Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Scarlett Aug 2018
my clumsy limbs
                           held together with wet cement
              taught rubber bands
                         struggle to bind my flesh

I am but a mess of unimportant matter
another aimless being to fill the space    
unique for my twisted thoughts  
hysterically pleading with a calm face                    

speaking warped words i do not mean
         lips sealed like the lid on my boiling ***
                      dumping oppressed feeling into its contents
                                     bubbling over sweetly burning my raw skin hot

blistered I hide behind my cotton disguise
my misshapen body covered in a gruesome sweat                    
     sickening wounds throb for the sight of others                          
witness my plague of dry sobs and cigarettes                        

and so i shriek silently like my sister and father
hold my tongue saturated with sour emotion
my poorly constructed moth-eaten being
self sabotages in a desperate motion
the oppression of a disheveled being in hopes of better presentation of self for others
Jordan Rowan Jun 2016
She came down from a mountain
Higher than the valley she's been in
She broke down like an engine
On a highway towards forever once again

She says "I don't know where my life is going", but
Baby, nobody knows
Just take a breath and do what you've been doing
True angels wear everyday clothes

She lives inside the mind of a mercenary
Staring down the barrel of a gun
She's tired of the weight they ask her to carry
And her back has been broken for so long

There's choirs that will sing of her memory
Like a fallen queen with silver in her hair
As the flowers bloom and God starts descending
To touch her hand and take her anywhere

She says "I don't know where my life is going, but
Baby, nobody knows
Just take a breath and do what you've been doing
True angels wear everyday clothes
Doing a dance,
to wear a mask,
To play a game that you can’t stomach...
Just so that the truth doesn’t have to face you,
The way you recoil from reflections of yourself.

You’d forsake your happiness, your health —
                                                  You would burn it all.

To do a dance, to wear a mask
To play a game you’ll always lose.
                                                  To look in a mirror...
             To tell an image that it’s anything but you.

But it's in that moment, that you'll find
                                you tell the unfamiliar truth
As you bleed and feed your own obliterated youth...

To feel, and then
                          to lose —
Just like the loss you always knew
                          you’d find in disappointment.
Like an unholy anointment
                          of your least desirable possessions
That retire from the heavens
                          Back to you.


To betray, and to amuse
                                                          A­lone.
The ides of irony rejoice!
               For they’ve found their lamb... or
their ever-dying muse.
                 Forsaking life itself, you clamor
To see others just like you.

And maybe, one day, one will choose
           the path that you can’t leave,
As it reciprocates to thee —
            Two partners in misery, fated to excuse
the waste of each other...
            until they find there’s nothing left.

To feel the flame within its breath consumed.

Wearing a mask,
To live a lie,
                And die a death,
                Whose dance you six-times misstep


                              And on the seventh, betrays you.

Klaus Dec 2018
Now I know,
This is the first time we've
                  spoke.
But, I wanna be you.
I wanna wear your skin as a
                  cloak.
In your ambiance, I will
                  soak
And when they speak my name, i'll say who?

I wanna wear your clothes as
                    mine.
I want to live your life.
I want your receding
                    hairline.
I want your growing
                    waistline.
I want to love your wife.

9-5, I'd work your
                job.
I'd love your bratty son.
In the suburbs, a faceless
               blob.
I wouldn't  be an upturned
               slob.
And when I'd sit in your car or your study, I wouldn't think of a noose nor a gun.
For my father.
September Rose May 2018
We are tied together by our stories, our history
Tales woven through our ancestry, when our parents talk of their younger days
When their life was ahead of them, the future was anything and everything, they speak of their old friends with ache in their soul
Of times when their hearts were filled with fire and passion, running through fields growing memories  planted by the world around them
When they could sprint the wind in their hair, adventure ahead, hope in their heart.
They speak of the days behind with woe
Because essentially just their ideas of the future as a young mind, was more exciting than reality.
As dreams failed and hope faded
As their minds wear and their treasured stories that made them who they are fog over
As threads begin to wear
As tales they once yelled to the world with pride frays at the details
Your whole world slipping away as the thread unwinds
But they get the joy of passing down the tapestry to their pride and joy, to the life they made, every one of us
Every moment we live with ease of no appreciation for every experience every laugh
Moments we take for granted
Moments we will pine for when they run out
Moments the elderly urge us with fire to be aware of the importance of
Moments we'll wish we listened to them about
There is a vast tapestry of memories behind you and infinite thread panning out in front of you, connecting to other tapestries, visiting at friends, at enemies, joining with soul-mates future, some cut away, some ripped from the tapestries to soon before they could weave their own
A loose thread cannot be fixed once more are made, and the patterns will never be what you want them to be, savour each stitch
Take time on every thread
You don't want to be sitting there 50 years old thinking about the life you wasted
About the memories faded
About how every slipping memories never like the moment you made it
Don't be sitting 90 filled with regret
Filled with hatred for every opportunity you left
Screaming into the voice about how much you hate what your life become.

