[x]

SolsticeOnce upon a time, when you were still sunlighthouses and shimmering existence wherever you were needed most, you found him. He was November, shaky on his first last legs, and you saw through the mind-twistings he feigned to the mind-twistings that were really there, knotted up in his dreams.

You were still birdsong then, and thunderstorms, and your bodyheat melted the frost claws that held him tight. You held onto him as his November deepened. When he howled, you howled with him, and the wind played with your voices and pressed the softness of your lungs against your cageribs—and then against each other's.

November became solstice, and

The Fog"The Fog"

Every one of us has fog in our lives
Some more than others; some of us choke
And no matter the place where we reside
We're always gasping and breathing in smoke

This fog develops and envelops us whole
Blinding our very sense of direction
We often can't see which way to go
So we hide behind our fog's objections

This air becomes too thick to breathe
From the very moment of our youth
And often hidden below and beneath
Is the very essence of elusive truth

But we can not see all the ideals
Walking around lost in a cloudy haze
So we blindly guess at what is real
Hoping that we have found the way

But opaque roads are rocky and littere

To The Beautiful YouTo The Beautiful You:

Here we are, sitting behind these screens of glass,

Reading lines of text, yet smiling, laughing and crying.

It's strange to think that I could have this much fun -

Considering that I've never met you before, but then again

Perhaps that's the reason why I don't have to pretend.

Some people might tell me, that what we have is just a fantasy,

I doubt I'll have the chance to actually see you in this life-time.

But even so, in the time that we've spent together - Well,

I feel as though I've connected with you, more than anyone else.

I feel as though I know you better, than those just a few feet away.

You might tak

the science of usacceleration = gravitational pull / mass

You didn’t send my heartbeat into a frenzy the first time I saw you. It was a month or two before I started feeling the little palpitations inside my chest and made sure that my hand accidentally brushed against yours every now and then.

(I wanted to make sure you got used to the feeling of my atoms colliding with yours.)

I told myself it was stupid and simply physical. You weren’t pulling my heart strings, you were toying with my belt buckle by smiling at me across the room and asking me to spend time with you on a Saturday afternoon. I was sold by the time you pulled into my driveway a

Enlisted"Enlisted"

I received a letter in the mail
Requesting my duties to assail
I took a breath and exhaled
It was time for life to turn a trail

I was fresh out of school
With not a clue what to do
Biting more than I could chew
I wanted to try something new

Before I knew it I enlisted
To fight others sick and twisted
To help others unassisted
With guns or hands tightly-fisted

Once at camp I shaved my head
Still holding thoughts of dread
That before I knew it I'd be dead
And the rose garden would be my bed

Watching faith as it flows
Into the path that I chose
There I went on my own
Roaming now into the vast unknown

Such a shame history repeats

Open Heart SurgeryI've got ink throbbing through fissured veins,
poisoning every atom of my soul.

"Bite your tongue," they say.

How I'd love to chew the damn thing off
and suck down every filthy syllable
just like the rotten bone marrow it is.

They'd all watch as my body spontaneously combusts
and becomes nothing but convoluted karma.

And so I wrote,

"Dear poetry,
Teach me the ways of ripping out a human heart,
and stitching it onto ink-stained parchment."

The answer that came was rasped from a cauterized throat:

"Read your future in the collapsed palm of the stars;
find the abandoned pulse of your lionhearted muse;
steal their conformed scalpel and mak

Mind, oh MindSmiley face, smiley face, can't you ever see?
So much to be sad about, so much that could be
Going wrong for everyone, going wrong for you.
Smiley face, smiley face, don't you feel it too?

Sad face, sad face, can't you ever tell?
So much could be going great, going oh so well
Sad face, sad face, can't you ever see?
Life is spend much better when your thinking thoughts of glee.

Mind, oh mind, why can't you agree?
Thinking everything at once is slowly killing me...

Merry-Go-Round"Merry-Go-Round"

I don't know where I came from
I'm not talking about birth
I'm referring to those times
Before humans walked the earth

What were we before then?
Is there truth to claim?
Was it planned or random chance
I hold my name today?

