"viscously" poems
Humans are by nature
unappeasable no matter their behavior.
As a conformist
We threaten outsiders,
Yet long to be our own person.
And individuality is no better,
We long for acceptance of
The group we once called home.
That is the nature of humans,
We viscously treat
those that are not like us.
Its no wonder so few are happy
with such constant inner confliction.
Because the human mind is
a kingdom ruled by two fears,
Fear of the unknown,
And Fear of rejection.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
It's the first time we meet.
I can't get a read on that sweet summer smile, or the words that drip like thick robes of gold honey; soft-spoken and seemingly slow motion, a quite complicated question pours viscously from your lips.
You ask me, "What is your name?"
Now honestly, I considered honesty. Truthfully, I prefer anonymity, but it's considered rude to not share some glimpse of identity. Albeit reluctantly, I must decide: Do I introduce myself as "Chelsea"? Or as "A Window-Pane Made of Glass Too Thin"? Well honestly, honesty isn't always the best policy.
It's our first date -
Instead of worrying about which outfit I choose, I worry about the disclaimer I wear on my arms. I worry about the first time your gaze inevitably falls upon the self-inflicted displays of pain that dress my paper-thin skin. I worry, will you see a warning sign that reads "DANGER: Do not touch"? I wonder, will you listen?
Or will you choose to swallow me whole, a bitter pill with a list of flaws longer than the side effects of your favorite antidepressant. Do the benefits outweigh the risks, do you take a trial of me to see if I'll make you feel better or feel worse? Do you pour me down the drain when you find out I'm not good enough?
It's our first kiss -
A moment tainted by guilt that the sweet taste I leave behind on your lips is not saliva, but antifreeze. Drink me down and I'll poison you from the inside-out, and there will come a day that I'll be the taste you'd do anything to erase from your mouth.
It's our first fight -
And then our second, and our third...
The sand is slipping through our hourglass too fast, as we drag our blood-stained feet through a wasteland of eggshells and glass. All that remains is a crimson trail of mistakes, meandering back to the spotless place we started at.
It's the first time we meet, and
You ask me for my name. Silence.
Should I introduce myself as "Chelsea"? Or as "A Window-Pane Made of Glass Too Thin". If I'm being honest with myself, I go with the latter...and you'll walk away to avoid the mess that comes after.
Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 2:49 AM UTC
Easy dreams are counterfeit,
evidence of lost traces,
steps embossed in faith
like footprints in red snow.
Diluted memories,
viscously mixed with regrets.
Unctuous juice of unwound thoughts,
torturing my lonely brain.
Now transforming
unpleasant sights.
Becoming marvellous
dreams and hopes,
turning ache into utopia.
I'm alone in this emerald land,
locked in a plastic paradise,
singing my love's oneiric tune,
but I need to understand;
heaven is real,
only when shared...
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 1:27 AM UTC
That burn in the back of the throat isn't real.
It's an after effect. A side bar.
Psychosomatic. Problematic. Symptomatic.
Crippled in sentiment and misunderstanding.
Viscously bleeding from the mind in colors.
How lost to have gone and wandered there.
Clearly now in repose, there was no "them" to save at all.
Only him and his strangled mostly dying agreements with the sun.
That remain standing between the here and now in need of repair.
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 8:05 PM UTC
I’m so very sorry
that you had to fight
While I was here praying
for your safety at night
Two people so similar
the same DNA
Yet one had to leave
while the other could stay
I wish I could take on
the pain you went through
As the monsters inside you
so viscously grew
And therefore my brother
I want you to know
I’m sorry it was you
and not me who had to go
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 10:18 AM UTC
Monday night
Because weekdays make a woman ache
after a heart break
Strawberry sugar sugar
Caress me in all the warm and wet ways
(papillae)
viscously ****** strands
Broad shoulders Breathtaking Collar
Bones
Is what I’ll pick with you tomorrow
Because atleast a margarita hits the spot every time
Toss
mmmh
Darling don’t stop
Toss
Sticky pulp invigorates
Rejuvenates my taste buds
Fills my hunger
moan louder, ******* stranger
Toss
Deeper and Deeper into the papaya womb
Don’t stop! Don’t stop!
