Yeah, Yeah I have a theme of short poems....it's because I have to talk too much during the day. So I write short poems to make up for the fact that I spend the rest of my day running my darn mouth.....*winks* Oooh, could I call them ADD friendly poems? Hehe.....
Here we go:
"life"
There is pain mixed
into the batter
bitter and hard.
The cake it makes tastes
like wormwood.
there is bone dust in
the bread; it looks like ashes
and tastes like broken dreams
but I eat it anyway
even though each bite I
take, causes my life to
cry out inside my mouth.
"grin"
I am not sure how to feel
when all my anger comes
screaming up from inside my
basement places.
It feels like there is a rotten
part of me that pulsates
every once and awhile.
I choke back anger and frustration,
I eat them and they sit inside me
like dully gleaming stars.
Sometimes I can't wipe the sneer
off my face, and contempt fills
my eyes, like poisoned water.
I can't repress my hateful smile,
you know, the one that is more a
grimace and not a grin.
"Minverva"
I cannot wait till I am free
I'm stuggling in the grave of
your mind. You're trying to
bury me. I won't have it.
You can't keep me underneath
you anymore. I am on the verge of
breaking you open and breathing.
I am almost alive.
"Safe"
I will keep you safe
locked beneath my skin-
I will hold you in this
velvet prison.
You'll be perfect.
Unscarred.
I will give up everything
to hold you down.
to hurt you into never leaving.
To make you perfect.
To make you only mine.
Safe and Scarred.
a nameless poem
if I could bridge this
gap between us, maybe
things wouldn't seem
quite so lost.
I know I could reach you and
we could clasp hands over
this chasm between us
if only you would reach
for me when I
was reaching for you.
"For Juno, who will always be my killer"
If I thought that
once this thing was over
we'd be safe-I'd be willing
to stop now.
If I thought we could make
it through this unhurt, I'd walk away.
But I can't.
I do know that you are so lovely
I can only look at you
from the corner of my eye.
And I now that I wouldn't
be happy if you weren't cutting me
in little ways. If you weren't
stabbing me I'd forget to breath.
If I thought I could go on without
your knife in me, I would.
I'd leave.
I just can't.
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