Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Conor Wilson May 2013
I am a Cubic Zirconia.
On the outside, seemingly polished and sparkling.
But beneath the surface, flawed and jaded.
You saw me, thought me a Diamond in the rough.
You thought you could fix me.
I thought you could too.
We were both wrong.
And now here I am, worse than before,
And missing you terribly.
Deepak shodhan Jun 2015
Girl, are you belong to
De Beers Premier Mine
Come to me, I preserve you
and make you mine
My love is like
Champagne diamond
I've somany colors to put
all your worries behind
Let me be a Wittelsbach
in your crown
So that I can smooch your forhead
Let me be a White diamond
in your ring
So that I can kiss your fingers
I'm sure, being with is like staying
in a Cubic zirconia
My love is more denser;
I will never let you hurt
Girl, you are a Koh-I-Noor;
everyone fights for your beauty
and value..
But I'm Robin hood;
I always fight for your good!

----de3pak
Josh Jul 2014
A storefront window
A wax figure
that shed its oily fingers one
by one to feel closer to its
yellow core. Moving meant
melting, and melting meant
a puddle of desperate,
flesh colored wax
separated from the summer
encased behind a pane of glass
melting was not an option
so motionless it remained
with an elastic smile
and immaculate hair
greeting guest, upon guest
with false love and
glazed marble eyes
gleaming like cubic zirconia
sometimes I think
there might not be a tomorrow
so my time can't be wasted in any established institution.

whoops, there I go, wasting.  
whoops, there goes the future.

band together,weird brothers.

a half assed attempt from one of us equates to a hundred ten percent from one of the others.
but what difference would it make?
there's like, a hundred million of them &
only one of me.

we're already snuffed out by the numbers.

so we throw ourselves off track; it's some what hypocritical - but hey -
at least we're following our hearts
or whatever *****
we think is the most vital.

simple existence is the biggest shame.
for the love of god.
you'll rot if you stay for the spindle,
drilling yer spiel & teething on the tiers, stagnating in the famous cesspools of shalott.
settle in, ferment to liquidity.

Imma just watch yall
waiting for the day
your stocking feet curl up &
die beneath the mortgage,
leaving the zirconia slippers
of a dream seeing red.

be clean
be neat
be nice
be right
be alive
& smile
but not too much.

that's the tell to tell em
something's up,
the specimen are not disrupted
or adapting to challenge
of being ******
with these conditions.
they appear to be happy.


too happy.


something's missing.
"...The world is full of educated derelicts...." -Coolidge.
Illumine me Mayan moon
As your sisters the sparkly stars
Fall like flares in the sky afar
While I lay on the beach in Tulum

I bathe in your milky glow
Soaking softly straight into my marrow
Entranced by the things I might borrow
From the light as your whiteness grows

Leather capes flitter over my head
The bats starving swarm from their tomb
Some seaweed and sand for a bed
I give you my heart thorns to prune

Then I puzzle a piece of your birth
In the Rubik's cube universe
With my will I can pull you to Earth
And our blanket of black is dispersed

Illumine me Mayan moon
Like Zirconia facets that twinkle
By allowing our essence to mingle
And then crumble me all into ruin

Written by Sara Fielder © Dec 2013
Grey Davidson Jun 2014
I want to print letters on paper that bend to form the shape of your hips
with ink that fades to match the veins in your wrists;
sonnets to make the bard weep
and ****** queens put love before country.

You should be reminded every day
that when the light glints off your irises in bleary wakefulness
a morning glory trembles in envy;
that your skin is the perfect canvas for a masterpiece
simply because you absorb colour;
brightness;
life
with each step you take
and hold it in your pores for the world to gaze.

I want to taste cigarettes on your tongue one day
and cool mint the next;
on the third you can hold me in place
and remind me what it’s like to be grounded,
then ******* away when you breathe laughter on my neck.

I want to feel your flighty touch
between the blades of my shoulders
and know your fear and courage
as you mend my splintered glass vertebrae.

I could give you mined stars,
but they’d only dim in the presence of your heart
(but let’s face it; I can only afford zirconia).
Instead I will give you islands of the purest sand
and the clearest waters,
where you can stand on hope without fear of falling
and forget the flavour of defeat;
mountains to climb when determination to achieve
finally prevails over the comfort of your shell;
libraries that solve all your dilemmas
yet leave you asking more questions than when you entered.

I will give you the world, for you have given mine.
Amber S Feb 2014
"you are my princess,
but i’ll ******* like a *****”
you never did either. i was granted no jewels,
no sapphires, no rubies, not even zirconia
to match this forgery of skin.
my neck felt too small in your tired fingers,
and too many times i waited.
(snap, break, snap)
too tired to throw me down,
awake enough to bruise my blood
vessels.