The mango the endocarp
Slurp it till it runs dry
Toss
Lap it up boy. We’re both famished
But only you know I’m the fruit piece
You’ll toss
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 12:39 PM UTC
SleEp)?
you,'re are an pale sweeping pliant loosely club
bashing softness
upon my cobbled unsplendid
ink
and smashing
viscously the poppies
stubborn lungs
dusted
imperfectly
arrogance
a you lovely supple fire
the opened closeness
of cotton treasure
fluttering
existential
motes
and the you
smell like razors cluttering
silverly
the knelling
harbor
of
my
soft hardness
and
you are a majesty .wholly
unalone
Oct 19, 2010
Oct 19, 2010 at 10:02 AM UTC
I once
Lost myself for you
Out on a limb reaching for you
Viscously fought for your attention
Expecting the worse hoping for the best
Didn't expect what you brought to the table
You walked right through me
Over my heart and through the forest you went
Used me like a love song
I once
Made you my all
I knew better
Shame on me
Shame on you
Everyone knew
Didn't see it coming
Yelling for closure
Outsmarted by your games
Utterly humiliated
I once
Forgot how to live
Evenings alone
Lusted for onces touch
Told myself never again
Alive in the midst of death
Living of the old memories
Inviting the reaper in for a cup
Victory wasn't an option anymore
Everlasting joy swallowed in darkness
Dec 27, 2011
Dec 27, 2011 at 5:02 AM UTC
she was a living kerosene
combustible, volatile,
deadly
and my words were
her fuse
the assault would flare when sunrise meets sunset
and thats when I usually loose track of time
because
clocks freeze
the minute hands
viscously crawling by
as if oiled by the kerosene
they're right when they say time's relative
but i inhale it anyways
all her toxic words
fumes of swears
smogs of taunts
all of which left behind
ugly,
black,
soot
tarnishing my soul
but i smile as the smoke fills my lungs
and gladly let her words burn me
because i know
I wouldn't have it any other
way
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 10:46 AM UTC
some harts through forests dappled lope
gentlest
keen feet
rumple leaves
scatter
or trees unspeaking sing
with the fat incurable
lust of sharp
lovers sore
hands
fingers
nuzzled
against
the fair muscles of arched
backs wriggling muscles
so sudored magic muscles
viscously
o'er
the pretty spines of
roots
splendor
splits and
out bursting
harts
through loping forests
lovers sorely
hurt with crisp intricate eyes
looking
lean raw eyes
wide into omnipotent pain
Dec 26, 2011
Dec 26, 2011 at 7:50 PM UTC
Sitting at her desk
The quill to the paper.
She wrote viscously,
As she was urged.
Drip,
Of blood fell from her nostril.
Every once in while
A high pitched shrill
Could be heard from the hall.
A small area of the window pane
Was not covered by drape.
Peering out, a porcelain girl
Was there.
Dancing.
In the sun, as if she was the leader
Of the orchestra.
Writing as she bled,
She glared through the minute hole,
Mesmerized by the movement.
--Freedom of body.
The blood poured now,
Like a stream.
Wiping it on her dark sleeve,
She continued;
Blurry-eyed now.
As the dancer leaped to her partner,
The pen-slave collapsed on the pad.
Her quill continued by her spirit,
and captured each detail of the dance.
May 7, 2012
May 7, 2012 at 11:09 PM UTC
When I eat I feel sick to my stomach. Don’t you love it? When you’re down and hurting, these “friends” just watch and sit.
But when they are in pain, you run to care. This isn’t fair. They see you crying but they don’t talk to you, they wouldnt dare... So these emotions attack you viscously just like a bear.
You’re heart is broken in a million pieces. They come into your life and take a a piece so your heart decreases... They complain about you not having a heart, so your anger releases.
You hide in your room silently crying... Inside, you feel like you’re dying. But outside, you don’t dare show the pain, so you start smiling.
These emotions you have are crazy. Inside, your mind is hazy. You have no motivation to do anything, they call you lazy.
You feel so alone. You feel unknown. Your depression is your chaperone. You feel like you’re on your own.
Now you’re drinking till you black out. Hoping your feelings will be shutout. Depression and anxiety is playing a game, there is no timeout.
You just want to end this pain. Your head is pounding, causing a migraine. You just want to be sane. So you start smoking the Mary Jane.
It doesn’t work. Now you’re acting like a **** To others that’s a quirk.
