I Write Poetry PINNEDTo the world you were a weed, Their looks so bitter sour, Yet my heart saw something more, A forever sweet and wild flower, To the world you were a worm, Hanging from threads set to break, Yet I knew that you would fly, A butterfly that's yet to... See More »
I Write Poetry PINNEDAnd all at once, it happened, just like that. No great spectacle, no cliche or overly grandiose moment. As instant as a candle being blown out. As quiet as a whisper. His own poetic travesty. And almost as if not wishing to be pretentious, it went... See More »
We don't care about the titles, we care about the contentsReality (or more accurately the memory of it) is like a photograph,. The button clicks, The shutter closes. The light is pinned. And the image is etched. captured. Done. You own it (or at least that's the idea/hope). That glinting afternoon,... See More »
What we leave behind.I wonder and wander, through thoughts bleak and somber, As another grave is filled, Despite my heart still beating, The reapers entreating, That my life on this paper i spill. Rank and review repeatly, Rewound memories completely, My existence... See More »
i suck at titlesI tell myself the night is kind, but daylight breaks the lie, the truth I hide behind my smile, burns me out from the inside. I walk a road that splits apart, each turn a consequence, my heart pulls hard against my head, clashing thrashing... See More »
tiny nothing poemmy mind is wild, thought beguiled, spirit a loving feral rage, a twisted soul, poems apropos, heart bound in his ribbed cage.
Soft sharp lies and hard truthsAllow me to tell you of someone, in a nutshell, it's about a girl. If this were a normal poem I'd talk about her features, her eyes, her hair, her laugh, her skin, etc But lucky for me and the rest of the world she's no ordinary girl, thus this poem... See More »
shambling souls, rambling proseAs organic robots we're left to wander, veins pulsing with whiskey vices and the acrid smoke of self destruction, we carry a sort of unquenchable and melancholy thirst for meaning. Ravenous Poets, desperate for magic, hungry for divinity, we call... See More »
Tidbits and scraps, old notes on my phone"I think i might be claustrophobic, that's why I'm so bad at setting boundaries" "It's probably my fault; their broken promises, i guess i held too tight" "my heart is a piñata, i smashed it open in hopes to prove to them i had something in me... See More »
i suck at titlesi am my own worst enemy, the most vile judge and critic, so tired and numb, and jaded, i’m a twisted hopeless cynic, a cracked mirror spitting venom, reflecting scars no one can see, i chew on dreams like broken glass, and choke on what’s left of... See More »
a poem for the queenblessed be the darkened path, that you take through the the wild woods, a tree filled church for those alone, and a haven for those misunderstood.
Bruises stayThe shadows cast an eerie glow, Upon a heart now cloaked in woe, through whispered vows a love did play, But unlike you, the bruises stay. In dreams we danced, a tender game, Yet now, alone, I bear the blame. Each tear that falls, a silent fray, But... See More »
a mess or poetry? Poll (7) See Poll OptionsExperiences worm their way into the damages I accumulate in life, where they fester, taking root in the cracks of my being. Like grains of sand... See More »
I'm the title i cant think ofI'm the stone that won't skip, The bud that can't bloom, The caterpillar trapped, In an inescapable cocoon, The puzzle piece that can't fit, The fire that won't burn, Mistake after mistake, Lessons I'm unable to learn, The seed that won't grow, The... See More »
Input titleThere's always so much going on in my head, yet for the past few years I haven't been able to truly grasp or express it. As if the ruins of my mind are overrun by the scattered and fragmented remnants of my past, and any time I turn on a light to... See More »
Briar heartsThe fragile frail breaks of hearts, like leaves on autumn ground, A stillness to the silence, when they cease to beat or pound, The little brittle hearts, that grew from teary brine, Holding pains within their roots, that bleed out to the vine,... See More »
Time is an artist.It paints smiles upon our faces, Embroiders memories in our mind, Stitches scars upon our skins, Often cruel and seldom kind, Endless greed abound, It gives less than it takes, It's hunger never saited, It mends less than it breaks, Smiles wash away,... See More »
KaleidoscopeBroken hearts and promises, Pain and scars abound, Akin to colored leaves, Scattered upon the autumn ground, Healing will slowly happen, For each piece in our collection, As we arrange them into a mosaic, Made of poetic retrospection.
Echoes of silenceLights abound, Ageless time, Shadows crawl, The endless climb, A calling out, To unknown names, Matching souls, Engulfed in flames, A spirit awoken, It snaps and snarls, Broken hearts still beat, Despite knots and gnarls, Strength... See More »
Life of a lemonI sit in the solitude of my mind and ponder, trying to decipher the pangs of my heart. Where does such resistance stem from? I feel as though I'm a charlatan, people offer their generous gifts of love and grace, and no matter the circumstance i... See More »
Emotions weighedlights wane, echoes fade, truth reveals, the fools charade, promises broken, edges frayed, time steals away, memories made, everyone left, yet emptiness stayed, faking smiles, souls afraid, another effigy, in the masquerade, dreams forgot, hope... See More »
spilled ink and broken spineI use to be an open book, so happy to be read, able to share my stories, and the contents of my head, a gleeful tome was i, people coming, people going, sharing the essence of my soul, with each new visit my stories growing, then came unknown... See More »
I Write PoetryLose no sleep over those that watch and let you hang, Be weary of crimson weeds that have not thorn but fang. Burn not for those who don't give your spirit spark, Bleed not for they who bring no light into your dark. Stay not for those who would... See More »