because they say time flys when your having fun truth is time only flies when you're young.
Deb Jones Dec 2018
I have had multiple partners
All had flaws
None were insurmountable
And that was alright

I wore many masks
As I stepped into their worlds
I was what they needed me to be
And that was alright

I thought I would find “the one”
I could have stayed and loved
Any one of them
And that was alright

I never bared my soul to a man
First because they wouldn’t understand me
Second because I didn’t want them to know me that deeply
And that was alright

Honestly, I felt more like myself
When I was wearing a mask
For them
And after all these years
It’s still alright

I have made memories that will make men still smile decades from now. That is what my heart wants. Those smiles.

In this world perfection doesn’t exist.
We can love a person for the rest of our lives.
Multiple people at once even.
I never had a “Bad Breakup”
I love them all still.

Don’t wait for perfection. You would be bored. You agree on everything? Check
You make love with spontaneity? Check
You are a united front to your kids? Check
You are each other’s best friend? Check

And if denying any one of those things makes you question your entire being?

Stop doing that! Just stop doing that to yourself!
You are just fine.

Think if you will like this person in your living room 25-45 years from now.
Close your eyes and imagine it.


Take this scenario, and forgive me for using it too.

As a woman
You are served a light breakfast in bed
Fruit, toast points already buttered, coffee or tea made just the way you like.
Along with a small vase with a single flower. All laid out on the same tray.
Every morning for the rest of your life.
The exact same thing
You are delighted at the gesture. It’s love personified.
Except...you didn’t ask for it, don’t want it every morning, feel mentally pressured to sound thankful and gracious after a while.

And the man that is bringing this token of love? It becomes his “thing”
After a while it becomes a duty to him. A resentment.

Again please don’t think we, as women, don’t appreciate the gesture. We do.

But loving, spontaneous gestures are better. So much better.

Hand me a rock.
That you think is pretty.
A small piece of driftwood you think I would like the shape of.
Remember if I like horseradish in a ****** Mary.
Stock my favorite drink.
Keep bottled water cold for me
These things have great meaning to me.

Reality is you will like your personal space. Especially when the relationship has stabilized.
That is when you find the best mate for you

But you have to go meet and be with other soulmates during your journey. And part as loving friends.
Soulmates can be same ***.
For women and men

My motto is and forever will be
“Cause the least harm”

And that is alright.

The most important lesson I learned was that the masks we wear for others is just a side of us. The real us
Nekron Nov 2018
How alone I feel without you
How quickly Id concede
To touch
Warmth willing
What wishing
Wear me
Like a shoal
Crush my trachea  
With your feet
Oh the people you’ll meet

How alone I feel without you
How quickly I’d concede
To touch
Warmth willing
What wishing
Wring me
Out
I’m your song bird
Dead in defeat
Oh the people you’ll meet
This is mostly a collection of poems I’d never share to anyone. Sorry for the imagery. They ought to be read by someone.
Diana Nov 2018
Nothing
Is more ****
Than a Confident Woman
That knows her worth
And what she rightfully deserves
Not because of anything superficial
But because of everything inside her
That's original
It's not something literal; it's more figurative. A woman can wear her confidence in knowing what she's worth and what she honestly deserves with high standards and nothing else because she herself is precious.
Rui Rosa Nov 2018
There are those who wear masks to hide,
Those who wear masks to show us what they stand for,
to inspire,
to unite,
to define,
to strike fear,
There are those who wear masks to protect themselves.
And there are those who wear masks to protect us all.
Which mask you wear?
ryn Nov 2014
I've stared...
Longingly forever into you
You'd stare back but you never really knew
Hands of hours, minutes and seconds I've shook
All the time I've carelessly took

I've witnessed...
That etched on each one, that amazing smile
A crutch forged of sunrays that had carried me many a mile
It's all that I have to know of you
In this endless chase I've sought to pursue

I've envisioned...
Different ways you'd wear your crown
Various trimmings on lavish gowns
Smitten by the way you sport your paint
The nectarous song sung in your gait ever so faint

I've imagined...
The addictive rise and fall of your every breath
Bringing me back to life after every death
Pulses of sweet nothings that never did ebb
Ensnaring my heart with your silk spun web

I've believed...
You are the queen of my future tale untold
I've felt it so real like verses written in bold
But I've awakened from slumber into terrifying reality
Pains me to realise that you're nothing but
imaginary*...
Ivo Yankulovski May 2014
A word is there for your expression.
Is it time for your confession?

