Pencil yellow
Paper white
Haunt me in my dreams tonight
Fill my head with words worth writing
To make my life feel more inviting
Pencil thin
Paper flat
I am not much more than that
Give my words a deeper meaning
So one day they’ll be worth repeating
Pencil yellow
Paper white
Haunt me in my dreams tonight
If I should die while I’m asleep
I pray these words aren’t mine to keep
They say she’s an artist
painting pictures on her wrist,
blood red drawings in marker
that are really hard to miss.
She doesn’t see their beauty though,
so she hides them all away,
silent in the hope
that they might fade someday.
They say she’s an outcast,
that she should be ashamed,
how could anyone love someone
who’s brought their body so much pain.
They tell her she’s a monster,
she destroys all that she touches
she starts to believe them,
she doesn’t see the flowers growing from her clutches.
She says that she’s worthless,
she’d be better off dead,
she’s never any use,
too busy fig
I drew myself upon a throne,
And there I sit, etched in stone,
A lesson to be learned in jest
A tale of one man’s unhappiness.
The story starts in a simple byre,
Where a farmer dreamt of rising higher,
So he threw his whole life’s work away
And set off to find a witch that day.
When he told her of his malady,
The witch, she laughed in malicious glee,
‘Greed can be a fickle mistress,
Are you certain this is in your best interest?’
The farmer waved her off impatiently,
‘I have a good deal of money, don’t question me.’
‘I do not deal in that kind of pay,
Believe me; you’ll know what the pr
The words no longer beckon to me
I’ve lost my silver tongue,
Warping thoughts and phrases
Is not so easily done.
I can’t string together sentences
So instead I
B
R
E
A
K
Them a p a r t
Nothing seems correct anymore,
It doesn’t come from my heart.
Back when I was a wordsmith
With my mighty sword of ink
People would come from miles around,
Simply to hear me think.
Now the crowd is tough to find
Since I’ve lost my mental magic,
All I can do is sit and mope,
Because really, it is tragic.
The ledge dances closer
As I twirl in the wind
Exhilarating glistening
The stars focus out and in
The harbor in the distance
Over the great cliff
How I wish to join him
Give him a last breaths kiss
A shriek of joyous laughter
As I spin along the line
Wouldn’t it be lovely
If I were to slip and float through time
A gasp of recognition
You find me at my best
I flash my bravest smile
And jump right to my death
I wish I wasn’t an outsider
Inside this family
I wish I wasn’t ruining
Your picture perfect scene.
The daughter you can be proud of,
But I’m never good enough,
I hide myself away,
But always hiding gets so tough
Scream me a lullaby
So it rings in my ears,
While I mix bitter blood
With these hopeless tears.
Starve me a song
That I can taste on my lips,
Stinging my tongue,
Slimming my hips.
Slice me a melody
That sweetens my hate,
Though deep down inside,
I know it’s too late.
Tidal Wave
Going on emotion
Captured by fear
Running from hatred
Drowning in burden
Never stopping the flow
Never flowing with it
Breaking the tide
To wait for a moment
Judging the mountains
Before finding the sky
Always losing
With no reason why.
The whispering end of the world by ariacokanola, literature
Literature
The whispering end of the world
The true impact of the world will be naught but a whisper
A scream of an ant in the face of the world.
Eliot guessed at the proportional value,
Don’t you get how ridiculous we sound?
Like a lone baby’s wail in a packed noisy hall,
Begging for attention,
We love to reach out and call.
Make ourselves bigger,
Though we are so damn small,
Nothing will remember the bare imprint
we’ve made in the wall of the universe.
Look at you staring in contempt
At fields drenched in the blood of your enemies.
Didn’t you know revenge is a fool’s game,
In which the wise always wait out?
Haven’t you got a damn clue,
As you look over the wreckage,
Only to find yourself in the scarlet remains.
Death may be a macabre thing,
But all you see is beauty
As the smell of death rides the wind.
Carnage rots in the darkness,
And your sick, twisted self takes a bite.
Haven’t you heard mercy screaming in the distance?
Take the breath from your lover,
As you run your decaying fingers over her throat.
Blue and bloated from deaths grip,
You smile; a damp, sickenin
Pencil yellow
Paper white
Haunt me in my dreams tonight
Fill my head with words worth writing
To make my life feel more inviting
Pencil thin
Paper flat
I am not much more than that
Give my words a deeper meaning
So one day they’ll be worth repeating
Pencil yellow
Paper white
Haunt me in my dreams tonight
If I should die while I’m asleep
I pray these words aren’t mine to keep
They say she’s an artist
painting pictures on her wrist,
blood red drawings in marker
that are really hard to miss.
She doesn’t see their beauty though,
so she hides them all away,
silent in the hope
that they might fade someday.
