[x]

As Insubstantial As Cigarette Smokei.
they wrapped me through with police tape
before i was born;
yellow silk fetters entwined among
the arches of my ribs
and along the hollow bumps of my spine
like a warning

binding back what leviathan lay
indistinct
and waiting
in the dusk

i've searchedandsearched and never found it,
but they promise me,
(oh promise me it's there).

ii.
i've tried to call down the sun from up high
because i didn't like the way it made everything
light.
i prefer the darkness.
(they've told me that's
where i belong,
hidden away for what
better purpose i have yet to
understand.)

iii.
i'm drowning in shadows vague and empty,
and all th

Innocent Purgefingers not full grown
still manage to pull free
undesired calories
and a mother's fear
"honey, please"
says the mom who has too many
worries and wrinkles for
her daughter of nine
"please"
tears spring forth
from wells not seen
since her own pitiful choices
"you're already beautiful,
and there are so many better ways
please, please, please
don't make my same mistakes"
tiny fingers just long enough
to grasp at insecurities
and struggle with feelings
of inadequacy
I want to be pretty

drain her empty
in the filthiest of cleansings
the mind of a child can't comprehend irony,
and that is her only solution

"but mommy" she

Sleeping Behind the WheelI want you to sing me a song
to erase all my preconceived notions
about life, love, and (listless?) dreams.
I want your voice
to conquer all my past--
the beast that plagues me.
I want you to whisper words so sweet
the day may finally rest.
Because I've been awake for years, now--
and I need a little sleep.

take me away--
redeem me with your notes
like fables, like promises,
like wishes made a million times before

take me away--
to that place between my mind and heaven,
that doesn't exist.
because there, I can be comforted
into oblivion

but mostly,
ignore the life I've spent
trying to tally all I've done wrong

I want you

The Same Storywe rewrite our lost history
on the same paper,
expecting new endings.
we truly are insane.

these lessons mean nothing
if not fully dead
the mistakes were worth nothing
if not burned in my head

you can't change the veins
stitched into your skin, you can't change
you- with a day, a word,
a breath of used air.

you want to dive back into that place
between my folds of sanity
where you can unravel the strands
and manipulate them in your hands
so I can't stop to think about
the familiarities.

you can't change the blood
which surges through the cold,
forgotten parts of your body.
but you can tell yourself
you have

if you shu

Blurry Skies, Dreary EyesMy days and moments
and gestures and emotions have all begun
to blur and blend together until I'm not sure
what I was to start with
I can't separate these things anymore and
every person is anything and
time seems to go nowhere,
because I've torn a hole in my pocket
that has allowed the drainage of my sanity and youth
to continue, uninhibited.
I can't get any of it back,
blurry memories and all
but maybe I wouldn't want to.
I'm losing definitions
as I'm finding new words,
and even if I don't know what they mean,
I know how to say them
which is just as well.
Sometimes I worry
that if you weighed my thoughts on a scale,
yo

Carrier Pigeons"Carrier Pigeons"

I will make the carrier pigeons fly over seas

And ocean shores to the coastlines

And back but not before they deliver for me

A letter I wrote especially for your eyes to see

They will hand this letter to the blue jays

Which chirp merrily outside your window

And harmonize with the transparent airways

That carry the tone of your melodic voice

You once hummed a tune so captivating

That I left my room but stayed by the door

And listened as I closed my eyes and viewed

Happiness in the form of notes and stanzas

Those blue jays rest on your awning

Every morning as the sun blossoms the earth

With such delicate rays ma

Painting ThunderstormsI will remember you in flowers, dead and never given.
We are broken promises and shattered glass.
In your traitorous arms,
I wish I'd never closed my eyes,
You are like all good headaches
in that, you will fade away,
In painkillers and flowers on a grave.

crystal catastrophies bottled upv
her shaky hands couldn't hold a pen
or a promise
"my fingers have broken
trying to rewrite clichés-
believe me when I say, I'm special"
hollow laughs glossed over her
tempered smile

as she waited for the day
when that might actually mean
something

i
there was an eve long before dawn
ever tainted the starry night sky and
inflicted vision on those who preferred
to stay in the dark, where a girl
crooned quietly to herself
"what if when we meet,
I've run out of I love you's?"

