolve And full of love I ride in the back of trucks, on hockey stick spoilers and broken bumpers With long hair you can say the words like ****** without being ridiculed. Kids don’t go back to school because if I became a teacher the world would have a few more smarter fools and a whole lot more kids. Maybe as a teacher, I could inspire, and make one percent of a difference Or even more. A child teaching children, What a concept! “Never grow up 101” and  “Introduction to smiling” If I could fufill learning to this stage, It would be the world striking And not the teachers. Maybe its time for the youth of the planet To strike back. As an ode to the dead phone I once Needed to recharge, With a full battery of energy I vow to live up to my full capacity as a tool of change If my cell phone does to. *“Time to watch a little less Netflix and family guy kids, lets turn on a Ted Talk, if you like them and want to be able to outsmart those pesky grown ups, you should watch them at home too!”* Ted Talks today’s lesson, The peoples uprising in Egypt tomorrow. There is a one percent chance of this happening.
0
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
One Percent
My phone was down To one percent tonight And I’m not going to lie I was scared. I thought it was a sign A sign that I might be Running thin….. Overexerting….. Over indulging. Work and liquor have been walking hand in hand down the street Likes its 1950. And I don’t like a lot of People these days Whether or not that’s because I am reading lots of Bukowski , Is yet to be determined. I think I can blame Bukowski On the work/ liquor combo. Maybe it’s time for a new job. The day I quit working in an insulation factory Was the day I finished reading “Post Office” On my lunch break. It was poetic. Yet this Art Gallery gig could be a good Summertime tool I am reading “Women” afterall. And I do get to work easier hungover Then when sober, and sleeping in. I took a deep hard look at myself The characters that surround Me the places that I Live and love and the things I like and love to do It’s the honest truth That I am confused And young And yet to evolve And full of love I ride in the back of trucks, on hockey stick spoilers and broken bumpers With long hair you can say the words like ****** without being ridiculed. Kids don’t go back to school because if I became a teacher the world would have a few more smarter fools and a whole lot more kids. Maybe as a teacher, I could inspire, and make one percent of a difference Or even more. A child teaching children, What a concept! “Never grow up 101” and  “Introduction to smiling” If I could fufill learning to this stage, It would be the world striking And not the teachers. Maybe its time for the youth of the planet To strike back. As an ode to the dead phone I once Needed to recharge, With a full battery of energy I vow to live up to my full capacity as a tool of change If my cell phone does to. *“Time to watch a little less Netflix and family guy kids, lets turn on a Ted Talk, if you like them and want to be able to outsmart those pesky grown ups, you should watch them at home too!”* Ted Talks today’s lesson, The peoples uprising in Egypt tomorrow. There is a one percent chance of this happening.
Continue reading...
71
Heaven's angels began calling Good to the left if you please Shunned evil to the right Those cruel and unkind To the suffering poor Blind War mongers Spoilers of the earth In whose heart's greed was kept Black minds where waiting darkness Lay coiled and slept Satan's angel's Cunning and foreboding Counted condemned heads To each other smiled and nodded While the godly and humble Blessed solitary souls Bestowed with love and grace To God's delight Were embraced by arms of holy light The sky was falling Heaven and hell's angels began calling The world turned upside down As the night became day The day melted into night Humans formed two lines The good stay on the path to the left Evil to the the right This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby Jan. 20, 2014
0
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC
The Sky was Falling
If you live to be ten, Then kudos to you. Don't expect you'll live forever, Or that you'll have your bed beneath you when you pass on, Or that your loved ones will be surrounding you. Don't make plans for death, It's going to come. It's your call to say to yourself I am going to die soon enough Because you are going to. When you realize that is the day you'll actually start living. Some think that life's too long and they have no interest in it all, Others go through life oblivious, Thinking that death is a blip far away from the present. Those are the ones who do nothing with the time they are given, They always think they have more of it. Spoiled, We are a spoiled humanity, Life is never enough. Do not be spoiled. How do we go about unspoiling ourselves?
