Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Apr 2013 Nat
Alyssa O
Revenge
 Apr 2013 Nat
Alyssa O
The bitter taste of resentment
As the dish of revenge grows colder
Waiting, watching, planning
As you get older and older

You stall until the perfect moment
When he will pay for the things he's done
As the time strikes, you pounce
And after all that time you've won

Your patience has finally paid off
His breath no longer taints the air
He's gone from this world forever
It's his own fault that no one cares
Inspired by the quote "Revenge is a dish best served cold." -Shakespeare
 Apr 2013 Nat
Alyssa O
It is a different kind of grief
The grief of a survivor
The pain of the only one left

Doubts fill your mind
Why should you live
When friends have died

Guilty emotions by day
Gore-filled memories by night
They're always there

Gashes mend
And bruises fade
But the scars on your heart remain

Some wounds can't be seen
Can't be healed
Can't be bandaged and cured

Words spoken
Not able to describe
The anguish

You hear echoes of their hopes and dreams
Of beautiful, wonderful tomorrows
That never came

You relive those last moments
The agonizing screams
The dying men on floors slick with blood

Your life will forever be filled
With that melancholy heartache
The guilt of the only survivor
This poem was inspired by Marius from the movie/book/play Les Miserables.
 Apr 2013 Nat
Lacus Crystalthorn
The smell of ink and abandonment lingered in the air as I stepped inside the room we had scarred. Dust has found a home at last - a place where all your faults were accepted and my hope was never questioned. This is where we hold our entire world. This is where each second lasts everlastingly. This is where forever lives.

Tissues slept on the floor like confetti for my return mixed with crippled promises you have dropped and forgotten.The bedsheet lay awake, exhausted, weary, heaving the sigh you exhaled in a lock room - the smell of your desire, of my frustration, of our longing, of my name. I wonder if they had kept your heartbeat. I wonder if I could have it back.

I wonder if I could have you back.

The silence had preserved every single thing you have uttered - every word a bar, each sentence another lock. Your voice hanged themselves on the cobwebs, the cobwebs had consumed the space and you had filled me with wishes, longing and regrets. I have never expected you to say hello again. I certainly never shall. You never did. You never will.

We slept in our mask and redressed in denial.

Forever is still etched on the atmosphere. I can feel you touching the small of my back, paving your way through my spine, reaching your way to where the burnt maps, love letters, crumpled clothes and drawn out nights were. I can feel you possessing my nape. I can hear you whispering my name. I can see you piercing the night. Why do always you have to be so wonderful?

The scars you have etched on my skin breathe like stars on the pillows you have wounded. They glowed longingly for that smell of yours they’re acquianted with. They stood beyond eternity. The inteminable look in your eyes before you sleep had tampered the wallpapers - the audience of those nights we own, when everything was forgotten, including the world. The story of what if and what could have been filled the space between us - never allowing my arms to cling around your neck, never wanting you to kiss my ear, shielding you to find us on the swell between my *******.

The clock had stopped working.

At least it won’t steal my time.

Maybe I can sleep tonight.

Maybe we can be infinite.
~Lacus Crystalthorn, 2012
 Apr 2013 Nat
Adam Evergreen
Closer
 Apr 2013 Nat
Adam Evergreen
With every smile
every twitch
I come closer
another inch
With every tear
every smear
I come closer another inch
Every heartbreak
Every fall
I come closer another inch
Through every breakdown
every stitch
I only can
come closer
another inch
 Apr 2013 Nat
Adam Evergreen
Fading
 Apr 2013 Nat
Adam Evergreen
With the light of a new day
peers just in reach,
The scars fade
and the tears dry
my lips tremble
with a seed of hope
planted in my heart
it grows, and grows
until the blossom
turns my head to to sun
and my lips point to the sky
I have blossomed
from seed, to life
 Apr 2013 Nat
Nick Durbin
A Moment
 Apr 2013 Nat
Nick Durbin
The eerie existence of a simple moment,
           Small and finite, yet full of pretentious meaning...
                                   Simply crossing through dimensions -
                       Almost systemiatically defining life,
           Clarity amongst a constant ibid of chaotic misdirection.
Leaving us with profound instances of life,
                                                                       death,
                                                                            love and loss...
 Apr 2013 Nat
Natalie Clark
We go together like
Digestives dipped in tea.
Your girlfriend and a hike.
A sting and a bee.

I love you like
Dogs love chasing postmen.
Halfords love a bike.
Teachers love red pen.

I need you like
Meerkats need you to go to a different website.
Aunt Josephine needed Ike.
Ghosts need to fright.

In summary, then,
We go together like
I love you like
I need you like

Really poor metaphors.
A reference to popular culture.
An ironic rhyme scheme and rhythm that vanishes towards the end.
Don’t you love a flirt, darling?
 Apr 2013 Nat
Claire Waters
I feel very weird today. everything feels foreign to me, like military time and gun powder. animals staring at boys with scared eyes. the uneasy silence of blood stained sidewalks, the airplanes, the buses, the trash cans. the cameras. the police that flooded the scene as the hatred split the glass windows into a million flying swords. a million fighter jets. the city is a rat trap, I curl up on the floor of my room and listen to the police radio feed, heart knocking in tune to the white noise between more news. i said it over and over. the economy is sinking, your face is something I think of as a whole different place. I keep grasping at the tendons, and the threads. such a messy job. i wish I could be one of those people who did everything right the first time. if you don’t recognize yourself no one will recognize you. the hurt, and the ***, and the dark nights riddled with chinese paper lamps. and the feeling of something ugly growing tumors in the sewers. you say only two people died. but who will die tomorrow. who will shrink into history books. how many cities will burn, how many libraries will burn, who will burn. someone is going to burn, the air tastes like charred cities. the panic. you. I keep wishing to be strong but I don’t think it works like that. I don’t need love, but I really do.
 Apr 2013 Nat
Meka Boyle
Light years
 Apr 2013 Nat
Meka Boyle
Reality has spun its web,
Beneath the indifferent moon,
And as the ocean tides sigh and ebb,
It catches life- too soon.

Time has cast her heavy net
Upon the vacant skies
Begging dawn to ne'er forget
The sunsets slow demise.

Oh, fallen stars, don't fail me now
Your glow outlives your light.
Bear no sweat upon your brow,
For your death  is lost at night.

The sweetest eulogy does sound
Against the hollow space
That pushes the moon round and round,
Casting shadows 'cross my face.
Next page