[x]

Fervid AwakeningThere's a fire beneath my feet,
but not the kind that burns
mountains and ruins girls
made of papier-mâché—no,

these are the sparks that
drive the insane to dance in
the rain; the flames that
gave birth to a million voices
itching to be heard, too.

It's spreading, settling, somewhere deep
beneath my sternum, like an anticipatory
story, waiting to be told, giving
my heart the ardor to beat.
-
No one ever says happiness
is like a butterfly: beautiful,
flighty, and fleeting.

If you let it slip through your
fingers—you are left
alone, palms full of feathery dust
which soon fades and leads to the scary

Keepers of My Hearti.
you are in love with being in love
like you're caught on the train tracks,
tied down by want, waiting for that
insistent collision to
steal you away into the land
of concussions and self-medication
and hearts that barely heal

ii.
and stories confessing the notches
in your bedpost, the lines in
your smile. the sour note in your
liberally dissonant melody.

iii.
you did not want tangibility

cotton trees cascading and butterfly
innards, serenading clouds and
fluorescent lips
(until the sky came crashing down
and you reoriented the earth)

iv.
you did not want me

v.
I am solid and as notable as
the ghosts sleeping in y

DFC Day 2: MarieOf calm and quiet breath, she waits
trusting, atop her stable ocean's bed
where salty whispers gently guide her head
and drag her down with their assented bait;
but still, her lungs weigh down like lead.
(she smiles, the waves plunder her teeth
the fish consume her eyes, and yet she sings
them lullabies) She lives all her endings
again, to make them new, to dream-repeat
the memories before her mute drowning.
They ask her, darling, dive lower
she sleeps, she longs, she breathes once more --
she cries (her tears divide the ocean floor.)
The water-logged prey lent her voice today,
now it complies with the whispered tides.

appropriately appallingi
the flies are in the food, again.
festering, feeding- because i sewed
shut my lips when you warned me
they were a gaping wound.

silence is the best kind of infection;
you can't know what's kept inside

ii
i carry little girl dreams
of dying and coming back
diseased, depraved, an atrocity;
at least then I'd be something
worth writing home about

i deserve more than what
i am- i am selfish and
greedy, but not strong
enough
to steal a life worth living

(look at me now, mom
i'm growing into the
ugly thoughts i birthed.
i think this is what it must feel like
to finally follow through)

iii
there are things you never say:

scraps and sacramentsyou,
beautiful siren girl with melodies
entangled in her hair: you are
shell-shocked and sea-struck
even though you cannot stand
the sensation of sand beneath
your toes.

you have fingers for prying, picking,
pulling at your skin and nesting
in that hollow space between
your bones. and if anyone asks,
you will swear there are monsters
sleeping in the concaves of your ribs;
there are ghosts beneath your tongue,
embittered, and you are not the words
you speak.

they say there is an answer, little girl
(sometimes you begin to believe you are
a scarecrow on the border of reality
begging people to turn the other way;
and the mirror will agree)

WelcomeI'm ready for a romance to ravage my heart and tear apart my
dusty limbs, I'm waiting for someone to take my breath and
never give it back; I'm prepared to sell all I was for a trip
somewhere new - beyond the paper mistakes I sailed away
down the river long ago. (even rocks and leaden thoughts
won't let the truth sink.)

I left my being somewhere under a waning summer sun
when the trees hummed melodies of moving on;
my soul still stays there, porous and pining and
lost. Dying stars don't lead home.

I suppose
it's more than just losing
your words, it's losing
you

too.

I am someone who mourns Sunday morning for another lost
w

RestlessI’ve been living in the same breathy dream
for too many days now; I’m bed-ridden and
stale and I reek of those moments that come
full throttle like a car crash on a winter night

   this is evolution where weak hearts
   are afraid of the shadows and where
   everything changes,
   an apologetic wind births no remorse;
   he will move on—anchored ship
   set sail, I am the sunken wreckage
   that never learned how to swim.
   he will move on, Darwin says
   I never had a chance

I wish I were the textbook sadness,
symptom and solution and endurance
but I’ve spent too long sleeping on the

Staying for the Seasonyou were born
of a broken cradle
where no one taught you
how to breathe

you need the stars
like nourishment, but
they just don't feel
the same

you live like a heart attack,
an insufferable shuddering,
a socially aware illness without
the will to pull through

it's a sad truth when we
look up in the mirror, and
only see ourselves-

but it's okay.
write it on the walls, it's
okay, you just need a
little more sleep.

(wake up. it's nearly
December and you're
already dead.)