These voices won’t shut up. They callin you a **** up. Now you’re crying, in your throat is a lump.
You can’t hold it in. You feel like a sin. You try your best, but you can never win. Now you’re on your knees yelling, “when!?”
“When will I be happy!? Why do I always feel ****** Why am I a nobody!?”
You feel weak. Happiness is what you’re trying to seek. Tears are streaming down your cheek.
You can’t do this anymore. What is there to live for? You try to fight, it’s like a war.
A never ending war....
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 4:23 AM UTC
Revised facts retract the truth right back
A voice in the dark whispers your name
Tickling your torment again and again
A sting that is like a loving cursed' bee
Angel tell the tale you've always said so well
Blues music you bleed through the swaying reeds
Smiles you swill in your drink until
Last call is called and your heading out the door
Ain't sad to say that I was never gonna' stay
Was just the way I was built all I can say
Out there where roads rocks and rumors
Are the only thing I've felt I've ever known
Dying to de-mystify this twisted up world
Diving at the bottom of every ocean to find that pearl
1 am in an out skirt two dollar church
My heart without you dear is a bird less perch
So much pain in the twilight reeling midnight
All the night we said we loved and it's alright
Fear for the future fakes us out viscously
Know way to get back so don't act so seriously
Help me now pack my bags acquire my wears
Play with the time we spent together an' apart
I am the shadow behind the door hanging from your window
Please my darling when I'm gone try not to forget me
Jul 5, 2011
Jul 5, 2011 at 11:50 AM UTC
"I don't think I'm the girl for you" she said so casually, i'd never felt that before.
I cried. I didn't want you to know I was so hurt, and I didn't want to feel weak, so I played it down
You ripped yourself away from me so swift and viscously My body shivered with a soft sensual pain, like a cold ache
You found my weaknesses so quickly, I was starting to lose myself in you, you took control of my imagination, and I loved it. Thoughts of you were like the sweet taste of strawberries
I couldn't stop smiling, I fell for you. And you vanished
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 4:45 AM UTC
Below the grounds of your soil my seeds rested -
Breeding roots of grass and tulips up to your feet
Viscously you marched over my veins -
Plucking out every last bit of my tender stems
However, tender you were in the rain;
Covering my petals from the liquid stains
But it was never for the love of my seeds;
Rather for the mere satisfaction of gazing at my blood in a vase near your sunny window
Your ignorance called it beauty
Yet, from way under the soil here ..
I called it ******
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 7:59 PM UTC
Love is the worlds worst poison.The sweetest wine with the best kind of drunk. Even when you’re in love, it eats away at you. Slowly, secretly it claws at you from the inside, ripping out every fiber and replacing it with something else. Something unreal, like a drug that runs through your your veins with an amazing high, but as soon as the one you love leaves, so does the fabricated fiber. Then what? What happens after love? You are empty. All those strands that were created with them, the ones that miraculously stitched up every hole in your heart are torn. Plucked viscously from their comfortable state until you're no longer able to smile, or laugh whole heartedly. Every solid foundation that you relied on while with them, every memory that dried up your doubts are now as sturdy as wet paper and spoiled like cream. You know this is your fate if they leave, you know this the same moment you know you love them. You are nothing without them. So now you cling to your love. And your love clings to you. Destined to drown in a darkness if you let go.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 9:50 PM UTC
Someone whispers to him “calm your heart,” but the crimson streaked flesh that beats soft wet palpitations hastens his impatience to face what’s coming. He has no armor or weapon only the determination to do what is right.
Four chambers are thudding like the boots a coming. Men in black garbs marching with fully loaded chambers, clear plastic shields up, and black sticks ready to bludgeon. Their anger is oppositional to their opponent’s fog of fear, fatigue, and determination.
“Breath my child,” a gentle voice says. A sharp pain pierces on the back of his head. A thin line begins to ride down his neck. Someone yells “get down!”
One row of men raise their hands, eyes turned upward. The soft voice in his head says” be strong.”