The night is dark and full of horrors.
I wear my mark to seek my honors.

No one sees the divine in me.
All is dead and waits for me.

Gods regret about the light.
I will vanish from your sight.

A Dream exalts upwards this world.
The others lead us mostly swirled.

True words wind off my mind.
I will never leave you blind.

A code is there for me to find.
Deeply hidden and always undefined.

Everything appears one of its behind.
But shatters your illusions once combined.

Stand up and break this truth in parts.
Create a world made of arts.

No one brings the pain aside.
You better take it as your bride.

There is no second paradise.
Drop your eyes and do this sacrifice.
King Panda Jan 2016
I may have gotten into the
stupidest argument of my life

it was about men painting their
nails
yes
men painting their nails

I want to paint my nails a
deep burgundy
because
well
I feel like I really don’t need
a reason

she said
it would turn my nails
yellow

I said
I don’t give a
****

she said
men don’t wear
nail polish

I said
I don’t give a
****

she said
she didn’t have any
nail polish

I said
*******
I’ll go buy my own
then

when I walked
to the front door
with my car keys
she stamped her
feet and said
FINE!

and she walked upstairs
to her bathroom
where she kept all the
polish
Alyssa Underwood Jul 2016
He sat by a furnace of seven-fold heat,
As He watched by the precious ore.
And closer He bent with a searching gaze,
As He heated it more and more.

He knew He had ore that could stand the test
And He wanted the finest gold,
To mold as a crown, for the king to wear,
Set with gems of price untold.

So He laid our gold in the burning fire,
Tho’ we fain would say Him "nay."
And watched the dross that we had not seen
As it melted and passed away.

And the gold grew brighter and yet more bright,
But our eyes were dim with tears,
We saw but the fire, not the Master’s hand,
And questioned with anxious fears.

Yet our gold shone out with a richer glow
As it mirrored a form above,
That bent o’er the fire, though unseen by us
With a look of ineffable love.

Can we think it pleases His loving heart
To cause us a moment's pain?
Ah, no! But He sees through the present cross
The bliss of eternal gain.

So He waited there with a watchful eye,
With a love that is strong and sure.
And His gold did not suffer a bit more heat
Than was needed to make it pure.

~ A.F. Ingler
~~~
nadine Jan 2018
my ears refuse to hear, and my mind refuses to believe such:
"a woman should not-!"
"a woman cannot-!"
"a woman shall never-!"
"no woman is better than-!"
horrendous words from irrational people.

a woman can sit however she wants to - crossed legs or like how men do,
a woman can wear whatever she wants to - size, length, style don't define her; the woman herself is the beautiful view,
a woman can drink, smoke, cuss, and can say no to whoever - you may be on level two, but she is too,
a woman has the every right to be treated like a human,
a woman has the every right to go beyond the four walls,
a woman has the every right to cross the limiting borders,
because we are the women,
we are more than the color red; more than our crimson red cheeks; our bright red lips; our vaginas; our period; our polished nails.
we are fierce as the orange fire, bright as the yellow sun, wild as the forest greens, beautiful as the blue reefs, and got purple hues in our skin.
we are rainbows more than just its beautiful colors -
the rainbows you sometimes fail to appreciate -
women are the rainbows that will never raise the white flag.
women are THE ****.
all the love
Troy Jul 2018
I see this beautiful mask that you wear.
and I see your fear of letting someone in...
I see such strength in you..
The tenderness in your eyes.
The kindness in your soft kiss...
I see the deeper beauty in you ....

I see every curve on your beautiful face.
I see where your teardrops filled with love and pain fall from your cheeks ....

the Gentle curves that guide some tears to your lips...
I see where every Tear helped make you this beautiful person you are..

I see you when you smile...

I see the kindness and love behind your smile ...
I feel the kindness and love in your gentle soft touch so soft..

I see through your beautiful blue eyes
I see through the mask you use to hide behind...
And Cheryl Percey I see the woman in front of me ..

I see what others have failed to see..

My eyes are wide open and

I see clearly the beauty in front of me...
HaleyBoo Dec 2018
The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do?

It wasn’t letting you go.

That was difficult though, to swallow my pride and wear a smile to hide the fact I’m not okay.

Oh no, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? Was finally admit to myself the truth.

It was admitting that you were never mine to begin with.
Next page