"you are my princess"
i felt more like the penniless ******,
breathing in vapors while my smudged eyes
twitched and itched.
i would arrive at your doorstep, salivating,
and you never even had a bone to
throw.

"i’ll ******* like a *****"
i wanted your chunks like maggots crave
the panting dead,
i wanted your intestines wrapped with my
intestines, your lungs breathing in my
lungs, every centimeter of your veins
grinding and sweating against my veins.

"you suffocated me"

you had the world at your feet,
and you couldn’t even take one
step.
Pigeon Apr 2017
Step right up and buy some dreams
He's got tattooed arms and he'll propose to you with cubic zirconia rings, promises of hearts warmed and shiny things
Beware of what the future brings, he'll spread your broken wings and let you fall
Right into a pit of tar and feathers
You'll think you belong together
But he's a trainwreck clad in ink and leather
And he'll sever the tethers and let you go it alone, ignore your pleas for affection but his spell is like an infection- it won't go away unless treated with equal aggression
What's his motive? Why break all these hearts, why ***** out girls like spent candles
I don't think he even knows how to handle himself
But one things for sure- this boy sells dreams, don't you buy them.
I still want him back
Perig3e Mar 2012
You,
with your pyrite tooth
and zirconia lobes,
those decades of *******
native vitality
for made in asia
Trinketronics!
Lynn Hamilton Jul 2016
Hard
Cold
And
Plastic

It
Satisfies

So do
Tears
Behind
Eyes

Pleasure
Crashes
Like
A
Wave

Mixed
With
An
Oil
Slick

Tears
Migrate

Resting
Waiting
In
Lobe
Peicered
Holes

Replacing
Diamonds
Sold

In the
Recovery
Position
Placed

For a
Life of
Cubic
Zirconia

Tears
Hard  

Solid
Cold

Plastic
Waves
g clair Sep 2013
Jerry said today he wants to stay with you
well you can't believe what comes out of his mouth
Jerry doesn't know which way his head is to
more than likely Jerry's head is pointing south.

Jerry said someday he's gonna marry you
but he hesitates to take you on a date
Jerry says no movies that he wants to see
and diner food you get is not that great.

Jerry says
Jerry says
I don't care what Jerry says
Jerry is
what he does
if you listen to the buzz
Jerry has
been a spaz
though he's cute and all that jazz
let's see Honey put his money where his mouth is.

Jerry said he's saving for his future
and likes to hear you're saving for yourself
and though your father wouldn't say Jerry's a moocher
he's watching Jerry's actions for himself.

Jerry said tonight he's working overtime
and he won't coming home, so go to bed
Jerry says you'd better pull your weight, my dear
or expect Cubic Zirconia instead.

Jerry says
Jerry says
I don't care what Jerry says
Jerry is
what he does
if you listen to the buzz
Jerry has
been a spaz
though he's cute and all that jazz
let's see Honey put his money where his mouth is
ScaR SavagE Sep 2018
They say there's no place like home,
Tis True,

There is no way to describe what the displacement of Homelessness has done to me,
To my husband, to my kid,

It has taken his life,
One drink at a time,
It has stripped our daughter of security,
And has eaten away at my confidence,

The anguish is dense,
Between packing & couch hopping,
I've realized I own NOTHING.

EVERYTHING is DISPOSABLE,
I'm posable,
At the mercy of hands that feed,

Do you KNOW the toll it takes from me?

To go from being independent, proud of all I've worked so hard to own,
To hiding hunger pains so she can eat,
Never sleep, watch my surroundings incase we gotta up and leave,

From having a place of my own,
To call home....
To bird baths in gas stations, and sleeping in the cool air under the stars,

The buzz of traffic and drug addicts all of a SUDDEN become a lullaby,
Your home is kosher,
But out here it's a warzone filled with gangs and crooks,

You think you know the dark AND lived hard,
But can you keep a Stone face when your children question Why are we going thru this?

People pass by,
Glare with their eyes,
Make superficial judgements,
But I was once a nurse and legal aid a stable staple in society,

You turn your nose up, talk **** and snicker,
But let me ask you who's the bigger winner?
It's ME.
*** what you lack in conscienceness I make up with a heart that don't stop,

Its cracked and bloated,
It's bled and skipped beats,
But it's STILL worth more than the bucks you proudly came  with,

My hardships and trials built this great Wall of iron,
I'll burn like wildfire if you ever think that you can hold my head down,

But there's nothing like home,
I'm BROKE it don't show,
And no one will ever know,
Don't judge a book by its cover,
Read the last page and think you know the struggle,

Take a step back view the entire picture,
Crack the spine and begin to read thru,
What you don't know it way surprise you,
You were going thru cubic zirconia's,
**** you might find a DIAMOND.
Emily B Mar 2016
She’s not as genuine as cubic zirconia

or Christmas tree tinsel.

