What is a poem?
Perhaps a free thought, Just floating in the air?
Maybe a feeling, A mix of many different emotions?
What is a poem?
It is what ever you make it.
That's what a poem is.
A poem is me.
They are the only images I see when I shut my eyes. I tried closing them tighter, to get rid of the gruesome memories, but they just become more vivid and alive. Somehow they've made me numb and frozen. I guess I am thankful. If I were to constantly break down every time I thought of those memories I'd surely lose my mind. Not that I haven't, at least not much.
I stare out of my cracked window. The rain is really coming down. The sun has almost vanished and I know I should be getting up soon. If I don't then there will be consequences. Not severe, but consequences nonetheless.
As I'm dressing in all skin tight black there's a shift in the air. Niki materializes in my peripheral, dressed in the same attire. Her black streaked bangs are messy in her face. If ever I could have a best friend, she'd be the one.
"I see you're ready," she says.
"Don't we have to be," I tell her.
She half shrugs and pulls her short, blonde, and black hair in a tight pony tail. I p
Sky and Earth
I asked you what it must be like
To see everything,
To feel everything.
Of course, I never did get an answer from you.
So I guess I'll never know.
I can wonder,
I can assume,
I can even conjure up some incredible explanation!
I can let be what is.
But then again, if I were to do so, you would surely be gone forever
Dead to the world,
Lost to me
So many times I thought of joining you,
But I suppose I'm too selfish.
I want to stay attached.
My earth, a solid surface.
If ever I fall I can get back up.
I wanted to ask why you wished to fly all the time,
But it was too late.
I never got around to it.
I decided to lie down,
On my earth,
And just stare above.
Oh how vast!
You smiled upon me then.
And I received all of the answers.
One of us had to stay rooted,
Or the other would surely drift away.
We finally intertwined our fingers.
This is a poem to my mommy, Natasha, who will never know my true thoughts and feelings.
Underneath my cold, rough, and seemingly flawless surface,
you've left my insides tattered, in shambles, shattered.
All because of YOUR failures and hardships.
All because of YOUR shame.
My face left stinging from your anger fueled lashes,
I swore I were an unwanted stepchild.
I thought you purely despised me..
I thought you had no real need for me..
I thought it was I who just failed you....
But I know now that it's just in your nature.
You have no control of your own life,
So you take mine.
You try to live through me.
I wrote this poem because I will always have something inside me that despises you too.
I wrote this for my own comfort.
I wrote this to ful
Can't believe that I feel good enough.
It's been a long time coming,
but I feel good.
Doesn't really matter how I feel inside.
lonely little life.
You're pushing and pulling me down.
I can't say no to you.
It was always you
falling for me,
but I don't know what I want.
Because I've never felt like this before.
I hate this.
I hate this.
For The No Ones
To those who have been branded and bashed from society.
Those who've found comfort and refuge within the shadows
To the ones who put up with the harsh slanders from supposed peers.
For those who wait for the sun to disappear.
To those whose hearts and minds work together as one.
Those who fear the thought of being afraid.
To those whose vast minds are kept concealed.
For those who lose every battle but are victors in the war.
To those you must get to know before you permanently label.
Those who don't know the value of their own worth.
To those who are never sure of who or what they really are.
For those who only have themselves to love;
Like stars that are only appreciated in the night sky.
Not realizing that the sun itself is the biggest star.
They are one with the night,
Soaking up the beautiful darkness.
Remind us all that before the day, darkness was the only light.
Darkness was, and still is, all around us.
So embrace it.
Confessions of a BorderlineHer gaze is the most peculiar thing,
she can't hold still for anyone.
One minute, it's rosewater delicate
and the next - the fire of a Gatling gun.
She's exactly what occurs when sugar and salt
are mixed in a chemical reaction.
Have you seen the way she walks the die?
Oh, but it's such an attraction!
You may feast your eyes, but you'd better not touch,
in fact, you should never go near her.
But hide away and lock your doors
and teach the kids to fear her!
When she gets upset over the littlest thing,
she gets all suicidal
(though you really should see her when she gets mad
she's full-blown homicidal).
When it comes to sanity (or lack thereof),
she's Harley's fiercest rival.
Can't calm her nerves to live her dream
then she stuffs up every recital.
She very hardly discerns her feelings,
she may hate you but she'll need you to live.
But she's barely a person, so it's perfectly fine
to use her till you've all she can give!
And you can't fall in love with a girl like her
(unless, of course,
DevourOh I'm well aware of my own limitations,
Unlike you, I do not quite have the talent.
I cannot warp the minds of the young and malleable,
I cannot make them believe I am greater than I am.