What kind of power
Created the extremes?
The planets and their moons
And everything inbetween

Why do I come across
The people that I greet?
Is it just by pure luck
Or fate and destiny

Why do old friends exit?
Why do new friends enter?
Our lives are merry-go-rounds
And we're stuck at the center

Why my color eyes?
Why my color skin?
Why the life I lead?
Why these thoughts within?

Why

All EndsIf you cut you'll bleed
If you bleed you'll die
If you're sad you'll smile
And if you smile it's a lie

If you lie you'll live
If you live you'll die
If you cheat you'll win
And if you win you'll cry

If you cry you'll lose
If you lose you'll die
If you run you'll stay
And if you stay you'll fly

If you fly you'll fall
If you fall you'll die
'Cause no-one will catch you
If your life is a lie.

Poetic Failure"Poetic Failure"

I tried to write a poem
But my pen ran out of ink
The neighbors wrecked my home
I simply couldn't think
The bills continue to pile
The sun will not quit shining
These words have no style
Why do I keep trying?
The dog continues barking
It's distracting to my brain
This paper has no markings
This is really such a strain

I don't know what I'm saying
But words are coming out
While I just keep praying
They make sense read aloud
These words are not inspired
By any type of feeling
There's no guidelines required
Nor any type of healing
This poem has no goal
And no ending in sight
I'm sure it's full of holes
W

Autumn AutopsyAs lovers,
we were reckless;
Children
chasing fireflies
in a field of mines.
We traded kisses
and carefree caresses
for shrapnel
and blackened skin.
Short moments
stolen pawned
at the cost
of darker afternoons,
the twilight
of the dying season;
We didn't ask,
we never questioned
the interest
of our expenditures.
I shed my skin
in the Autumn of youth,
peeled back
the viscera and
bared the bone --
Rising up,
a scarecrow of worms
and raw meat,
amongst the stalks
of reddened corn.
Tonight
she clings
to dusty artifacts,
shelved trinkets
and
wrinkled sheets
laden with memories
of decaying potency;
The wisps
rising from the cooling wick
will never be
as sweet as
when the flame
burned brightest.

Hall Of Mirrors"Hall Of Mirrors"

I was once thrown into a hall of mirrors
Surrounding me on every side
I was forced to look deep into my soul
For I had not a place to hide

Every mirror reflected someone different
Some versions were fat or thin
Each version had different color eyes
But none revealed the person within

Some versions were short or tall
Some had me in a tie and suit
Some had me in a summertime shirt
But none revealed the person I knew

Every mirror showed different contrast
And different objects floating in space
Some reflections were lighter than others
But none helped reflect my own face

So finally down on hands and knees
I asked desperat

Missing Pieces.I am a missing piece. Something that someone needs.
But at the same time, I feel so incomplete.
I’ve wandered way too far, wondered for far too long
Am I a missing piece? Or a piece that won’t belong?

Is it possible I’m damaged and not missing at all?
That I’m just as dysfunctional as everybody else?
Pretending to be perfect never softened a single fall.
But neither did admitting that you’re broken and flawed.

A broken missing piece. Is that all I’m meant to be?
There is no master plan that includes the likes of me.
Being all alone, it’s a hurt that will not cease.
A hundred thousand years from now

MuteI rip out my vocal cords
One at a time
With no disregard towards
The blood and gore I'm

Getting on my rotting palms
No one cares anyways
They wouldn't care if I was dropping bombs
They're too wrapped up in their own days

Why make myself mute
Now they can't hear me complain
About my oh so very cute
And insignificant pain

Now they won't need
To suffer anymore
They will be freed
From me, only a constant sore

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child+dreamerChildren, as everybody knows, are big dreamers.
Children live in a world where nothing like horror or tragedy linger behind their trees of candy floss. They live in a world that is only filled with color and pink ponds of reflected happiness, where nothing evil can touch them with shadow fingertips. They are shielded from the world that is reality and live within their own sanctuary of solitude, ignorant to what was beyond the walls of their own euphoric paradise. They knew no better, and so they divulged in their fantasies and lived every day with a smile on their face, ever welcoming a new day that those who had already broken from their fairylands dreaded.
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sally caverly - full profile"If only I could see
Return myself to me
And recognize the poison
In my heart."
- Machine gun, Portishead.
Name: Sally Caverly
Age: Fifteen
Birthday: August 26
Zodiac sign: Virgo
Height: 162.56 cm (5"4')
Weight: 49 kg (100 lbs)
Race: Human
Nationality: American
Occupation: High school student
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Marital status: Single
Family: Ana Caverly (mother) and Robert Caverly (father)
Appearance: One will notice with one glance that Sally is unbecomingly frail.
She isn't a very pretty little thing in the slightest, what with her skeleton-bone fingers and knobby knees— every feature on her body being thin and deathly tiny. She was far worse before she was brought to live in Woodbury, though she still maintains that small, unbecoming look to her even when she arrives in town with access to hot