They say she’s an outcast,
that she should be ashamed,
how could anyone love someone
who’s brought their body so much pain.
They tell her she’s a monster,
she destroys all that she touches
she starts to believe them,
she doesn’t see the flowers growing from her clutches.
She says that she’s worthless,
she’d be better off dead,
she’s never any use,
too busy fig
I drew myself upon a throne,
And there I sit, etched in stone,
A lesson to be learned in jest
A tale of one man’s unhappiness.
The story starts in a simple byre,
Where a farmer dreamt of rising higher,
So he threw his whole life’s work away
And set off to find a witch that day.
When he told her of his malady,
The witch, she laughed in malicious glee,
‘Greed can be a fickle mistress,
Are you certain this is in your best interest?’
The farmer waved her off impatiently,
‘I have a good deal of money, don’t question me.’
‘I do not deal in that kind of pay,
Believe me; you’ll know what the pr
The words no longer beckon to me
I’ve lost my silver tongue,
Warping thoughts and phrases
Is not so easily done.
I can’t string together sentences
So instead I
B
R
E
A
K
Them a p a r t
Nothing seems correct anymore,
It doesn’t come from my heart.
Back when I was a wordsmith
With my mighty sword of ink
People would come from miles around,
Simply to hear me think.
Now the crowd is tough to find
Since I’ve lost my mental magic,
All I can do is sit and mope,
Because really, it is tragic.
The ledge dances closer
As I twirl in the wind
Exhilarating glistening
The stars focus out and in
The harbor in the distance
Over the great cliff
How I wish to join him
Give him a last breaths kiss
A shriek of joyous laughter
As I spin along the line
Wouldn’t it be lovely
If I were to slip and float through time
A gasp of recognition
You find me at my best
I flash my bravest smile
And jump right to my death
I wish I wasn’t an outsider
Inside this family
I wish I wasn’t ruining
Your picture perfect scene.
The daughter you can be proud of,
But I’m never good enough,
I hide myself away,
But always hiding gets so tough
Scream me a lullaby
So it rings in my ears,
While I mix bitter blood
With these hopeless tears.
Starve me a song
That I can taste on my lips,
Stinging my tongue,
Slimming my hips.
Slice me a melody
That sweetens my hate,
Though deep down inside,
I know it’s too late.
Tidal Wave
Going on emotion
Captured by fear
Running from hatred
Drowning in burden
Never stopping the flow
Never flowing with it
Breaking the tide
To wait for a moment
Judging the mountains
Before finding the sky
Always losing
With no reason why.
Look at you staring in contempt
At fields drenched in the blood of your enemies.
Didn’t you know revenge is a fool’s game,
In which the wise always wait out?
Haven’t you got a damn clue,
As you look over the wreckage,
Only to find yourself in the scarlet remains.
Death may be a macabre thing,
But all you see is beauty
As the smell of death rides the wind.
Carnage rots in the darkness,
And your sick, twisted self takes a bite.
Haven’t you heard mercy screaming in the distance?
Take the breath from your lover,
As you run your decaying fingers over her throat.
Blue and bloated from deaths grip,
You smile; a damp, sickenin
One
If I could drink you up
In one foul sip,
Desires rolling off my lips,
Breathing lust with open eyes,
Bringing about my sinful demise.
Two
Bite by bite,
Excess still,
Not caring if I’ve had my fill,
Taking candy from a babies skinny hand,
Fattened up while in a starving land.
Three
I need for nothing,
But want for others need,
My soul is black from heedless greed.
Four
Watching others slave away,
While I lay in bed all day,
Lazy slumping,
Purpose is nothing,
Productivity has faded away.
Five
Holding anger as it eats me away,
Let it out day by day,
Breaking others for simple joy,
Or maybe a grudge fueled my ploy,
Whatever the fire
she is death and he is life but i, am
somewhere in between.
Mother says I have a poet's heart and Father tells me that I have a swimmer's physique
but I feel
that only poets understand poetry, swimmers were not meant to have a weight of
more than 111 pounds, and irony is bitterly
justified.
I had always thought that class clowns weren't meant to be poets,
but yesterday a boy said
That he loved the pages in the science books that smelled like
vanilla.
you told me that there is shelter under the youngest of redwood saplings,
beauty in he most rugged of olive trees,and
That there was a time when the world was blue and green
but maybe that w
for the people with depression. by RoseScarlet, literature
Literature
for the people with depression.
one day, the pressure becomes hard to take.
I don't know what to do, only know that it aches
The past is just haunting, and it keeps going on
Don't know anything anymore, only that something is wrong.
It was the loss of a love, the death of a friend
Half of my heart that I wish didn't end
I knew he was gone, but I couldn't believe
So I hid the pain in cuts under my sleeves
No reason to smile, no reason to live
I cut because blood's the only thing I can give
But now I know that I'm not alone, there's someone who cares
One person's gone but everyone else is still there
I know that it's painful, I know how you feel.