this was before the sun whispered in her ears
that they'd never mattered, anyway

iv
hopelessness descends
on wearied souls
who couldn't lear

Your Name's My Best ObscenityThe sweetest curses are sugar on lips
If I died this evening, you'd find your name
aflame- the words I last shouted in vain
lingering on my tongue like a toxic kiss-
revenge is addicting, venomous pain,
even spent on cries I know are mundane
No fixing up this unholiest tryst,
forged by two fools who believed in their lies;
or maybe it was I, eager for light
even in spite of the flaws I had seen
Can light be fake? Were your twinkling eyes
a mere disguise to make me ignite?
Aflame, in vain, impure light fuels my screams

Poets Always Lieambrosial fabrications are
easier to swallow down when
incandescence is a blessing bestowed
only upon those with silky tongues.

deceptions are beautiful
in the right words

because they are salvation, like a
rapture, they save the sickly,
self-indulgent souls from those
tragedies they used to write on the insides
of childhood notebooks about who
they could never be [themselves]

they rescue them from tremulous
corners and closets, hideaways
where they've grown too akin to
the demons they nurse; and drag
them into a land beautiful enough
to wear light as a second skin

(where lies are never discussed
but always shared)

cl

Stitching Wounds with Stringent FeelingsYou breathe me in with desperate, shriveled lungs--
for I am a sordid necessity.
My words are like a salve for judgments hung
so selfishly upon your blatant needs.
And maybe you're a martyr in your eyes--
surprise, I see you lynched by your own thoughts.
Self pity and resentment are a guise
to hide the nothingness that starts to rot
your blackened insides. Take me into you,
feel whole from my magnetic pull towards those
robotic dialogues you think so true.
Just take me in, only the Lord could know
reflections meet you with a deadened stare.
You distant angels never really care.

Comatosethe clock rolls backwards

say hello to cold floors and breathing
ceilings and sleepless nights,
a snowflake city down in flames
and a humming monotony --

fingernails never dug deep enough.

you're stuck on words like I love him and
I miss him and this is it and I
love him I really really love- it's
better to have bled than ghosted
out into the

silence.
those are your thoughts suiciding themselves
under the smother of night, no
veneers can hide your
lines- time carved
you a new face and metered
your breaths;

asphyxiated and strung out by
your own needs, at least you had
the time
to write it all off,

but not before you

Floodgate EyesPlease promise me something better,
even if it is a lie-- sometimes believing
is enough. (sometimes knowing is too
much. tomorrow I will wake up
and travel a little farther down the road
to my own self-destruction. You are
my crutch.)

I won't look back, I'm already wrapped up
in my fears of the moment. An intricate
web of justifications and anxiety is
tethering me to these uncertain feelings.

Would you finally cut me free
if I caved into you? Because
I think I'm getting close.

And I think I read the world all wrong,
but I can still play along.
because selling yourself short never did
anyone harm, and besides, I

Walls Come Tumblingyou've a soul of gold,
a feat untold in our
lonely rusted world

you make clouds more
than a fable- you enable beaten down
dreams to finally soar

you have words like oxygen,
necessary to live, treasures
you would readily give

    we wish upon them all who try to stand so tall.
     in the end, why is it every person seems to fall?
     not you.

I imagine your chest sings
all answers, which your mouth then
tries to translate and share

does your heart grow weighted
or are you really free?
if you're truly so wonderful,
why stick around
with the lost and found?
t

In Piecesrum-lust lips make gentle friends,
words slurred in hands blurred,
burning in between the lines to find
some
drunken concoction of wilted laughs
and heavy sighs, scented sultry
with desperation.

you are that
rasping in my throat when my voice
deteriorates and I am left breathless
and hopeless and raw, my
muscles ache in memory of the
motions to forget-
we do not let go.

and cold beds call, stability,
metal frames and sunken heads –
rest now, rest with
a prayer on your lips you don't
care to share, a dream in
your mind you'll never get back;
rest and the earth will lend you peace
and

you will stop. the rivers will cle

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Unfavorable for Evelyn Taliettefeathers flutter slowly
they don't
crash
the same way people do

they linger, drifting through the breeze
which doesn't favor the angel
stripped of her wings

she grasps, hopelessly
for something that could bring her back
(redemption?)
she believes there has to be something
to take away her past

she grasps, hopelessly
but her fingers only find feathers
which now join her in her fall

gravity doesn't favor angels
with flaws of mankind

and so she falls
crash

Dreams of an AngelI.
"what do angels dream about?" Lindsay asked
I thought for a minute
"they dream to live like us."
"then why did Rachel want to die?"
"goodnight" I said, and turned out the light

Rachel used to sing to the birds
she said sometimes they just wanted someone to show they cared
and she serenaded them
until she was sure they felt important