I am simply, not like you...
But if I were to eat you, I wonder.
Would I too experience such glory?
If I were to devour your flesh,
And drink your soul as if it were a fine wine.
Would I too become great?
Let us find out you and I;
And I'll thank you in advance, for the lovely meal!
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
Losing ItI'm kind of going crazy,
I'm caught inside my mad mind.
Ten different things weigh me down, but I'm still fine!
The words are coming slowly, my mind is on a slur.
I can't string this poem, because the brain is on a blur!
And I get so frustrated, I tear away at skin;
The hair is falling down and the voices make a din!
I wanna shut them out, but I can't find a key,
So all that I can do is simply shut away the ME.
Back BiteIf you think that you can beat me with your fakery,
I won't let you break or put me down; I'm a landmine!
And if you think that you can ever silence this deal,
Then sew your lips shut, while I show you what's real!
You live inside your fairytale world,
And you're ever right.
Think that you can cloud us with this fantasy?
I will show you venom and I will show you poison,
I will spit you verse that is as raw as its poignant
So why don't you sit back, arms flat, relax;
Let a new man take control of the apex!
And if you think that you can touch with flower-kissed verses,
I will take your dreams and I'll turn them into curses;
Don't think that you can fake a writer who's real,
Or I might have to show you how the real dark feels!
Reasons We Love Homestuck“Reasons we love H O M E S T U C K.”
Why do this love this web comic, you ask?
Maybe it’s just the way the fandom rolls,
or how mean Andrew Hussie trolls.
It could possibly be Eridan’s accent (WWyeh?)
or even Feferi’s keyboard trident. (---E)
Some people say it’s Equius’ broken bows and arrows, ( D →)
but what about Nepeta’s meows and roleplays? (:33 <)
We really do love Sollux’s lisp,
and also when Karkat’s pissed. (FUCKASS!)
Including Kanaya's fabulous lipstick,
it's also Rose's amazing magic.
How about when Dave starts rapping
and Jade Harley begins napping?
We love Vriska’s eight-pupiled eye,
and how John is such an adorable guy.
Or maybe it’s with all the sprites
or how prospit glows bright.
Can’t forget about Derse’s darkness
or Gamzee and all his soberness. (WHOOPS.)
There’s also this thing with Tav and stairs
which he t
NostalgiaThe first time my fingers
Sailed across your shorelines
was magical. It felt like I was running
through the past and pulling memories
from way back. But even nostalgia
eventually becomes useless and mundane.
A chore to hide the bitterness
With sour kisses and cheap perfume.
We lived our lives in New York minutes;
Being wasted was never time wasted,
We survived for a while
on fake laughs and ganja cookies.
But like everything; like with everyone else,
Within an instant,
I made you breakfast,
and was gone.
Not My Kind of Fairy TaleDon't give me the Knight
Whose armor shines so bright.
Give me the Knight,
Whose armor is dull and broken.
Whose horse is weary,
Whose heart is heavy.
Give me the Knight who looks at the dragon with pity,
For that dragon has done nothing,
And is just as imprisoned as the princess he guards.
Don't give me a princess who only wishes to be saved,
By that Knight whose armor shines so bright.
Give me the princess who wishes to escape yes,
But wants to free the dragon,
Who does not wish to marry her savior--
Nay, give me the princess who wants to explore,
Who wants to live and to learn.
For the years of imprisonment only made her yearn,
Not for the Knight whose armor shines bright,
But to see the world and live in the light.
Do not give me the evil dragon,
Whose soul purpose is to give that bright Knight something to fight.
No, give me the dragon who is weary,
Who longs for the freedom of the sky,
Whose leg is burdened with chains,
And whose heart aches for the princess he must guard,
The DonorThe Doner 7/27/15
I've had a good life.
I have no regrets.
It''s time for me to die.
What will be my legacy?
These are things I wonder.
How will I be remembered?
Who will mourn me?
Have I done enough?
Did I appreciate the air I breathe?
So I made a decision.
A choice of the heart.
When I die I will donate
parts of me.
Parts I hold dear.
If in the future I can be helpful
to someone who is without - that will
be my purpose.
My corneas, which helped me view beauty
and ugliness in this world.
I will give to someone who can't see.
Maybe they have been blind all their
life or maybe it's new and it kills them.
If I can give them a glimpse of what
I saw then I will die with a grin on my face.
My lungs ( although I had asthma and suffered
occasionally when I was young ) could
breathe new life into a child or
a person with emphysema.
Maybe they will be thankful for a second chance.
And finally my heart. Which now beats faster
knowing my fate. I don't wish to die.
But the cancer is coursing throu