I have depression, I know
was there ever
love under the darkness of her night wounds?
born from grief is the little girl from the city of fog
[dark hair dark eyes dark heart]
A mistake.
Away, away
She runs.
Th only thing: we shouldn't be real.
There are no constellations from the stargazing days,
Just
A few lights here and there
Soon there will be nothing left.
The world is a living prison and I am nothing but the dust buried in a dark corner.
This is not poetry.
I am a figment of my own imagination.
He cut up my heart in half and found
air, red dye, and a bottle of ink.
But I will be found.
Amaranthine and wilting dahlias. by RoseScarlet, literature
Literature
Amaranthine and wilting dahlias.
Darling,
your doe-eyed belladonna is a soon-to-be
nameless.
1000 paper cranes but she'll never reach the moon.
(One, two, three, four, five she's gone and breathe no more)
would be beautiful but there are
Crumbling roses carved into her
moonskin
I say this as a statement, not a question, that
she buried your dahlias into her tangled heartstrings
And she'll fall on the trail of stars to heaven,
won't come home tonight.
Admidst the darkness
I see the blinking lights of
A distant city
Orion's arrows
and Leo's claw marks are carved
into flesh of sky.
For every soul a
star. I see your reflection,
faces in the moon
On a peaceful night,
when there are no clouds, they
guide my feet back home.
in which i turn into a wolf by RoseScarlet, literature
Literature
in which i turn into a wolf
i am dancing with ribbons at daybreak, but do you see
the light streaming in through the windows (do you)
well i can.
and i can see jupiter soaring above
i can see the boy in the snakeskin he's about to catch
I can see down to the grave.
and mother lupa never told me to kill remus but I did so anyway.
breathing
the darkness
lurking in the blinding sunshine
it is destroying me.
i am
delusional in a different kind of way
need everything i lost
say something
please
help me through
it's
so beautiful up here
but i am too scared to fall
for you
are you still listening
can you still hear me from your grave
(wilted roses at the floor our
haunted ocean ballroom)
i have fallen too late.
(glass eyes,
cracked inside)
you are this scar,
you are the street i will never cross
i need you like a heart needs a beat
And i can't let you slip away.
because we shared life
when the fire within our seas
ran,
ran through our veins,
and when we danced
to the stars, celestial glory.
(lady terra,
she's just a flower grown wild.)
so when the lights fade away
into the dark
remember me, fallen angel
and
bring me the horizon
give me the sun
(i want his wings,
crimson
vermillion
and the taste of blood
oranges
slashed across the sky.)
for i am a sunken ship.
(master of the umbra)
i hate you.
broken whispers, lonely promises,
you are the worst of lovers, owning all, but
never seeming to be satisfied
even with your name branded scarlet into my wrists.
i am no longer the golden songbird as when you first met me,
but yet
you still hang onto me
your claws
raking across my heart like
my pen ripping across the bloodstained page, like
lightning across the skies, (vengeance
raining down from the gods i used to believe in)
"don't let them catch you,"
you breathed into my ears.
an ounce of life, in exchange for a cloak of darkness (i thought i'd only stay one night)
the fog was sluggish and deep.
so bl
my broken wounds, I am
to rn where we left off, and
The stars are nothing but heartbreak, because you said you would give up every single one of them
For me.Writer's block never existed
When you were there to kiss it off
my eyelashes.
I so miss your heartbeat, steady in the rain, I'll never let you go
Our love was buried by the snow, my footprints are lonely and deep.
I'll just touch your broken face
one
last
time
.
Maybe I will watch over you, my angel, until I go with you,
And
Never again will I see your laughing face
Those eyes, they were our stars
Shining in the darkness
[Why is the sk
Soo, My great grandmother is in a home now, and my Great pap is in one just to be closer to her, and doesn't go back to their house a lot. So me my mom, and my grandma went over to clean up a bit, and raid for items they aren't ever going to use anymore. We were going through the cupboards to save any food that was still good, though most was expired, and were looking at the dates right? Well here are some things we found:
- marshmallow spread - expired in '89
- Sun Drop (pop) - expired '79
- pepperoni - not sure when it expired, but it was white....
- corn syrup - expired '77
- spray butter - expired '08
The heck grandma?! I laughed
Sooo since Wednesday I have had these two bites on my neck from some type of bug (I think... O.o) and they got so puffy and gross it is bright red and goes straight across my neck. So now it looks like I tried to hang myself or cut my throat. -_- It is FINALLY starting to go away, but of course it is scabbing up. It is soooo friggen itchyD:
Now is not the time to have a panic attack, Aria. Stop being so damn selfish. don't even think about it, you aren't the only one with problems. Why am I such a selfish idiot?