II.
in the car, Lindsay broke down
the black veil she wore seemed to be more
than an article of mourning
"why do they make child-size coffins?"
"Lindsay—"
"did you see her?
even dead, her spindly fingers reached out
but… I couldn't grab her…"
I held her ha

When Words Escape You"sometimes we look so hard for answers,
we forget the questions.
I lost myself, again, today
swimming in your words...
Maybe this is just me?
Drowning in a steady stream
of undeserved emotions-
paralyzed,
watching my fall with open eyes
regretting every misspent word,
(because, as I just found out-
you're only allotted so many
and I've used all mine up
so I could mope and pout)
Somehow even though I tell myself
in steady hums
the wrongs you've done,
your words take it all away.
I guess I'm blessed
shock inhibits thoughts-
I've already shown myself a fool.
I used to wonder where you were
what you thought, why you left

Reverse Polarity and a Little Bit of FateHe believed in angels
She believed in lies

she was hummingbird-reminiscent
gifted with flight, she strayed from sight
and her secrets were hidden between her rapid wings

He counted his lucky stars
She cursed barren skies

her laugh resonated, hollow
it echoed off the walls she built
to keep intruders out

He fell for her, hopelessly
He dreamed only to make her smile

she pretended he didn't exist
still, he was drawn to her (like a moth,
to bad ideas)

She told him she was too far lost
(Though she was only in denial)

his eyes glinted, golden
bright enough to melt the frozen rock
she had called her

Within Your PalmsMy world exists in your vast hands
I'm under your control.
You make these deadening demands,
but I cannot withhold.
I feel so small in your cold glare
to question this, I couldn't dare...
I feel so small,
I feel so small
I'm breaking, do you even care?

I told myself I fell for your words-

My world exists in your vexed hands,
I'm at your beck and call.
You breed disaster in my lands
just to watch me fall.
It makes you god to act this way-
destroying, tempting, changing fate.
It makes you god,
it makes you god
(try not to break me in your play)

-because I couldn't stand that I fell for you.

My world exists in your cracked ha

A Sky of SmogI.
"what if every star out there, twinkling
is every dream that's ever come true?"
she asked me
"but what about the stars that burn out?"
I replied. She didn't respond.
she was too busy searching the night sky
hoping to catch a dream

II.
"what do you want in a guy?"
I asked one day
when our heads were empty,
but our mouths were full of words
we didn't quite know
"I want someone who can understand me"
and she sighed as though it were only a wish.
"Oh," I said
"I just want to fall in love
so all these stories I write
won't be lies"
and we laughed as though it were only a joke

III.
when she first fell in love,
she flew so

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Submitted: August 2, 2012
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Cyanide Mind

by ~intricately-ordinary, Aug 2, 2012, 8:37:22 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

I lost my voice
choking on my own tongue.
The words still spill out
from my eyes.

I bit my lips raw
hoping to stem the flow,
but ideas still drip
from my fingertips.

A soggy brain leaks, I suppose
and all my thoughts taste like tar

Cyanide Mindby ~intricately-ordinary

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Full of ideas but no mouth to speak them with.

~~love 0 0~~

joy 1 1

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~ThyPoetSorcerer Nov 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

This is amazing, I love poems with few words but high intensity. They are a real challenge to write.

~intricately-ordinary Nov 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Oh my gosh, you know, you are way too sweet

I wrote this on a week when I'd written at least ten poems, all of which were horrendous.

~ThyPoetSorcerer Nov 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

LOL I'm sorry I used Carlo's account. We are chilling at his place.

~intricately-ordinary Nov 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I'M LAUGHING SO HARD RIGHT NOW XD
you are so awesome

really, though, thank you for being so wonderful and kind.

~ThyPoetSorcerer Nov 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

When you say awesome you do mean me, of the two of us?

~intricately-ordinary Nov 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

That whole comment thing is kind of the highlight of my day xD you're awesome, Alec

~ThyPoetSorcerer Nov 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I have my moments... This one was an accident tho. We should really talk one day, I'm curious as to where your astonishing inspiration comes from.

~intricately-ordinary Nov 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

you should definitely send me a note when you're not, you know, on your friend's account

(1 Reply)

~CarloGrims Nov 22, 2012 Student Writer

As much as I love being sweet to you, it wasnt rly my intention. The will to write even on the cusp of death... Only a true writer at heart could think of such an awesome premise

~Wise-lies Sep 1, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

very interesting, never quite seen a poem like this. wonnderrrfuull.

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