Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Lizzy Jan 2015
Her thick brow,
Is only her choice.
A stance against norms.
2. Ribbons and flowers,
All tangled in her hair.
A decorative crown,
But beauty is not defined here.
3. She had many lovers,
Of many kinds.
But promiscuity,
Does not define worth.
4. Drink more than the men.
To dance with a love,
They can never have.
5. Politics are unimportant,
Only the ideas in your mind.
Of equality and charity,
But it will leave somebody dead.
6. Be bold and smart.
Follow your own direction,
Maybe dress like a man
7. When a trolley crashes,
Leaving you wishing for death,
Draw on your bandage.
Don’t let your broken column
Break your strength.
8. Don’t fall in love with artists,
They drink too much,
Cheat too much.
And will break your heart
9. Fall in love with artists,
A musician, maybe a painter.
You’ll never be bored,
You’ll always be drunk.
10. Just don’t let them break you,
Don’t stop painting because you’re hurt.
Don’t give them the satisfaction,
Of breaking your wings.
11. You don’t need anyone,
When you have wigs to fly.
Don’t need feet,
Or anyone else.
12. You probably feel like a freak,
Like the weirdest person you’ve ever known.
But as long as you’re weird with me,
You’ll never be weird alone.
13. Make friends with the past,
With people you’ve never known.
It’ll always be a source of security,
No one can leave that’s already gone.

I look at Frida through her paint, through her words, through the story of her life she has taught me not to be afraid.
The Trail of Tears we Sturdy Braves must face
Shows the Lone Star Maiden who won his Cause
Celebrate! Even Defeat sings your Praise
Now our Songs extract Victory from Loss
Just how Darling Painful this News must be
Which Fifty Swords stab our Sole Hearts intact
We are Respectful here; Just wait and see
If this Edict of Worries paint us Black
This is NOT the Way! My Promise to You
Even though you know me not from Adam
I am a Cowboy mighty Honest and True
West Traditions unite: Godspeed, my Madam!
Look, Diver Boy! The Medal on your Neck
Scowls at your Value and asks you to Relfect.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
N Sep 2018
It took me thirteen years to realise
the words in my mind were too deep for my mouth to dig up,
i thought it was easier to open my skin,
and let the truth pour down my arms.

it took me thirteen years to realise
nobody should be allowed to change your thoughts,
or hold pieces of your heart that you don't yet understand.

it took me thirteen years to realise
i will wear these scars forever
i'll carry them through every smile, every kiss, every concerned gaze,
i'll carry them to my grave.

it took me thirteen years to realise
the pain carved into the walls of my castle, etchings on my body,
attempting to die,

are not a story of weakness
but a tale of how i survived.
thirteen arrows are in the quill
breath is the bow that aims at the sun
unleash the mind from its attachments
as you tighten your grip upon reality
knowing for certain in your heart
that it will eventually all slip away
as water inevitably pours forth
from between clasped hands
nevertheless you pull
the thread of the sound current
until it’s absolute tension
reveals its readiness to play the song
of the silent passing of time
the arrow’s path is already
written in the sky
Gemma Apr 2018
A field
(Grass, mud, flowers, bugs)
One winter
(Hats, coats, scarves, gloves)
Was one of my favourite walks with you.
1,2,3,4 legs running full speed
Like they were designed to.
You were thirteen
and I know age is just a number but it means a bit more now there's something wrong.
Everyday your still mistaken for a puppy
but maybe it's because that's what age you are , forever, in my heart .
Who knew, cause I never did, that a dog could finally give a hectic family a meaning ?
Who knows , I don't know, whether when it happens I'll ever be able to pass the stage of grieving ?
You were always more than enough ,
more than a hug, a walk , a fuss
You are a part of the family
And you have served us love.
Grace Dec 2015
Maybe this is what trust is
Your scorching hands
Searing my shoulder blades
“I could if I wanted to”
Turned my insides gray

Thirteen year old skin
Stretched thin
Ached to peel away
Where your fingers had played

I was an instrument
But that’s not how I preform
I can only make symphonies now
Alone

I loved you
With every pulse behind my skin
Family
Blood didn’t have to make the bond
My protector
Becomes the predecessor to all my fears

If you’d press your ear against my chest
A reverberation of no’s would pound your eardrum
Freshly thirteen
Stolen firsts
I can never right again

“Don’t act like you don’t want it”
But it was you
Who mastered in pretend
Every word I write makes you more and more fictional.
athena Oct 2016
she had seen an entity
emerge from the river at five
spoken to another being at thirteen
some things are visible
only to her eyes


she was adored and loved
standing beautifully
her cigarettes were lucky
to be held by her fingers

she crossed her legs while sitting
an invisible book
was on top of her head
she had a beautiful voice
and she dressed well

people fled to countries
but the mad woman
fled to different realms
-she was my grandmother
s Oct 2016
We used to swing under the big willow tree
We lived 3 doors down from each other
We were princesses who fought dragons
We could save the kingdom and find our prince by lunch time
Our moms laughed and talked about how cute we were
Four years old was a cute age

