[x]

It's Your Sick WorldYou're bold, you're stupid, the blame game is your friend.

Pointing fingers, shouting names,
none of them your own.

Swollen bellies, teenage bodies, where's the father,
why the bother?

Drugs replacing, mind is racing, colours facing, love escaping.

Designer brands determine friendships,
the popular ruining it all.

See the girl in the chair, dead in the centre,
judged, broken, offended, broken.

What do you do?

Judge, break, offend, BREAK!

Tear down the creative,
shatter the artistic.

This is your life,
walking a fake line.

Cherish it, or don't.
It's your sick world.

I Am Not ThemI've got the scars on my skin,
Reminding what I've done,
Who I've been;
Never letting me forget
Everything that I regret
And making sure I know
That I am not Them.

When the moon is way up high,
And the world is in a dream,
I will cry
For all of the death
Within my breath
Whispering into my ear
That I am not Them.

They make me Their shallow joke,
The things They say and do,
Making me choke;
World wants me dead
I'm sick in the head
All because of the fact
That I am not Them.

If I could transform myself,
Make me rich in beauty,
'Cos that's their wealth
I'd rather just die
I want to remain I
Proud of all I am and
That I am not Them.

I think I

Charade (or Dysfunctional Love)Something old, something new,
Just give me one perfect devious answer,
Or do I have to weed out of you a clue?
You say you adore me, but it feels like cancer,
To perform this childish charade every disaster.

Close shut the door and wave goodbye,
Look through echoes of grimy glass in regret,
To see a forlorn face but you don't know why?
Where times spent in trust you can never forget,
From chords of a pitiful piano that sing then cry.

Something borrowed, something blue,
Just give me one good honest reason,
Why I should give a damn about you?
You say you love me, but it feels like treason,
To play this churlish charade every seaso

Lies and Truth (Beautiful and Ugly)If I wasn't me and you weren't you,
We wouldn't be us,
And maybe I could love you.
If the sun wasn't bright and the sea weren't blue,
Life wouldn't be this,
And maybe lies could be true.
If plenty was enough and too much wasn't few,
Empty wouldn't be full,
And rather falling I'd have flew.
But instead I fell,
I fell hard for you.

No not you;
I fell for something true,
But that's a lie, as here I do too;
I lie on the floor and cry, cry for you.
I want the light but you're the dark,
I'm the owl but I was born a lark,
I'm just some paradox, dead and stark;
Lying on the floor and crying, crying in the dark.
I fell for a lie

Who am I?Who am I?
There are probably many people who ponder this question
Who am I?
Some of them know it
They call themselves 'Barbie'
'Punk'
Or 'player'
But does the label say something about who they are?
It gives enough detail to which social stratum they belong to,
But my question is whether their heart is in for what they do?
Are they really the person they pretend to be?
Or are people what they say?
I wish I knew the answer,
Because I would really like to know why I am called special,
And what special means,
For I am not a pink Barbie doll or very attractive,
I think I might be what others categorize as weird,
And so what,
I

Paradigm Of The Lost DivineTake my pitiful mind to a better place,
So I can see the brightest stars shine,
In that abysmal hope called space.
To reach out and touch a forbidden face,
Is the greatest gift anyone could find.

For I have witnessed in vast wonder,
The eternity before this epic I ponder,
Where no creature would consider his death.
But who am I to declare what is up or down?
Nothing is the name of hell in which I drown.

Take my woeful heart to a lesser worth,
So I can hear the darkest sighs scream,
In that dismal void called birth.
That genesis of so mysterious a mirth,
Is the coldest curse anyone could dream.

For I have listened to past laught

A Wanderer's TaleA Wanderer's Tale

The old man stopped upon the top of the hill
And looked out over the vast green heath
His knees and ankles growing stiff and still
He had come a long way—a very long way

The gypsy woman, runaway from home
She wandered far away from her fatherland
But "Which lands would be her next to roam?"
Was her only wonder as dawn rose from dark

The young girl had just given him the slip
The shackles on her arms clinked like chimes
How ironic the sound, she pondered for a nip
Then continued on her newly destined path

The wild rabbit had just risen for morning
Come out cautiously from its cozy little burrow
But only to

Cover It With InkI will not break another person in my life
Those who I have broken I will fix
I'm done with this thought that I'm nothing
Cause I'm something that no one will never be

I'm done crying myself to sleep
I will laugh at the thought
I will never pick that blade up again
Cause if I will cut something it will be paper

I will cut paper
With my pen
I will write my emotions
And I will not hide

I'm not evil
I will cut my paper
I will use my deadly weapon
I feel bad for the item I'm covering in ink

I know how it feels to be covered
I know how it feels to be cornered
I will not take any pills
This is my medication

I will learn
Somethi

Colorful SorrowOrange clouds,
Stone grey life,
Shim'ring shrouds…
Green mist haze,
Blood-red tears,
Empty gaze…
Full pink lips,
Blackened heart,
Sailing ships.

Heated blood,
Tender words,
Emotions flood…
Cold hard mind,
Warm body,
Words so kind…
Open grave,
Beating rain,
Standing brave.

