Eye-catching

I forgot to do one yesterday (my bad), so I’ll do two today instead.

#8: Write about two people seeing each other for the first time.


Your eyes seduce me,
Alluring and seductive,
The hint of embers in your dark eyes hold no remorse,
No hesitation as they pull me in.

Your eyes lure me in,
Never once blinking away,
Your stare burning into my eyes,
Your grasp searing my skin into yours.

Your eyes entrap me,
The smoky look in your eyes,
As you grab me close towards you,
Almost as if you are afraid I will flee.

(Don’t worry I will not leave.)
(I am yours for all eternity.)
(Even if my flesh turns to mud.)
(Even if my heart turns to ash.)

Advertisements

I am.

#6: Change your point of view.


Don’t tell me what to do, you little piece of shit.
I know exactly what’s going through your head right now.
Yeah? It ain’t good, ain’t it.
You’re going to get it now.

What? You think I’m not good enough for you?
Bullshit, I’ve always been good enough,
Better, actually,
You’ve just never been good enough for me.

You think you deserve all this?
All your friends and your family,
You think you deserve them?
What have you done to deserve them?

You want to run, huh?
You’ll never be able to run away from me.
No matter how hard you try,
You can never run away from the truth.

You want to be better for me?
Then suck it up and work so that you deserve me,
Because you will never be worthy of your heart,
Unless you sacrifice everything you have.

Love.

I said I was going to do five yesterday, but then realised I don’t have it in me to write five in one go. Instead, I’ll write two today.

#5: Rant about love.


What is love but an illusion of the mind, an illusion of society?
Its only reason for existing is to delude us into faith
while the world around us crumbles into nothingness.

What is love but meaningless happiness?
Its only purpose is to bind us together
Even if it drags us down to Hell.

What is love but an impossible challenge?
Forcing us to always hope for a rarity
And always disappointing us in the end?

What is love but a spice of life?
Unneeded but
Flavourless without.

What is love
But without it
No one is alive.

Calm me,

#2: Water.

In a way, a continuation of an old poem I’ve written called Blue.


Calm me, water.
Bring me to peace,
Bring my thoughts to a still,
Give me the resonance of the waves,
Of a never-ending shore.

Calm me, water.
Give me the air in my lungs,
Fill them with water,
Not knowing what it is,
Delude me into life.

Calm me, water.
Give me peace,
From the endless war of life and death,
Give one its victory,
And tell me the score.

Calm me, water.
Give me an illusion,
Of a still life,
Let me dive deep
And help me find my soul.

Kill me, water.
Bring me to peace,
Bring my thoughts to a still,
Give me the resonance of the waves,
Of a never-ending shore.

You were right about me,

#1: You were right about me.


You were right about me,
I was not the ever-loving girl everyone says,
Not the kind but shy one in the corner,
Not the reliable one everyone goes to.

You were right about me,
I stabbed those who crossed me,
I brought the ones closest down to Hell,
I sent them away,
Only for them to come back burnt to a crisp,
(Perfect like pork).

You were right about me,
I could not help you
When the world was against you.
I shunned you
Not out of hatred
But out of pity.

You were right about me,
But you were looking through stained glass,
A cracked one,
Distorting your sight,
Turning the little girl into a monster.

You were right about me,
You were wrong about me.

Reading poems by other people

Has made me feel so small. The number of words that go into each poem, times by a million, could drown me as a tsunami would.

It’s interesting, overwhelming. The words that pass my lips would never be able to amount to anything special, or so I feel.

I feel as if I am merely deluding myself that the words I say are important, that the words everyone else say are important.

Perhaps they aren’t. But that doesn’t stop the wave from crashing down upon us.

I love you

Three words,
a statement so hollow,
yet it contains my very soul.

I wish to say how much I care,
but I cannot say,
I must do.
I must cut out my heart and give it to you.

I wish to say how important you are,
but you are,
and no words
can carry such weight.

I wish to say how much I think about you,
but when I do,
I’m speechless,
because my thoughts are full of only you.

I wish to say how much I know you,
but if I tell you,
tears will flow from my eyes
and they will never seem to stop.

I love you.
Three words,
a statement so hollow,
yet it contains my very heart.

Life
through
the eyes of misery
is a bit
too poetic.

The grandeur of glory
and rambling cries
with bleeding boots
marching on the field
and a bullet to pierce the frontal lobe.

The heightened passion
reaching for a climax
between flesh and cloth
of rhythmic breath
and lubrication by male ejaculation.

To portray the dazzling canines
of a baby with delicacy
and the forlorn gaze
that watch over the birth,
the placenta peeling off the uterus.

The toe-curling death and
with an explosion of laughter.

Life is a bit too poetic.
But perhaps,
an unpoetic life
is no life at all.

For the Earth

Who entertain us with tidal waves
exciting for kids
and surfers
perfect for running.

Let’s not forget the volcanoes
for keeping us warm
on winter days,
launching personal heaters
for each and every one of us.

What a kind host to provide tornadoes
on a sunny day
keeping us cool
when the night gets too hot.

And the tremors that
start all of this,
signalling the Earth’s rousing
between great lengths of slumber.

Thank you,
oh gracious Earth,
I am very quite pleased
to call you home.

My Thoughts

I welcome you aboard
even if you are not worthy
you should be proud to be here
what a disgrace
I’m honored to be your colleague.
Fuck off.

You look so beautiful!
What a pig.
Isn’t she just glowing?
Fatter than the glowing sun.
What a model!
Such a my horrid word!

Isn’t he cute?
Quite the contrary.
He’s so kind!
Very much so an asshole.
I’d love to date him!
Why, what a good choice!

What do you think?
My thoughts
are not
my own.