Billows of grey smoke spew from a black canister. Strangers and familiars choke and gasp, eyes watering. Dreams of a bygone era play out in his mind. A tall thin brown sweaty woman smiles, moving down the road while singing we shall overcome. Dogs snap viscously at her compatriots. A fire pushes her siblings back with skin scraping pressure. A few of them fall, and couple falter in the struggle but most keep marching. Her brother, who is tall slightly bulky but wears the well-earned muscles of a man who labored hard all his life, clenches his fists, preparing to strike. She pulls him back. “Be strong, and gentle baby brother.”
They continue to sing “We shall overcome.”
In his mind the young man sees his mother smiling, saying “"Be calm, saith my heart. I am a warrior. I have seen far worse than this." He smiles through the pain stands up and chants “Hands up don’t shoot. Hands up don’t shoot.” Another brother rises behind him yelling “Black lives matter. Black lives matter.” A thin nerdy pale white guy cries we shall overcome, not in a singing tone, but it still rings beautifully. The struggle continues.
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 8:31 AM UTC
Intoxicated from the weight of euphoria,
Silence drips viscously into the soul
Until drowning is no longer a fear,
But an option.
Feet wet from nostalgia
Of ungraspable motions,
Time rests heavily on dewed eyelids...
The soul buries itself further.
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 8:57 PM UTC
Boys aren't everything
Bodies and ***** and butts and *****
And you're better than that you know
You're more than you give yourself credit for
And all that I see everyday is more and more of you searching viscously for this feeling of nothing
A nothing that makes you feel something
But does it?
“I don't want love”
“I don't want a nice boy”
“I don't want someone to cuddle me at night”
Well then what do you want
How can you feel fulfilled by the empty void of nothing
You can't!
And I know because you keep looking
Why would you keep looking if you weren't searching for something
So maybe you could stop searching for whatever it is you're trying to find
And start capturing the qualities within yourself that are too good for any one night stand
The beauty and brightness and bliss
Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 10:49 PM UTC
Shrugging she slumped down
It was one of 'those' days
Where things went wrong in a million ways
Changing her beautiful face into a frown.
Problems kept surfacing continuously
Answers kept eluding her
Frustration fuelling an ill-temper
Anyone daring to cross her was bitten viscously.
The throbbing vein on her forehead meant danger
Even her loved ones feared the scorn
She was like a poisoned thorn
The sweet loving girl was now a stranger.
She wondered why there was so much anger
Realization struck her that moment
Since morning she had not smiled with the right intent
The curved line was such a game changer!
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 3:06 AM UTC
Pain sang its tempting song across my waters again
Babylon
But I cant find it in me to move anymore
Unwillingly, the clock’s finger moves to its own accord
Following each tail end, endlessly
In a mocking game of sorts
Numbers eying me viscously
Telling me You Can’t Stop Me.
Ripping out the cord,
Shelf-shed, flying metal clock head-
Hit the wall and sank slowly
As time came undone, dead
And my own song-
Silently weeping, grasping my head-
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 1:12 PM UTC
I'm always searching for peace
Some sort of resolve to chapters
That never received a clear cut ending
Trying to finish writing a story that I didn't start
Viscously attempting to make sense of it all
Filling in the blanks with timid words
Guessing at how it was supposed to end
I want to be angry
I want to leave everyone behind
Go where no one knows my name
Where guilt and shame aren't forced on me
Find myself and move on like everyone else gets to do
I wonder what it's like to be able to breathe
To break apart from your past self
To find inner peace
I wonder what it's like to be loved by someone
With their whole heart
To be their first choice
I wonder what that looks like
To be loved with no expectations
Trusting someone so deeply
I wonder what it feels like to be held
By someone who could never imagine
Letting you get away
I wonder a lot of things
There's a shadow looming over
Breathing down my neck
It won't let me forget
It forces me to remember
I don't want to remember
I just want my story to end
May 6, 2021
May 6, 2021 at 4:07 AM UTC
The refugee,
literally dangling in agony between countries,
screams for help in surrender,
the poking barbed wire suspends his body,
penetrating flesh with the slightest motion,
and like vultures,
the border guards patiently gawk.
The refugee,
viscously battered from wave to wave,
the mother and child,
exasperate from blink to blink,
the relentless sea has boundless energy,
as cargo ships glide in the distance.
The refugee,
confined to detainment centres,
sweaty flesh crammed together,
imprisoned for deserting abuse,
as foul doers enjoy liberty.
The refugee,
seeks refuge,
from refuge.
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 4:42 AM UTC