[x]

Show me what the stars look like tonight.I’ve fallen in love with wars & darkness.

The kind of darkness said to have made
shadow monsters of seen-too-much eyes
& the kind of war lands made of
desecrated, dandelion wrists.

I am the wind, the morphine pump

& I’ve carved my bones into stars.

I wear them around my neck
like outward sun marrow
warming my carotid pulse.

These little glow-in-the-dark blankets
aren’t enough to stifle the sounds;

but my anatomy never seemed to fit
together the right way anyway.

In a Little Girl's MindThere sits the girl with the things in her eyes
Monsters, destruction, and sweet butterflies
Hopscotch and daisies, surrounded by screams
Beautiful dresses now torn at the seams
Crayons and paintbrushes, villains and grins
Young, gladsome innocence, hatred and sins
Little red houses on roads left to fade
Gorgeous moonlight shining off of the blade
Blood pouring out as she cries her own name
Knowing she's forced to take each bit of blame
She could have stopped it and left it behind
All of these things in her troubled young mind
She could have saved them if she dared to try
Rather, though, she left herself there to die.
Now, others watch as she

Rag dollI am the type of girl who hides in forts
Bruised knees drawn up book in hand
Surrounded by cascading towers of paper backs
And a sea of empty tea cups with chipped edges
Folded into a chrysalises of sonnets and haphazard haiku's
Patched upon one another

MasqueradeI don't understand humans.
Through meticulous observation and careful analysis, I have become proficient in appropriate exhibition of and reaction to socially-accepted behavior, but that's exactly what it is: mimicry. It doesn't come naturally to me. Despite extensive synthesis of the information I have gleaned, my fabricated understanding still has some gaps.
That's why intimacy scares me: I find it incomprehensible. It doesn't follow the preexisting rules set by other social statutes. There doesn't seem to be a pattern of behavior at all upon which I can rely in order to anticipate the outcome of situations in which I may find myself. And if I don't understand something at least to some extent, I cannot present a convincing imitation, and that marks me as an outlier.
I'm tired of being an outlier. I want to be part of something I can't comprehend as a whole, something everyone else seems to understand instinctively.
I want to be <

We Are/You Aren'tWe are the unwanted, the broken
The ones you forgot about.
So don't be too surprised when we
Start to scream and shout.

We are the living, the dying
The ones you all put down.
But you'll know who we are when we
Run this goddamn town.

We are the corpses, the maggots
The ones you all despise.
But you'll be the ones scared when we
Expose all your lies.

We are the hunted, the lost
The ones you all spurn.
But you'll cry for our help when we
Leave you all to burn.

We are the losers, the winners
The ones that you deny.
But you'll be the ones damned when we
Hear the angels cry.

A poem about loveLove consists out of pain
Love consists out of desire
Love is what I admire
Love always fights against my brain

Love is despising
Love is passion
Love is not a piece of fashion
Love is always surprising

None of these things are untrue
Love is enough to make one weep
That is love as it seems

Yet when I think of you
I simply can’t fall asleep
Since life is finally better, than in my own dreams

Missing Pieces.I am a missing piece. Something that someone needs.
But at the same time, I feel so incomplete.
I’ve wandered way too far, wondered for far too long
Am I a missing piece? Or a piece that won’t belong?

Is it possible I’m damaged and not missing at all?
That I’m just as dysfunctional as everybody else?
Pretending to be perfect never softened a single fall.
But neither did admitting that you’re broken and flawed.

A broken missing piece. Is that all I’m meant to be?
There is no master plan that includes the likes of me.
Being all alone, it’s a hurt that will not cease.
A hundred thousand years from now

A lion among sheep.There are ghosts in my bloodstream
kissing concrete cells &
the bedroom eyes of nerve endings.

( foreign words
engraved into my marrow, birds in my chest
& wars not yet fought between my hips. )

I've taken myself apart every night
since I learned how to swallow a pen
without gagging;
limb by steady limb.

Passed around by grabby hands,
a sold, & borrowed daughter;

I am a lion among sheep,
drunk on life & ink.

I'd Rather DisappearI'll sit up awake
And I'll cry in my sleep
I'll ache as I wait
For you to come back to me
Now I can't help but break
As you're marching the streets
You took all you could take
And you left me to bleed

I never thought I'd see this day
Waking up without you here
Now I see it every day
And all our dreams have become fear
I do not want to feel this way
I think I'd rather disappear
I'd rather fall right through the stage
Than live on without you here

I hold my head high
But I'm stuck with this pain
Tearing up my insides
Each day staring again
I close my eyes and cry
'Cause I can't take the shame
But with each night gone by
I know

Words HurtWords Hurt

Hit me one more time
Hit me again
Push me around
On the floor
Down the stairs
It hurts less than your words
So kick me
Bruise my skin
But don’t call me names
‘Worthless, ugly’
It causes too much pain
I love you I really do
I’ll take the abuse
And be your punch bag
But please keep your words
My head can’t take it
My mind won’t survive
The truth....
It destroys me.