Spotlessone day you'll fly a little too close to the sun
and you'll remember the boy who told you
gas station trinkets were worth more than
the heart you wore on your sleeve.

disillusionment will take you home, and
it will not leave your bed in the morning.
(you will remember he called you loose, too.)

you are the one who believes in smoke
smiles and candid cadavers. no ones'
nose grows, so everyone must be
undeniably true (except

you lie to yourself, too)

a few lifetimes ago you fell in love
with your own reflection, but as you
stripped away layers of common mis-
conceptions, you realized you are not

virtuous and radiant and hung o

Nighttime Ramblings and InsufficiencyYou drop your jaw,
and you pull words out from
hiding, deep in your throat.
You wretch up a mass of
unfiltered, unedited, reality
because you believe that's what it is
to be understood.

You leave a trail of mutterings
wherever you go
no one will ever want me
it's not enough
and i'm sorry, i'm
so so sorry
Do you remember the difference between
a shadow and a ghost? (the world ends
the day the sun won't shine)

Instead of sleeping (maybe
tomorrow won't come if you
don't say goodnight) you wait;
you will not be remembered, and
that is the scariest part-
you were never loud enough.
i'm s

Undedicatedi
I wrote you a poem.

skeleton smile-- moonbeams
drip from your unharnessed
habilitations; you speak and
ravens tear through your throat
(I will be there) you are
a catalyst whose ghost eyes
died for a better day

ii
unaware promise bearer, take
me away. as you live these
beautiful vanities, take me
away

somewhere refined and romantic
like the lies you languish, where
a heavy heart weighs up to
something nice

iii
primed and pruned, I am
a seedling: an exaltation to
all that is you

we both cry the same kind
of quiet, and whisper the same brand
of please-don’t-listen-close; I
just want to leave before I break
when you [do it firs

Amnesiacsmaybe you forgot how to
wake up without screaming.

she smiles like a broken dawn
and the meek will inherit the
earth, if they don't drown,
first. she's barely breathing;
trying to grow gills because
it's only in the state of dying
that we adapt.

and you won't see the colors
pouring out of her chest, you
won't hear the ebbing swansong
she hums so quietly.

you didn't come to be reminded.

you inject a little further, a little
closer to the heart. numb.

(she died the day she
was given a name)

she made you promise never
to be a number, or a majority;
she made your heart beat in a way
that made you think you were alive,

Indefinite Tidesshe speaks in vinegar riddles
and bides her time in shipwrecked
smiles- she's
ticking off days for the boy
with stormy eyes who promised
he'd be back in a season or
two. he, who was

crafted from the leftover bits of the moon
and the meandering sky with runaway
stars lurking deep beneath his ribcage,
waiting to fall whenever he spoke
like a saint, whose divine sacraments
parted land and birthed lives; like a
sorcerer whose words launched a
thousand sunken ships but

now, she pops pills like reminders,
stabilizers that last 4-6 hours
depending on her ability to forget

and she's lost in herself
again, among faltering brainwa

Like Cartoon LoversHe strums his guitar
outside the art shop, waiting
for her as he sings
about lost country roads
and crucified thieves
finding redemption,
his mucked boots scuffing
the sidewalk.

She comes out
during her smoke break—
skirt fluttering about her legs,
head haloed by a red bandana,
sandled feet displaying
a pentagram tattoo
above her toes.

Her fingers go to the beads
around her neck and slip them
between her teeth, rolling
them with her tongue,
her lips curving into
a slanted smile.

He stops strumming,
and they head to the back
of the shop.

His kisses fill her up.
Bubbles erupt inside at
the sound of his Southern drawl
as he te

NightmareI woke from a terrible sleep – I dreamed
I was born from
wisps of nature's indifference and
knowledge found freely
from

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More from ~intricately-ordinary

EclipsingI'd probably forge my whole heart, anew
if you only asked

but you're out of words, tonight
the stars are shining much too bright
unlike you've ever seen before
if you blink, you'll miss them
don't blink
you'll miss them

(you have already missed enough
to make you wonder what's really left)

your eyes are shining
reflections
of everything you hope to be—
so you cannot see me.

and sometimes I wish
you'd just shut your eyes
because they say resting
is the greatest relief

when you can sleep,
and let go of everything you've ever seen before
for something more

and something dark
because it's there, I stay
laying in wait

Frozen Obligationsyour hand on the door, you whisper
with breath reeking of buyer's remorse
"it's better this way,
you need a guy who won't make you cry—
you need a guy who wants to stay"
and you believe it

goosebumps spread on your arms
from the chill of frozen eyes
and words can't make it better, but—
"it never would have worked, anyway
you need more than I could ever give.
you deserve better than me."