Fast forward a bit
We went into elementary school innocent and young
Boys had cooties
Girls had cooties
Kickball always ended with someone getting hit in the face
We would always sit out feild and pick grass and shape it into a little birds nest
Life was good
Until your parents started fighting and I mean really fighting.
It scared me and I would have to go home
I would make you come with me
three doors down
Our moms didn’t laugh anymore
By Christmas break your parents were broken up and divorced
Eight years old was a confusing age

Junior high was mean.
Girls would rip you to shreds and then hang pieces of you on everyone’s lockers
Boys just wanted to make out
A whirlwind of uncontrolled hormones
We were the quiet ones
Always flew under the radar
Just trying to make it out alive
We found a little spot to each lunch under the stairs where no one would go
We giggled and talked about boys who didn’t even know that we existed
I remember crying in the bathroom with you because people were brutal and we weren’t good enough
Our moms worried about us and how distant we were becoming
Thirteen years old was a sad age

Highschool is another story
You were put in the hospital for a month
I was left at school alone
I had to find more friends
I found most of them were fake
So I ate my lunch in a bathroom stall
Reading all the swear words that were carved in the wall
You were really sick and we grew apart
We were always close
We will always love each other
You tried to save me from myself
But I didn’t let you
Seventeen was an important age

Now we are at different colleges
I tried to **** myself while you were getting an A on your anatomy test
It’s sad
We don’t swing under the big willow tree or fight dragons anymore
Our moms hardly talk
You are a success
and I am a failure
We don’t really mesh
I miss you every day
I’m sorry I can’t be good enough for you
We were princesses who lived three doors down, we saved the kingdom.
I love you
I’m sorry this has faded
Just like everything else
Nineteen years old is a dying age.
Really just a story
devine Oct 2018
there are days
when everything's new
don't know who's who
but it's not all blue

there are days
when the sand burns
and i yearn
for everything occurred

there are days
when nothing can be seen
sometimes it's thirteen
but to me it's not that mean

there are days
when i finally see the worst in my best
when i never want to admit that i regret
when i never expected such test

but there are also days
when it couldn't be better
when coffee doesn't feel bitter
when the pressure only causes one error

that's when she is
when the sky isn't bright
but her smile is
when the color isn't white
but she is

with her
i always find myself in fall
both weatherly
and literally
Kara Jean May 2016
Deranged and rearrange
Obsessed and repressed
You skim the surface,
Proudly believing you know the inbetween
*** is a flame,
Still tamed
Perfect doll patiently coaxing
It's a hoax,
Attention you spent
A rotted scarred, heart
Depiction of the girl who giggles and says yes
She died when she was thirteen
Along with her virginity
Here, in these ninety minutes,
This means something,
This one shot,
The single chance to prove
That those thirteen days (and a year before)
Were not wasted
Not simply an excuse nor chains
That shackled me to the desk,
To the chair, inside...
This is it,
Do. Not. Mess. It. Up.
Breathe, focus.
Okay.
*"The time is now exactly ten-to-nine,
You may start - good luck."
Lazhar Bouazzi Jul 2017
I
When the ant had told,
That December cold
Night, the grasshopper,
Who had spent his summer
Singing in the tree,
To go dance now that
He was hungry & free,
He didn’t show the hurt,
Because he was alert
To the pain
Of winter and language,
So he left the village.
II
When he, thirteen years
Later,
Came back as a baker
(Who worked in the day
And sang in the night)
He went to see the ant,
A blue guitar gift-wrapped -
In his hand.
© LazharBouazzi, TUNISIA
L B Oct 2016
I let you go
to Philadelphia
I let you go
thirteen goin' on “life”
to your momma-- (God rest her-- and keep you
--from wherever she is)
to your father in Philly
outa the picture

Sheepish in the doorway of my classroom
back again
one last time--

Say good-bye, kid, to your short stay in Scranton
a town that can't rhyme
whose name falls over its own misery
No use for outsiders

“Where's your book?
Found your binder in the rain
Soggy protest to school's demands?
Of course it's yours
I checked, ya know”

"No way!"

Desk's been empty, three weeks now
Still, gotta ask
“Whacha doin?
Where ya been?”

“Khmir,
I'm sorry for your loss....”
Thirty seconds shares our grief
Thirty seconds for your future's-- all I got

“Listen to your teachers!
Do your work!
Please-- be okay?”