machinegunnerSally Caverly becomes a different person.
She loses herself to death and gore and the end of the world, and she hardens without a single doubt. Outwardly, there are no traces of the Sally she used to be—no nervously fumbling fingers or constant stutters that clog up the words in her throat. There are no little smiles and there is no longing inside her to become familiar with those around her. Her bones no longer ache for human contact and she no longer strives to emerge from her once teetering shell.
She realizes now what she failed to recognize before. Even with her prodigy intelligence, she never did recognize what was right in front of her the whole time, lurking behind her selfish aspirations of becoming something beautiful—she never recognized that she was meant to only be her own friend. She was meant to simply live in solitude and accept that she was to keep to herself without the touch of another soul, without the words slipping from another mouth.
Sally doesn

ghosts& why are you running, little love?
it's because those voices
there behind me so far away;
those are ghosts
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used to be.

temporary braverySometimes, she finds the courage to do things she never dreamt of doing the day before.
Sometimes, she fights whatever fear tries to consume her and tells herself that the ruffled feathers will settle. She tells herself that not everybody is out there and looking for her like a dog on a hunt, that she can blend in with those around her and be able to live happily among the fields of honey-sweet flowers. She tells herself that she won't be found, that she's allowed to love. That she's allowed to have lights warm up inside her; ignite her fragile bones. She tells herself that she can do what she wants without being weighed down by the iron of her past.
When she get she courage to do these simplistic, happy little things, she fulfills them. She displays her work for everybody to see, proud and beautiful, and feels for a beat of a moment that she can blend in. She even feels the drums of bravery and determination in that moment, a sense of knowing that she can be happy without living with

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Submitted: January 30
Submitted with: Sta.sh Writer

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im a little teapot

by =peachyvomit, Jan 30, 2013, 11:44:27 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

you know i wish it every day
to run back into your
ignited embrace
but im the poison gas to your

fragility

i'll set you ablaze with

licks of fire

my heart is blacker

than hard-boiled ash

so don't touch me

don't you dare

though my tick-

tocking mind screams for me

to trip back into you

my insides know it isn't fair

im not a ribcaged china doll
im not your angel in disguise
ive lied to you in depressed blues
and screamed through manic highs

just promise if you find me out
you wont be mad or cry
im doing this so you can just

- tip me over and

pour

out.

im a little teapotby =peachyvomit

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

instead of being sixteen im burning up
the bible
feeling super, super, super
suicidal
- teen idle, marina and the diamonds.

writing (c) *peachyvomit

love 2 2

~~joy 0 0~~

wow 2 2

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

Flagged as Spam

=peachyvomit Feb 1, 2013

i want to touch your sexy boobs come here

Flagged as Spam

=peachyvomit Feb 1, 2013

literally fuck off omg
spam doushite

~Arashi-taichou Jan 31, 2013 Student Traditional Artist

Oh my goodness.
This is amazing. I love it so much. You have some real talent here.

=peachyvomit Jan 31, 2013

Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it! ♥

~Lunarluminesce Jan 31, 2013

Wonderful. I love the imagery used, the flow of the words, the beat of the verse...it was quite a pleasure to read. And the emotion read through is amazing. Thank you.

=peachyvomit Jan 31, 2013

Thank you so much for your kind comment! It means the world to me that you enjoyed this piece. ♥

Honestly, Thank you!

~Lunarluminesce Jan 31, 2013

It made my evening, so I'm happy my comment could make you happy too

~Corax-x Jan 31, 2013 Student Writer

Wow this is amazing....I'm surprised I haven't seen this before...or seen you on the front page more often

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