"tris" poems
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.
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 8:25 AM UTC
My protector,
(although I don't think I need protecting)
My rock,
My soul,
is you.
P.S. I love your kiss ;)
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
I called and called,
Yet he still fought,
Threw me to the side and stepped on top,
Punched my nose, and made me bleed,
Come back, it's me was all i said.
I pointed the gun at him,
But I couldn't pull the trigger,
So I pointed it at my forehead and fell,
He knelled down and held it, steady.
There was nothing in his eyes,
Nothing but blankness,
I held his head in my hands,
Come Back, it's just me, I said.
It's just me, I repeated,
His hand on the trigger
**** me now, I said,
Then he looked away.
Look at me, I called,
And finally a soft Tris escaped his mouth,
I relaxed,
He was back,
He pulled away the gun from my head slowly,
Then he turned around and faced the enemy.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 6:31 AM UTC
**** Romeo and Juliet
***** Kat and Peeta as well
I don't care about Tris and Four
Hazel and Gus can go to hell.
I don't want to be your Juliet
Don't be my Romeo, I beg of you
If you can be my Okabe
For you I'll be Kurisu
Or maybe I'll be Winry
And you can be my Ed
Not that shiny fairy
The Alchemist, I meant.
See Okabe-Kurisu
And Winry-Elric too
They have a love that's strongest
And one I want with you.
**** Romeo and Juliet
I really can't stand Gus
Tris is a just a little *****
And so I hate them thus.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC
Beatrice,
Dauntless,
Tris,
Selfless,
Smart,
Prior,
Fighter,
Saviour,
Lover,
A girl with one dream.
To find the truth.
Candor.
A girl who gives homage to those who need it.
Amity.
Beatrice,
Tris,
Prior.
Abnegation,
Dauntless,
Erudite,
Amity,
Candor.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 1:07 PM UTC
Movies are my passion, the thing I love to do, the thing I enjoy to an extent. People ask me why I am wasting my time sinking into the ineffective fantasy world of the movies instead of enjoying the dignified life of reality. Not many people understand my undying affection for this compelling activity of entertainment. What they do not know is that the real world isn’t actually the real deal. It is a test, an absorbing guidance into the perfect afterlife or the anguishing heartbreak into the tormenting hell. It is their choice which one they choose. It is like the reality of realities in the movie of The Matrix or the corruption and sadness of the desolation of The Titanic. It may be the realness of Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss Everdeen distressingly fighting for her life or the adventures of Shailene Woodley as Tris, loosing loved ones on her way. It could be the fans in the movies, screaming upon their idols or the hatred in the jealous, briskly spreading through the town. The inspiration is overwhelming and the education comes from the films, not from the institution they call school. The alive are in the fantasy and the real are in reality. They don’t understand the goodness that has not been seen in the life they call real.
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 2:06 AM UTC
Cinderella did not teach me stand up against the wrong.
She did not teach me to be strong.
Katniss Everdeen did.
Aurora did not teach me that I don't need a man.
She did not teach me I am independent just as I am.
Cleopatra did.
Snow white did not teach me that real beauty has nothing to do with physical appearance.
She didn't teach me self love or acceptance.
Winnie Harlow did.
Ariel did not teach me to resist and fight.
She didn't teach me to raise my voice for what is right.
Malala did.
Ashley Graham gave me confidence.
Michelle Obama gave me inspiration.
Tris Prior taught me sacrifice.
Hermoine Granger showed me it's not only boys who can fight.
Nikita Gill taught me I am enough even without a man.
Joan of Arc showed me I can do anything he can.
Let's read to our girls stories of such badass, incredible, fierce and confident women.
Instead of stories where they are painted weak and can't do without men.
Let us teach them that they are powerful, they are strong.
And anyone who tells them different is wrong.
Let's read them stories of brave, heroic women instead of ones where they are shown weak and helpless.
Let's teach them to be warriors and not some princess.
Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 7:08 AM UTC
Tris
Unconsciously
The name
That
Tris
Let me remember you
At times I don't want to the most
Clearly
The blurry image of
Parking lot
Motorcycles and cigarettes
Dim light
I saw a star or two or three or
Four
Let me remember you
At times I don't want to the most
Poetry reading
The emotions, the voice, oh, tempo
The tap of the right foot
The wide smile that supposed to hurt
Disability in the arts
Cry it out! Cry it out!
She cried on the train
And had an old man told her
It will be okay
O, how jealous I am
I had to wander on the blurry forest
Of motorcycles and cigarettes
With dim light and foreign faces
I couldn't not care about how I looked
But
Blank mind --- Hollowed self ---
I have had the soul fly to search for you
A minute was enough and a part of me died
She saw the tears and the halved smile
And she completed it
With or without
What could it do for good?
Let me remember you
At times I don't want to the most
Do you remember that song?
You said it was my favorite which
I couldn't sleep without listening to it ---
That evening I wanted to
Be in your eyes
And this theatrical pain
Is killing me
Slaughtering me like a goat
O, those special effects! Brava!
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 3:55 AM UTC
Book Thief taught me why painting is better than burning (books.)
Hamlet gave me a glimpse of grief, cutting the heart of tragedy with his poisoned rapier, where beads of things red and desperately human trickle forth. He helped me realize my dream of being king- king of nutshells and withered violet petals.
Tris reminds me of myself, and Gatsby, too.
Keegan’s car and Browne’s poems awkwardly sit in the corner; I see them as I walk back and forth down the halls, too busy to pick them up. My mind palace is a hoarder’s nest.
They make me, I paint them over, thick and
bubbly with memories.
Layers upon
layers, now a
sculpture.
What’s me and what’s not?
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 2:49 AM UTC
A new message from him
I left all I was doing and opened the message
There it was
Sorry I can't do this
I felt my heart pause
The strongest of headaches
My eyes were filled with tears
All my brain, my mind and my mouth could say was NO
No this isn't happening
No this isn't real like Tris from divergent would say
But yes it was real
We were done
How
What went wrong
I cried like an infant
I cried cause my heart was shattered
I cried cause I didn't expect this in two years time
We were beautiful
We matched perfectly
He made me feel special
He made me smile sheepishly at my phone always
What went wrong
Who did I offend
Why does it have to end.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 6:22 AM UTC