Her life may be one large web

littered with duty and lies.

But she smiles convincingly

and attends to the avoidable

and carries herself

as if all is well under the fragile façade.

Don’t ask her for honesty.

She could no more move the moon

than she could tell you the thing

you wouldn’t want to hear.

Don't think she doesn't grieve

when someone pulls at the scab of her reality.

There are, after all,

two sides to every story.

And if she wants to be a chameleon

in a changing, scary world
shouldn't we pretend like we can't see?
Me Hgrub Apr 2017
There's a pain in my chest.
I can't shake it.
I must share it.
Because, believe it or not,
everyone likes to hurt a little.

Once I was nothing
but blood
and bones
and guts.
There I am!
See me?
My insides smashed on the pavement
like a squirrel
crushed by your recklessness.

Your ego
it shines brighter than ever.
A gleaming zirconia necklace
"ON SALE FOR JUST 10.99!!"
Go ahead, dull it some
before it turns a neck green.
Bottoms up!
The phone glued to your hand
while there I rot
picked at by birds and stray dogs.

I carry this pain with pride.
I wear it like a conference name tag.
"Hello, my name is
ROADKILL"

Why wouldn't I?
Someone will scrape my bones
off the blacktop
and wear them as jewelry.
My body, my words,
will be their name tag.
Because some can display pain
with pride.
And corpses
feed the soil.

Bloom on.
Erianna Hill Dec 2014
I'm piecing a puzzle, but i cant seem to finish it.
I mean, its finished, but its not;
its all there, yet something's missing;
like, the correct complete puzzle, but somehow the pieces don't fit.

So I fix it,
at least I think I do.
Rearrange some, replace some;
finished? No, not quite.
Now that I look at it, its worse...
Can I fix this? Of course I can.

So I do.
This time its perfect.
All the pieces fit, its wonderful, finally finished!
but of course I'm wrong, looks can be deceiving.
What appears to be a finished, perfect, model of a puzzle,
is in reality a forced fit.
Simply gold plated, or cubic zirconia if you will.

Maybe I can't fix this.
Marc Hawkins Sep 2017
Everything that follows
Is determined by the past,
Futures un-commissioned
Not designed yet cast,
A distance diminished
That once was vast,
Aspirations unfinished
From the first to the last.

Lovers in the midst
A new kind of sense,
Never faked or hidden
Within secret pretence,
Ne’er refused or forbidden
Or there to condense,
Rigid as oak
With  power immense.

A love then discovered
With truth, given free,
Unabashed and unhidden
For who cares to see,
Horizons and futures
Imagined and believed,
Zirconia stones given
In the search for eternity.

A time of wondrous spirit,
A time of young innocence
When flowers then growing
Combined indiscernible scents.
Torn from root by rough hewn hands
As drama’s conflict appeared in essence.
And there, in the dim light of the dance hall,
Her scent leaves a vague, unattainable presence.

Time passes
And takes it’s course,
Unknowingly directed
From unforgotten source
From where lives intertwined,
Then untangled and forked,
The bright sun giving way
As a bitter rain poured

A mile extends into miles
And the years roll blindly on
Offering maps of nostalgia
Of an era now gone,
But one that remains,
By will or by none,
Within the structures we made
To hang our souls upon.

Copyright Marc Hawkins 2017
Arek Sep 2021
A diamond is forever
but Cubic Zirconia gives me the time that I need
Bryce Jan 2018
With beaten sails we take to a south wind,
Letting lifted air carry our hearts
Towards something closer to love.

Rose petals fall from ivy-covered walls
Her smile shines like Sirius
I can’t help but smile back
The gravitationality of it all

We can get ****** and drive thru a Krispy Crème
Glazed doughnuts in our eyes and maybe laugh for the first time in ever
I cannot tell how long that’s been

The days get shorter and the leaves fall like soldiers
Sky hums cobalt in a winter coat,
There will come a time where I will call and you won’t answer

Was einst war, ist nun tot

I keep pulling from the green days and you stare
starry eyed at
Cubic Zirconia on Sunset Boulevard
As we bid bon voyage
Drifting Kuiper belt objects
Parsecs away.

The pulp turns to mush in spring and pigs feast on the ****
I have to get away or get swallowed by swords
You tell me it’s the only way
I smell burnt treads

Your sweat lingers on the nose differently
And your face turns in anger
I’m too tired to try and talk anything out of it.

A toad flops through the backyard mud
And I think of a time when this was swampland
And getting to work meant
Bringing a machete
To dice your way through old paper trails.

It’s okay.
The road is meant for old shoes
And high heels have no tact on gravel.
I will break the rubber under my footfalls
searching for it.

— The End —