0
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 3:14 AM UTC
Death and Spoilers
Dare I tell a tale, oh so eerie, faces go pale, senses are lost, as knell overflows the hearing, unheard, hair fall tossed, blood brought to a boil. It opens with moss and greenery, hinting a shallow soil, painting the scene peaceful, serene, but the coating is fresh and thin. Like something was quickly covered beneath, the way you'll surely hide behind a grin the grinding of your teeth, in just a moment. "Why the rush?" comes a thought— good, nicely caught, but no spoilers. The deed that's done here, spawned by a curse like no other— It cannot be cured, and only endured siphoning the life of another. Cruel is fate of those who astray and open up hearts to darkest of arts allured by their offer. Reading through verses of old, they want to behold the world through the eyes of their foul sires, and learn from grim tomes the knowledge untold, until they’re absorbed and molded akin, so they, too, may sin with the same sins, following the same desires. Now, I'm really sorry, but here ends the story, my gourmet hunger satisfied, you were most kind! You see, I'm of such readers, I am accursed, and I've rummaged through the purse of your lifespan for quite some time. But this was much needed! I hope you don't mind! Just please turn the page and I'm sure you'll be fine!
0
Mar 19, 2025
Mar 19, 2025 at 9:42 AM UTC
Vampire
Prising through the fog like creeping fingers headlights approach slowly, glaring and foul from beneath the obscurement of mist, a demoniac engine gurgles and growls. A 1958 Plymouth Fury, one beauty of a car, spoilers whistling, axels whispering [THIEF] ancient, but without sentiment - the grills above her bumper curved into slender-hooked teeth blood-red and fat, a body that's sleek, bloated, ready to chastise; one twisted zygote, a devil's reject - from the depths of a broken heart, tendrils of fury begin to rise blue-smoke billowing behind in transient swirls, my mind bends as reality curls, still lay here and she's getting closer - and closer - [- oh leave me be - - just let me go - - crawl someplace where your face won't show -] She can't understand that my love for her is no longer, she can't seem to understand that my resistance to her charms is so much stronger - and still she speeds along the highway taking the night and violently painting it red, her wheels squealing towards the dusty asphalt where I lie my head, speeding along not slowing down - ["Hey stop! No please STOP!!!"] ///CRUNCH///..-.
0
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
My Pristine... My Christine
Steve your chapter is now over. You’ve had a wonderful life and you’ve had your closure. You fought nazis and you’ve fought aliens. You’ve fought Tony Stark too. And I never thought I’d have to say goodbye to you. You’re the most bravest and kindest and spirited of them all. If you ever needed me I would have come to your call. I know you had your happy ending. I’m happy and a little sad too. That I’ll never see you again. But your time here is through. I’ll miss your confidence that everything will turn out alright. But most of all I’ll miss you and your light.
0
Apr 26, 2019
Apr 26, 2019 at 7:52 PM UTC
Steve Rogers SPOILERS!!!
I tread along this road, directionless My compass broken, I can’t tell true North. More likely South I go, affectionless And in to time I march along henceforth. So taking to the mountains in retreat, I try to run away from things untold For with no way of knowing when I’ll meet This future that, until now, can’t unfold I try to keep presumptions out of thought. I try to keep my mind at ease and rest… But if I could have spoilers to the plot Perhaps these things would motivate the best. I tread along this road, directionless My heart and soul I feel are just a mess.
0
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 9:27 PM UTC
Sonnet 4
i talk with the color neon i bash my head on the gun wait… neon can talk? mylo interrupts me i crush him with a boulder wait… mylo was alive? my sister pleads “please, please stop” i put a gun to her head wait… is she my sister? my dad is dead i shot him wait… my dad is dead? jinx is what they call me so i talk with her wait… my name is jinx?
0
Dec 4, 2024
Dec 4, 2024 at 3:56 PM UTC
? (poem inspired by arcane, contains spoilers)