[x]

Waiting for a coach
and four
that never came,
she realized
a ball gown
won't bloom
out of sackloth;
glass slippers
are not dependable
and mice
are best left
to their own devices.
Midnight was never a friend,
and under that suit
he is the same as any other
man.

IcarusSun girl,

the whispering stars
& feathered clouds dance
for you tonight.

Do not let anyone
clip your wings;

you were made for the skies.

Definition of a Writerwrit•er

noun /rītər/

A writer is a person
Who sees the world differently
From a high perspective of understanding
To an easily balanced imagery

They stand at the edge of the cliff
And run that extra mile
To gain what a normal person cannot see
And to obtain the hope that they wish to cherish

A writer is a person
Who buries their ego and places boulders upon it
They learn the rules, follow the rules, and will break the rules
And make writing their own

They lay upon the dusty old ground of a graveyard
And do an annual ritual to free the inspiration that has been pinned down
They want to show their abnormality to everyone

Red DressDon’t put on your red dress
for he doesn’t know the meaning
he doesn’t want the commitment
he doesn’t care for the color.

The red dress you love to wear
that’s stained from wine and beer
but still carries so much meaning
for who could find a second red dress

Don’t go out on your red dress
for the man who wants nothing more
to screw around and doesn’t understand
the meaning behind a simple red dress.

A red dress for when you dance.
A red dress for when you cry.
A red dress for when you need it.
A red dress for when you care too much.

Don’t put on your red dress for him darling
he doesn&rsqu

moonshines in georgiaman on the moon:

giddy with lumps of north georgia seas
greased on the crease of my lips
gravity drips from couch-cavities
when tides belch from below --

burst on the water's edge,
earth's bourbon sailors retch in moonshined ripples
trickled blue murder on their crinkled crimes;
raking water wrinkles like a wayward drunk
stuck on sunken bootleggin' dreams.

it's been a long, long time
since I've drowned your hemisphere
for fishing like a moonraker,
swishing my bait-lines like tobacco's
squished in your shallow gums
before you dare to down my air
breathing in this sincere georgia night.

L.E.S.B.I.A.N.Living on the
Edge of life
Saving myself
Being who
I truly am
As it is all i can be
Never forget that

Broken Birds and Stark PhrasesWe slip and slide and fall
down curves and carrow places.
We cursive at the wall
in our undefinéd spaces.

Disjointed limbs extend
to strumpet our arrival,
to warn who are not friends
we will kill to survive all.

Hung upside-down haunters
hug branches in the Forrest.
Merry nightmare monsters,
Cheery snarling chorus,

Arachnic children know;
you can run but you can't hide
from this disparic truth,
darkness waits for you inside.

Although you seek the sun,
as all creaky spinsters might,
the night can't be out done
and it has you in its sight.

Missing piecesMissing pieces

There are wounds
that never heal; silences
so loud they thunder - I stopped
breathing years ago, that night
the ice took my chest. Since then
I walk in pieces, howling
around my heart.

-SophieCT, 2012, 2013

Blame The ParentsI won't be able to keep a relationship in the future because I'm scared
I'm scared it'll turn out like theirs

I'm a pacifist because I hate watching it
I hate watching them fight

I have PTSD because of their fights
Their fights almost broke up this family

I self harm because they are pushing me over the edge
I was already close to jumping, but they gave me an extra push

I'm always in my room because that's how I run away
I guess that's called "Like father, like daughter"

I only eat one meal a day because he constantly puts me down
Even though he's joking, I can tell he means every bit of what he says

I can't trust anyone because they do

field notesi read some poetry
just for the sound--for the words lilting up and down
and the thick, honeysepia
polaroids unmisting in my head.
those are the poems i never understand
and the only conclusion i can draw is:
there is apparently
some supernova poetic awakening that comes
with the loss of virginity
and basically i need to get laid.

MorningA black cat sleeps in a ray of sun
My coffee is lousy
Another cardboard morning
The day isn't a blank canvas
Waiting to be painted
Its already scrawled with
Yesterday's mad crayon drawings

Smoke drifts up and out of the window
I drink the coffee

The PoetFor the work of a Poet to be truly appreciated
he must write it with his own blood and tears for ink
his soul the sharpened quill to nail the words
like so many specimen of unwilling insects upon the paper.

And once he has bled out
becoming the cause of his own demise
the reader is left behind to digest his soul
so plainly trapped within a cage of words
his requiem written as a love song to his Muse.

van houten must be godi. you know how in embroidered cloth,
from the bottom under the design,
all you see are knots? her honey-like,
crying
voice lulls me to sleep,
that's what we see of God's plan.
just the knots. when in reality,
it's the design on top;
beautiful and flawless that He
has in store for us.
bullshit.
i learnt that word
when i was three
but every time i said it,
my face hurt and mom's hand fell.
God will put you
in hell.
do you want that?
i knew better than to say it again.
ii. you're an estimated
fallacy, the perfect
misconception.
you don't need to exist
for people to believe.
they make you real with
dancing tongues behind
a crowd
of murmuring lips of
god's will.
iii. of the rain,
i sang songs, whispering
prayers only you
could hear.
if you truly are
what they say for you to be,
then there are no secrets
between you and me.
mother still sings
the same songs
in the rain, hoping
you'll hear her the way
i thought you would.
but she doesn't know you died long ago
with chiv

thieves of nocturne skiesPaper lanterns are midnight requiems
That tell me to look beyond the
light and have &

Monday, Erased and Re-WrittenDawn broke brittle Monday morning, the sky cracked like eggs
(All done in silence beneath the roaring of my tinnitus)
Twenty 'til something and I'm driving out into blazing light
Looking for what, I won't know 'til its found but its
Just so damned bright and quiet and I think of a sniper in the clock tower
Fallen asleep waiting to pick off his targets but how can he sleep
in this goddamned brightness and nothings moving anywhere
Empty streets, has the world called in sick this morning?

