they scream in terror and oppress
they know not how much a mess
feeling cold and frightened only with
a purple charcoaled hyacinth

they burned in fires far away
they waste tomorrow and today
with nothing more than ugly tales
of tears of blood and starving wails

they poured salt upon the wounds
of bleeding mothers and their wombs
with a childish knife of rusty black
they stole their lifeblood like a snack

they, vampiric victimed selves,
could not climb off of their shelves
of fear and hatred reigning high
like the quivering leaves of Apenine

there are those who love
***** black, ashen doves
who can't distinguish
between joy and anguish.

they say love is pain
who knew it was twisted and vain?
they shattered them to pieces
and their hearts developed creases.

break free from this prison
they told me when I'd risen
you're traveling down an endless road
but at least it's the one I chose.

if I can't decide who I am
then give me the slightest chance
to find myself in loving others
but you aren't my sisters
and you aren't my brothers.

"you brutal sky. so far away, yet everywhere I see. nothing but blue with white clouds dotting your silk skin every so often. rain will pour down your marble cheeks when monsoon season comes around the corner and your eyes will flood. you cruel sky. you cause my blood to run into glass castles attempting to feel the pain you tease my senses with. clouds aren't soft on you. ceramic edges slicing your sky and porcelain dolls shattering on the bathroom ground of your heart. how strange you've made my words. even now, when you've left, I still ache with your pain and suffering. I didn't need your pain, but I asked for it anyway and here I am. a raining monsoon season filled with old memories that were never mine. this inheritance is prideful and I have built my great wall high above your sky and ceramic edged clouds. so leave me behind. I won't see you leave. I won't look behind me when I am too fragile to watch you fade away. it will be painful, sensing your absence having never said goodbye."

throw
me
away

let
me
waste
away

tell
me
i'm
okay

that
i'll
live
another
day

with
sand
in between
my
toes

and
fireflies
dancing
in
the
sky

throw
me
away
but
do
it
gently

You could throw me in a cage
and grate my skin from my bones.
You could eat my heart raw
in front of me.
You could let a lion ravage me,
tear me apart, piece by piece
with my ****** ashes
soaking in ocean water.
You could feast
on my madness
but I will not be truly scared
unless you take my tongue
and my pen.

when a friend becomes a stranger
and bitterness always lingers
when the sweet becomes sour
and all the brave seem to do is cower
when a heart breaks and heals
and all the skin can do is steel
be prepared to scream
you can win no other way
if you don't have a battle cry,
fighting as if you're
prepared to die.

we were never friends consistently
and yet i loved you most ardently.

i am madly in love with you
so please
treat me well
whether you love me back
or not.

gentle spirit,
break my heart.
With kind words,
unspoken art.

you have golden fingertips
and the touch of midas
in your hands.

how ironic is it
that a girl
who gets so easily seasick
and is terrified yet hypnotized
by deep waters,
is so perpetually
in love
with the ocean?

falling out of love
with this tongue
aches to no end.

if only he knew
that every time
i look at him
i see a galaxy
a galaxy
too far
away
from
me.

we might still be ignoring each other,
(is that what we call this silence?)
by the time it comes around.
i might still love you
and you might still not know,
but despite this heartbreak
and shaky hands of mine,
i will still wish you happy birthday.

i'm as dull as butter.
there is no more poetry
i can squeeze out of me anymore.
where did it all go?

this feeling
pertaining to you
is peculiar.

i know you must be gentle.
i feel it in the pit of my stomach.

i'll be in the background
and waiting for you to say hi.

When I tell you
That I'm in love with you
I will do so with a poem
Because that is the language
That I speak.

i have a horrible habit
of writing poetry about
the boy i love.

Don't get me wrong,
Even though I loved him,
He never dictated my happiness.
He just—he made me happier.

i want to stop loving you
the way i wish i could love myself

Okay no
You're not obligated to think of me
But it still hurts when you don't

bright and glorious
we shine

hello poetry is quite inactive lately. where are all my fellow poets gone?

Cutting my neck open wide
to let you see and touch
what is and was inside.

Staring into universes
to taste what blessings are
that will eventually turn into curses.

Gasping in the foul air
that your lungs provide;
you lure me into your lair.

Feeding me maggot-ridden,
crying, destructive and putrid words
lain under the depths of your tongue.

Falling into my eyes
a devastating force of gravity;
falling into your own lies.

Your empire will sink
and your kingdom will scream
for its own destruction.

And until you admit your defeat
you will never walk in light
and I will no longer
stand by your side.

it was then that i realized
if he couldn't bother
treating me like a queen
then he had no right
to stand in my kingdom.

let another queen
decide your fate,
my love.

you waste my time.

i can't say i won't cry
because of you
but i can say i smiled
because of you

and i will never
forget that.
even when
you forget me.

you are vague
in your words
in your actions

you keep quiet
when you talk
because you
don't want
me to know
that you know
what I know

you wrote your soul
on my skin
with a silken paintbrush
and sky blue paint––

i'm sorry.

i wrote my soul
on your skin
with a sharpened knife
and blood red paint––

i'm sorry.

What a commotion!
My talent needs promotion!

I can't seem to write.
I really want to fight
whatever's stopping my fingers
because now they over-linger
on the keyboard.

Agh! I really want to write!
But quit I just might!
The words in my head
just want to go to bed,
but I don't want to let them!

Grr, writer's block is frustrating.
I have ideas, I'm ready to verbal *****,
but the something that stops me
I'm really really hating!

It's like there's a transparent wall
between my motivation
and my story ideas.
I can see them,
but I can't use them at all.

Help! I need a bulldozer!
I can't break this wall down!
Ugh, my head hurts from being overused.
I can feel my brain frown.
Come on, dude!

Writer's block, go away,
don't ever come again
another day!

PBTHHH I can't think.
Maybe I can use a hammer
to pound ideas and motivation
into my head.

Okay I'm done.

I still hate writer's block.

You have my heart,
in the fragile palm of your hand.

My love for you,
runs deeper than the ocean.

It beats with a purpose,
and that purpose is you.

Stars shine in your eyes,
magnitudes of watercolors dance.

In pools of flowery light,
your spirit of gentleness roams.

Like a gentle lamb,
you love the meadows of gold.

Jumps higher than the sequoias,
you leap with the hope of a child.