A Foolish Dreamer"What a pity it is,
to watch in silence,
as the foolish dreamer,
forgets how to dream."

© 2012

Gambler's LamentYou're on a roll
and it's hard
to pick up and leave
the table on
a winning streak.

Casino lights blink blink flash
smash and grab,
your face is less invincible
than you thought it was
last night.

Tick tock time's a wastin'
and there's still
a hundred grand
left over in the bank.

Yesterday's haul is no more
than a long-forgotten dream,
but baby, you're on a roll!

King, queen, jack, ace
diamonds, clubs,
and hearts
and spades,
the suits are waltzing behind your eyes
and you're drunk
on liquid courage.

They sell it
in the bottles labeled
Whiskey.

Count to ten and the sun's risen,
your times up,
but your debt's not paid.

Keep it comin',
y

AbusiveGrip my neck tight and don’t let it go.
Forgetting to let me breathe.
So I can taste blood, as I bite my lip.

Today is the day I please him.
With my innocent body.
Asyouripapartmysoul
“Admit you like it”
Rip my heart out, and drink the remains.

Then chain me to the bed, a neck with scars.
“Oh my oh my, you've been such a naughty girl”
Pitied by the daytime, it’s when vampires like you sleep.

“Oh my oh my, you've been such a naughty girl”
I just want to rip out your wicked heart.

Please forgive these tears running down my cheeks,
I swear I’ll devoid myself of all emotion

Poets have the loneliest hearts.I drink morphine
like peach tea;
down 6 pills by morning
just to keep my mind
filled up
with nothing.

& I know I can go days
without speaking a word
but-

I want a moon shy girl
with wolves at her back,
bite mark ankles &
a bottle of writer’s tears
tucked under one arm.

I want to be end of the war
kisses bruised into her hipbones;
the epilogue written over her
tiger-striped skin.

With these wisteria limbs
February cold, &
these weak lungs
exhaling coralline whispers,

I’ve got a tongue for words
but still have no idea how to love
a universe girl.

Open Heart SurgeryI've got ink throbbing through fissured veins,
poisoning every atom of my soul.

"Bite your tongue," they say.

How I'd love to chew the damn thing off
and suck down every filthy syllable
just like the rotten bone marrow it is.

They'd all watch as my body spontaneously combusts
and becomes nothing but convoluted karma.

And so I wrote,

"Dear poetry,
Teach me the ways of ripping out a human heart,
and stitching it onto ink-stained parchment."

The answer that came was rasped from a cauterized throat:

"Read your future in the collapsed palm of the stars;
find the abandoned pulse of your lionhearted muse;
steal their conformed scalpel and mak

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When I walk down the street,
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you can interpret that anyway you wish...

Playing on swings is still like flying
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what's the problem with never dying?

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Submitted: February 13
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OverActive Imagination

by ~The-Authoress124, Feb 13, 2013, 7:34:09 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Like verbal synesthesia,
^{snap
crackle
pop}
in my head.
Words go

_{bang bang bang}

and all I think are flashes.

Computer fans are white noise
and clicking keys a melody.
I sleep on piles of books
and tell myself bedtime stories
that never, ever end.
It's the same one, every night.
^{over
and over
and over
and over
and over.......}
I edit, even in my head.

One color brings four hundred synonyms to mind
and the feeling of fabric is like a burst of light.
Looking at a photograph is often over whelming,
and all I want to do is know what
they were thinking,
not what I am.

It's a curse and a blessing,
on a wing and a prayer,
and a hundred other cliches
that will never go away.

Here's to the over active imagination
that won't stop finding the meaning in everything.

OverActive Imaginationby ~The-Authoress124

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

I don't know how to describe what it's like to be inside my head,
so I thought I'd write an auto-biographical
poem instead.

love 2 2

~~joy 0 0~~

wow 1 1

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

=realARTIZT Mar 4, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Are you describing MY mind??? lol An overactive imagination, yep, obviously we share that much

I love the way you made this more visual by the way you lined up each line. I haven't read such an awesome poem in a while it seems, so thank you x1000000 for submitting this to #SayItHere.

*AlterEgo1629 Feb 15, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

I love the structure of this! You described my brain perfectly. Well done.

~The-Authoress124 Feb 16, 2013 Student Writer

Thank you! Writing it this way felt like the right way to do it.

~xxxMKJ001 Feb 15, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

And thus, the inside of my head was explained! Well done!

~The-Authoress124 Feb 16, 2013 Student Writer

Nice.
I'm glad everyone thinks I did such a good job.

~xxxMKJ001 Feb 16, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

You did an excellent job! It was no problem

~SayaFantasy97 Feb 14, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

I understand this, it's like I live in many worlds all the time

~The-Authoress124 Feb 16, 2013 Student Writer

Yeah, me too.

~StitchMonster Feb 14, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

YES! That's the one word that came to mind when I read this. It's just phenomenal, I can relate so much to it. Thank you for sharing~ <3

~The-Authoress124 Feb 14, 2013 Student Writer

Thank you so much!

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