Khmir
in your wooly black coat-- like a bear
like a dare
shruggin and dancin in the doorway
of the “show”

Homework? Aint happenin'
But one paper, though
on why--
YOU-- should be president

and I almost vote for you
"Life" refers to a long prison sentence.

This poem is meant to be an indictment of the American
"prisons for profit" system that disproportionately targets African-American males.
madyson shaye Nov 2014
sext: wrap me in the blanket that's in the back seat of your car, call her while I'm staring into space, tell her you love her out of no where
sext: uuuuuuuuhhhhh......I don't want to move in with you
sext: I love you but I'm moving a thousand miles away
sext: I love you so I'm moving a thousand miles away
sext: I'm moving a thousand miles away BECAUSE I love you
sext: I want to bite off your tongue
sext: really bad
sext: you shouldn't have told her you love her when I was already off the ledge
sext: I'll bite your lip, it'll bleed, red will pour down your mouth and your clothes and your horns will poke through and BOOM! satan
sext: baby baby BABY you turn me on
sext: especially when your actions completely correlate with what I was always told not to do
sext: I was told not to do you, but, well....ok we were supposed to hangout at a park like this is a ******* indie movie but this cop told me that park was closed? I didn't know parks ******* close? so we met in a parking lot and you mentioned how your roommate wasn't home and la la la la LAAAAA, we ended up on your living room floor and the carpet was covered in my black lace
sext: I'm wearing high heels, tall ones. I'm 5' 11 1/2", you're, ummm...something. someone. oh yeah, I'm in love with you. well, I dunno about that anymore what's love? I defined it and it said "sext: an intense feeling of deep attachment". ah, ok, got it. I now understand you, love. this was supposed to be **** ya no, like me running down the back your legs in my red high heels, sending chills through your veins and breaking all of your bones. ****** ****, right? **** I ruined it when I brought up love  
sext: uh, it's been 3 days since we've talked. I know you said like 3 months ago that we needed to "draw new lines for each other" and "figure out how to have self control and not pounce the other when we're alone and I play smashing pumpkins" but we've ****** like what, 40 times since? and you told me you loved me and begged me not to leave soooooooo....? those lines need to be erased buddy boy
sext: uhg. you don't get it. I'm tired.  got so drunk I could barely stand last night. slept for fourty minutes. then worked a thirteen hour shift. I'm sorry. give me a kiss. no? but this is supposed to be a sext?
sext: nothing you say is equivalent to a sext these days
sext: take your clothes off
sext: take your clothes off
sext: then take mine off
sext: then take mine off
sext: you wear mine, I wear yours
sext: jk babe the clothes are off we're ******* ******
I was just staring at the invitation someone gave me
Yes, that someone who played a significant role in my life
My eyes are crying,  my heart's in agony
For I never thought it will bring me this strife

As tears rolled on my cheeks, I reminisced that day when we first met
That day when you gave my life a new direction
My reminiscing stopped for a knock was heard
"Twas my friend saying, "Hurry up, we're late for his ordination"

As I entered the church, I gazed at the altar
On that same altar where thirteen years ago
You held my hand, saying "I love you with all my heart
But there is someone whom I love more than the way I love you"

I see, it's God whom you really love more
I cannot blame you, for after all
You wanted to serve him for the rest of your life
All the while, you were waiting for His call

Today is the day you have been waiting for
The day where everyone will get to call you "Father"
How I wish we could have a picture together
But I am your ex-lover, It'll just make you bothered

The ceremony has ended, your mother saw me
My heart stopped, I didn't hear a noise
She muttered "Hey sweetie, long time no see!"
I was about to reply when I heard a familiar voice

As I gazed around I saw a lovely man
Yes, that same man  whom I loved for thirteen years
He still looks handsome in that clerical collar
I cannot speak a word, I embraced him, wetting his shirt with tears

He embraced me back, telling me "Dear, I'm sorry
For now, I cannot grant your dream wedding
But this I promise you, on that day
I'll be at the mass, I'll be the one presiding"

I left the church with a smile
Thanking God for that closure
As I watched you from afar for a while
I told myself "Someday, I'll be happy for sure"
Cordelia Copson Mar 2016
like demeter, my mother wept when i fell in love
she saw me folding in on myself
and grasped my hands in her
and begged for me to come back to her.

i can't stop seeing girls falling in love
and never coming back from it
everywhere i turn they are dying
or killing each other

when i was thirteen my teacher
called me a femme fatale
and i saw the wide eyes of boys
following me around after

and i was looking at her.
the love stories were telling me
that i could never be loved back.
the love stories promised me pain.

but when i was younger i begged gerda,
to let kai go. stay in the garden.
let the roses lie. let him have his loss
please persephone, wait a little while
Next page