Am I awake? Am I alive? Am I in a movie, maybe a character
in someone's book? Why don't I feel anything? Am I waiting for
the writer to tell me how I feel,

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Never Will YouNever Will You

Hello again stranger from the past who broke my heart to pieces.
Tell me how you're doing as of late; I truly don't give a fuck about you.
I'll just pretend that nothing happened between us; it was just a dream.
But I can't simply accept that lie for I know the truth with my own eyes.
Keep on talking, keep on trying to get closer to me, it won't work.
I've placed a fine wall between you and me; my heart is occupied.
Don't really care for your being anymore like I used to before.
You can simply rot for all I know; sleeping with your friend's boyfriend.
I'm tired of the fake friendship we have after our falling apart tha

It's Gonna Be OkayIt's Gonna Be Okay

I can hear it in your voice that your composure is lost.
No longer does it ring with happiness, but instead replaced with hate.
Wanting to get rid of certain people in your life; I know what's on your mind.
Sick and tired of dealing with everyone's mess that it's so trivial.
I know what you're going through; been there and back many times.
You know right now you're in the rough, but I promise you that at the end:
It's gonna be okay, the sun will return to your sky and warm your skin.
It's gonna be okay, your smile will return and replace that ugly frown.
It's gonna be okay, the world will begin to spin in normal ro

Sound Of My VoiceSound Of My Voice

Listen to my voice resonate from my throat.
Can you hear the sound that I'm hiding between words?
Agony and pain wrapped into one, covered by a charade.
Happy, bouncy, ridiculously fake yet you believe it.
Never bothered to really listen to the tone of my voice.
Always thinking that I'm alright when secretly I'm dying.
Trying my best not to reach out for that razor blade.
Cut my skin open, watch all of my emotions run dry.
Even when I shed tears in front of you; questions never asked.
Clap, clap, clap is all you do even when I yell to stop.
What would it take for you to realize that I'm screaming for help?
Must I

How I Feel InsideHow I Feel Inside

Somehow I don't really feel like myself recently.
It's like on the outside I'm full of life and joy.
Yet inwardly in my soul I feel like I'm crushed.
Feels like I got my heart ripped right out my chest.
Leaving behind the blood to keep me alive and pain.
Though I shouldn't be feeling like this at all.
Everything is finally going right in my life.
No wrong has come across me at this moment.
Maybe I'm just hallucinating it all in my head?

I try to listen to my music with a smile on my face.
Tried my best to sing along to my favorite track.
But half way through I lose interest and feel like crap.
The sun shining hi

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Still There

by ~LostLove223, Dec 31, 2008, 1:11:56 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

Still There

I find myself thinking about you late into the night.
Of the once summer romance that we had together.
Two individuals coming from different worlds.
Meshing in with one another to make whole.
And for a while, it was going really well.

Hit a couple of bumps here and there.
Nothing too bad to overcome together.
But then suddenly it went downhill on us.
No warning signs present ahead of time.
We just stopped, no, more like you.

Called you over the phone and told me you had to leave.
Someone from your past came back wanting you.
A promise you made to yourself to never forget.
And without a fight, I let you tear my heart apart.
Didn't shed the tears, but you were doing it for us.

Now the times have passed and I've grown different.
Thought that I heard the last from you.
But goes to find out I was wrong.
Found out news of you dating a chick.
Making what small moment we had for naught.

Someone came back to me and I gave them a second chance.
Only to find out that my heart would break yet again.
In the meantime you found someone new, way older than me.
Plus on the side, you still have those feelings for me.
Though I'll never know if they're true or not.

And now I find myself writing about you late into the night.
Thinking of that one summer romance we both had.
Two individuals coming together to make whole.
Though now deemed impossible due to time.
No matter how far I travel away from you,
You'll always still be in my heart and mind...

Written on: 12/29/08
Edited on: 12/31/08

Still Thereby ~LostLove223

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

©2008-2013 ~LostLove223

So this one is about Johnathan and one of the reasons why I've been bummed out for a lil while. For some odd reason I'm missing him as a friend, but not as my boyfriend.

Anyways, with that said, hope you enjoyed the read.

Comments and

s always appreciated.

"I find myself thinking about you late into the night..."

~~joy 0 0~~

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~savior22 Jan 2, 2009

I agree what ~GWARins-Knight commented.
Its quite true. Wounds heal but scars still remain

Way to go Berto Nice one!!

Reply

~LostLove223 Jan 2, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

That is indeed very true especially with me considering that my scars never go away.

Thanks ^_^

Reply

~savior22 Jan 4, 2009

Dont worry I told you your good time will come soon

Reply

~LostLove223 Jan 4, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

Yes. Maybe one day.

Reply

~savior22 Jan 5, 2009

Reply

~LostLove223 Jan 6, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

Reply

~GWARins-Knight Dec 31, 2008

Man, it's just awful the way failed relationships kill off regular friendships ._.

Reply

~LostLove223 Dec 31, 2008 Hobbyist Writer

Yeah, that is indeed true, but unfortunately it tends to happen.

Reply

~GWARins-Knight Jan 2, 2009

Oh yeah, it happens like a motherfucker

Reply

~LostLove223 Jan 2, 2009 Hobbyist Writer

Mhmm.

Reply

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