Gone forever,
Empty rooms,
Ties to sever…
Time's a blur,
White roses,
Are you sure?
Crystal drips,
Absence felt,
Blank fear grips…

Beaten gong,
Moonlight grass
Sad little song…
Silver lining,
Little bells,
A voice crying…
Long thin sighs,
Parted lips,
Golden eyes…

Ashen face,
Purple eyes,
Silk

FallI look at you as you begin to change
with different colors that make you feel strange.
As you start getting weak and your skin getting dry
with a big, mighty wind keeps blowing you by.

Feeling that you don't have strength at all.
Being force to let loose, just want to stay tall
but while big winds blow from top to bottom
you let loose, fall and land on the bottom.

I look at you as you're about to change
with different colors that's making you strange.
From fresh bright green to crumble yellow and red,
you good looks crumble down as you begin to feel dead.

I start realizing those hot summer days are done
as winds get cooler and no

perceptionwould you cease to be awed by the ocean by a drop of it?
or gaze at the night sky with less wonderment because of a single star?
you would not fault a river by a single bend,
nor the wind and rain for the shape of each stone.
we have such a fractured perception of ourselves,
we see individual parts and pieces,
and we hang our worth on the smallest curve or line.
we weigh, we measure, and far too often we find ourselves wanting
but look into the mirror,
and see instead how each line falls together,
how each piece you perceive flows in to the next,
constructing a singular and unique creation.
a building is not judged by a single br

We Are Writers.What good are my words,
Among thousands of lines,
Through time and space,
Nothing different, nothing new.
In so few years ill be forgotten to all
Lost in the carnage
A casualty of time,
My words washed up and thrown away,
To be rehashed by people going nowhere,
Just like me.
We're no different, we're timeless
We transcend all history,
We're our own story,
Written time and time again,
Changing with the generations,
Standing apart from the marching lines,
That go so quickly to destruction.
We are writers, that is so,
But do we change our world with our words,
A stanza at a time?
Or will our hearts fears and loves
Of written

RememberI'm more than
an apparition,
a niggling thought,
a feeling of déjà vu.

I won't
become a friendship that didn't happen,
get set aside like a book on a dusty shelf,
fade into the faces of the swarm.

When I swim against the current,
it won't carry me away.
When I stick out,
they won't hammer me in.
When I stand up,
the glares won't make me sit down.

Remember me,
especially if
you hate me.

Not Good EnoughNot Good Enough

Why am I not enough,
to get through your heart that's so tough?
You ask me to show I care
but you refuse to open up and share.
I constantly feel lost and confused,
thrown away, rejected and used.
What is it that I'm lacking to you?
What causes you to make me sad and blue?
I wish I could escape, get away from here
but I am paralyzed by my fear.
What do I do if I never feel love again?
What will happen to me then?
Should I say goodbye and walk away,
or should I give you another chance and stay?
Tell me what to do
so I wont have to lose you.

The Details of her FaceThe smoke of her cigarette,
Dances along the room,
Light beams rest,
Upon her body,
She knows from backwards,
All my smiles,
The sound of her voice,
Won't let me go away,
-
And if I stop to think about everything,
I don't remember of much,
Besides the details of her face,
My mouth, that before only felt the bitter,
Can't feel other thing now,
Besides the details of her face,
-
The smell of her perfume,
Is impregnated in my hair,
The bed sheet,
Is used to her skin,
Her eyes,
With frequency, catch me by surprise,
One of the sides of the bed,
Already belongs to her,
-
I know I'm naive,
I know someday you're going to b

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Plastic SurgeryA carnage of your agonizing sins.
The errors that fault your squalid vitality.
I will cleanse your of such gremlins,
and erase your chaotic insanity.

Physical pain will release the mentally strange.
The maniacal lune inside of your cocoon.
Strip you of your flesh, peeling as if it was fruit.
I'll make you refresh, your mind reboot.
I'll unzip your eyelids so you can see
how disastrously perfect you could be.

When gore has bled through we'll bathe you in salt.
It will burn, but flaws will fall off.
Hands disfigured, feet misplaced;
I'll correct it all and sew a new face.
With ABC amendments your former self will die.

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Submitted: September 20, 2012
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[x]

Your insecurity.

by ~iHaileeHoward, Sep 20, 2012, 5:45:51 PM
Literature / Poetry / Horror / Free Verse

Hello. Long time, no see.
It's me, your insecurity.
I used to whip around you
but then you cracked your shell.
I've came back to put you back in hell.
So pearl, I'm putting you into a case.
I am the media.
It's your fault that you embraced.
But look at your face, and your body too.
What has gotten into you?
Your thighs now touch and your bones don't show.
I'm anorexia, just to have you know.
Oh, and your wrists, your skin so sweet.
Looks like this round, I've got you beat.
I am the metal razor you've found on the floor.
I'll cut your skin and you'll peel for sure.
Go sit in the corner and sulk like a bitch,
and when you're done your skin will itch.
Sadness will rain on you and your shadow won't leave.
Slowly, so slowly, you'll forget how to breathe.
I am the drugs you use to mask your pain.
I don't live under your bed.
I live in your brain.
I'm the monster in your head.
I'll stay here until you're dead.
I'm here for good, just like how I should.
But hey, I'm back.
I'm your long-lost friend.
Shall we play together again?