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Anne J Oct 2018
Strings, strings, wrapping around porcelain skin,
For why does the bruises not show?
With a waist, hip, and two legs that are so thin,
For why does the skin always glow?
Hair that never sheds, nor grows, nor messes,
For why does the girl not wash it?
With a merry face that still never truly expresses,
For why does the face not show even a slight fit?
Stoic, conjoined, the feet never stomping,
For why does the limbs never feel frostbit?
Perhaps it is a lie that the being is a girl,
As it is only with strings that she can ever twirl.
I did this about two weeks ago, as the poem you gotta send in order to the join the site. I hope y'all liked it. Does this count as a Halloween story?
sara May 2014
You cover yourself in a thousand tattoos
and then claim you're afraid of commitment
but they're there to stay, they're not going away
and you see the word 'love' as no different

once it's been said there's no taking it back
so you must be completely certain
that you'll feel the same way, the day after today
when you can't hide behind bedroom curtains

you ask to go slow
and say you'll let her know
when you're ready to for this to progress
you don't want any labels
just to someone to cradle
as you both quickly begin to undress

drinking and smoking to take off the edge
moaning and groaning whilst lost in the bed
your breathing is heavy, your back is all scratched
this is the life of *"no strings attached"
Shang Jun 2017
you kept me strung up
like a memory
of the death of someone
you used to love
you used me up
you gave me just
barely enough
to keep me there
as a ghost melting
into the memory of
someone I used to know
© Shang
Tammy M Darby Dec 2016
Call to me gently, laughing
Rules Death the King

Beckoning me fiercely onward
Vixens of love spurned sing
Their voices tempestuous and stormy
Furious as madman’s dream

The unceasing strum of insanity’s strings
Dementia led many poor souls astray
They pass through the ingress of the forgotten
A pity never more see the life of day

Powerless to resist the satin coffin of coldness
Or the music winged harpies sing.
Doomed to the end of eternity
To bear the misfortune
Of the unceasing strum of insanity's strings

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Dec. 22, 2016
Whisperer Jan 9
All I gave you was love and care
even if I was slightly bend from previous 'experiences'
All you ever did was stab me with words , breaking me further
And return those broken pieces wrapped in the cloak of betrayal
- The one you left broken
You knew my strings and pulled!
    I punched walls and screamed at
    you in drunk rage. You smiled.
    You played me like your puppet.
    I danced to your strings helpless
    as you strangled me with strings.
Ari Jan 2018
it feels like invisible strings are all over my body
controlling me
choking me
contorting me

there's string for my wrists

sometimes they are taut
sometimes they go slack
but they're always there
just waiting
for someone to pull the line
and **** me back

i give the strings away
those who i love always have at least one
usually the heartstrings
so when they love me
or resent me
they can just pull or loosen
and i will know

you know its kinda funny
so many people pull my strings daily
and yet
they are so oblivious to the fact
that the tightness is suffocating me
and if they don't let go,

i'll be woven to my death, like an insect fated to the spider's wrath
Just expressing something that's on my mind atm.
Pyrrha Jul 2018
Do you ever feel tied to a string drifting aimlessly through the world?
Forcibly being pulled in random directions and never the way you want?
Then why do you shy away from the one who holds you tight,
The one who tells you to ignore the habitual ways of the world and go where you want?

When they hold onto the string which sways you, dont you feel as if you have been stabilized?
As if the world is no longer just a blur, but a vision of clarity around those gentle hands which hold you in their grasp?
As if they are all of the answers to the questions life relentlessly asks you?

When they stop you from swaying out of control the dizziness doesn't stop
It leaves from your head and rushes to your heart sending butterflies to your stomach
Leaving you in a foreign position with thoughts you can't believe you hold behind your fragile mind

Before you have time to hold your hands out to catch yourself you begin to fall heart first for the one nobly clutching onto your wavering string
All the doubt and panic of the world seems irrelevant

As time passes the worries of yesterday fade away as you gaze into the eyes of the one gallantly at your side
As the distance between you fade your heart lightens as the strings connecting you disappear to be replaced by warmth of those stabilizing hands

No longer separated by the strings of fate your thoughts are clear
The one who's been there through all of the calamity
The one who held you when you were lost and insecure
Who brought you out of the veils of darkness and into the light
A friend, a lover, a soulmate
The person just for you who built their home inside your heart
Äŧül Feb 2016
Their voice so harmonious,
Silent when no strings attached,
All the curves so very ****,
Smooth is their texture,
Admiring their beauty with fingers,
You seat them on your lap,
Putting their arms around your shoulder.

Tickle them hard to make them peck,
They touch your heart with their sound,
Nibbling your ears in between,
The motion generates friction,
Friction generates heat,
So icy sweet is her music,
All over, you script success.

I talk of my guitar here.
I now possess 2 guitars.

My HP Poem #1022
©Atul Kaushal
Isabel Aghahowa Nov 2018
when my brain stops beating
and it stops festering in its perplexing notions
and stop-motion contraptions
it's veins and nerves
will turn into strings and wires
for bold machines and troubled moulds to gather
as it floats above the murky water
eating the life it rests amongst

tampering with the wildlife
it so valued, in its shelter
that now lives in ash  
as it melts into the soil and becomes a stone of reclusion  
that looks upon the stars by the coast
and meditates along the margin of its past life
Sam Hammond Nov 2018
Going through the motions,
A corpse on puppet strings.
Showing no emotions,
Too wooden for such things.
One day I'll be locked away
Inside my wooden crate.
Till that day I'll dance and sway;
A much more awful fate.
Chris Neilson May 2016
Never really cut the cords
to my mother's apron strings
used to keep my head below the parapet
in among the underlings

Slowly overcoming
the underdog within me
given access to the manager's door
I'd still throw away the key

Feel more Manc than British
never flown a union flag
no pride in ruling waves
life has more than a price tag

Rejecting the governing minority
where those with money have most to gain
representing the downtrodden majority
where my heart and soul is lain
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