The poem as prey, as blood luscious, elusive. The poem as the locked room.
37 posts
What Can Life Offer Anyway
What can life offer anyway
That I can't have with you in death?
What feels more like home anyway
Than it does besides your grave?
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More Posts from Unlikelyanonymous
What am I?
A strange thing to wonder
I'm the anger of my father,
And the silent cries of my mother.
I'm the broken pieces of childhood,
Of a once happy daughter.
Tw: self harm, ed
Alternate universe
In an alternate universe,
I am 14 and alone in my room,
And my hands haven't harmed myself yet.
In an alternate universe,
My mom isn't emotionally dead,
And my dad isn't the monster yet.
In an alternate universe,
I still have her by my side,
I haven't screwed everything yet.
In an alternate universe,
I don't flinch when I look in the mirror,
There are no scars on my thighs yet.
In an alternate universe,
I still eat like a normal person,
I haven't ruined myself yet.
The grave that I call my home
Where love doesn't exist.
The monster that I call my father
For whom peace doesn't exist.
The demon that I call my mother
For whom compassion doesn't exist.
The nightmare that I call my world
For which I dont exist.
The despair that I call myself
For whom joy doesnt exist.
The curse that I call my life
Where living doesn't exist.
And I wonder
Your voice so sweet through a telephone.
Your presence is a comfort, oh it feels like home.
Dancing on your roof while it's raining above.
And i wonder if you feel it grow.
Your touch like velvet, would I ever refrain?
Honey brown eyes, oh they drive me insane.
A nasty chase and we meet again.
And I wonder if you'd like to stay.
Your skin shines bright like an afterglow.
Your laugh's a symphony, oh I wish I could own.
Your love is a cure, I'm a ruined soul.
And I wonder if you'll ever know.
Him
He was butterflies.
He was anxiety.
He was silent cries.
He was that feeling of empty.
He was reliance.
He was trouble.
He was treacherous.
He was loyal.
He was steady.
He was unstable.
He was needy.
He was unpredictable.
He was my almost lover.
He was a goddamn nightmare.
He was a million little emotions.
Mixed into a disconsolate one.