and you don't acknowledge your broken logic.
(because once, you would've given the world.
but pouty lips and honeyed words aren't
as sweet as you remembered.)
and maybe you've convinced yourself
that if you're so eager to leave,
it'

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

Beginnings and Endings Both Sound the SameI woke up this morning
and the sky was falling
I cried, because
it was bleeding, too
(and I wondered what happened to God
to make him shed such painful tears)

but they said it was only a sunrise
and I was being too loud.
I asked why it was that solar rays
ran in rivulets throughout
prominent moments of time
(like wars and funerals and departures
and those heavy events we pretend never happened)
but they ignored my cries
and the sunbeams that were entangled in my feet
and trailing behind me,
showing all the wrong turns I made
(they wouldn't see my limbs
raw, ragged, from running
with no destination in mind)

I guess I was a

Without Wingsshe spoke in lullabies
and breathed out wishes-
she hoped and prayed for fairytales so often
you could trace the dreams in her veins
she strived for worlds that didn't exist
and she lost her heart without being aware
she ever gave it
up.

she needed to run away-
because she lived in a house of mirrors
and she was scared of the sight
of her own face

she had to teach herself to walk
but she couldn't run
(or fly)
and she was stuck, grounded
watching time pass her by
sometimes you forget how to count
the days

she withered away
her veins, barren of dreams
her eyes glossed over till she was nearly blind
too apathetic

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

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Submitted: October 24, 2012
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and He believed

by ~intricately-ordinary, Oct 24, 2012, 9:02:56 PM
Literature / Poetry / Narrative / Free Verse

along the road to change, you decide:
you lack a heart. your voice will
tear the world asunder. you
wreak havoc on the unassuming,
because you stopped trusting in
institutional stability the day
God poured over you.

He cleansed you in his tears, He said
He built you strong- it was
an obligation with weighted
requirements. He drove nails into
your flesh to test your faith,
you were pained and you were
perfect.

you were a prize, a person to
swallow lechery and lead our world
into redemption; you would tempt us
from our questions why

everyone needs a Hero
(but who do you have?)

-

I cared about you, once, when
you were unbroken and not yet
perfect; when you still believed
the sun had a reason it rose.

but you never felt a thing because
when God drove into you, He whispered
away all human instincts

(no one should ever have to love
a shattered world)

and He believedby ~intricately-ordinary

Literature / Poetry / Narrative / Free Verse

A lot of thoughts coalesced in this piece.
I don't know where my brain is going anymore.

~~love 0 0~~

~~joy 0 0~~

wow 1 1

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~MozartsNemesis Nov 21, 2012

wanna know why I adore you? Every time I come back and re-read one of your poems, I find something new, something that hadnt occurred to me before. This really is wonderful.

~intricately-ordinary Nov 21, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

goodness, you are far too kind. thank you so much, I think I'm going to keep this comment in my message box for few months so I can look at it whenever I feel low

~confidenceAlive Oct 26, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Wow. I'm not even sure what to say that hasn't already been said.. I really love the mish-mash of concepts in this, leaves one a lot to think about

~intricately-ordinary Oct 26, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

If it left you thinking, then I am very very happy. Thank you so much for your comment, it really means a lot to me

~confidenceAlive Oct 26, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank-YOU for sharing yourself (:

=ZaquiaStorm Oct 25, 2012

For a moment, I thought this was a religions piece, and I wasn't sure what to think about that idea. But the more I read, the less it seemed so, and the more it seemed to be from the viewpoint of a friend, talking to someone who was once very logical and critically thinking, only to accept God into his life and change all of that, and no longer look for reason in things, no longer dislike the broken pieces in the world, but instead, loving what's ruined because God has said to do so.

It just...

Wow.

~intricately-ordinary Oct 26, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I really really love your interpretation of this piece. To be honest, I hadn't even thought of it as such; but the fact you can pull such a beautiful and inspiring message makes me happier than you know.
As always... thank you for your support. It really means the world to me, I am so lucky to have a friend like you

=ZaquiaStorm Oct 26, 2012

*0hgravity Oct 25, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

hmmm I really like the character here - I think this "you" is presented very well. I saw them as someone once looked up to or respected and admired rather but then the dissatisfaction in the person caused them to change into a shadow of their former self. There seems to be a certain sadness or disappointment in the narrators voice. I don't know - that's the sense I got out of it.

an interesting piece and one I think will have different meaning for different people. perhaps a different meaning for each read, even!

~intricately-ordinary Oct 26, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you for such a thoughtful comment. That was really my intention. Someone who tried too hard, and broke; and a longing in the narrator for the time before that.

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