[x]

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

For every boy I ever kissedi.

you took my hand 'neath the magnolia
at a christmas dinner party I held.
your mouth was cold. so were my affections.

ii.

you were the first man to listen to me.
i let you listen to my heartbeat; but
when the day fell away, you bruised me deep.

iii.

you were my safe harbour, and i your storm
turning your misery to naught but air
but i squirmed away from your tongue, repulsed.

iv.

you were my cradle, when i couldn't sleep
you would hold me close and pray for something,
anything, to keep me safe. (it was you).

v.

eleven months spent sleeping with my phone,
i still couldn't believe when you kissed me
even after midnight struck us agai

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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

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.

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

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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One Thing I Don't NeedI don't need your enticing lips against mine,
I don't need your rough grasp around my waist,
How much longer can I keep in the tears?
How much longer must I let my bloodlust clear?
If I drag the knife a little deeper,
Will your love pour out like rain?
I don't need your sorrow filled eyes,
I don't need your coarse voice,
How many days till I rip out my heart?
How many days till it tears me apart?
If I lap up your pride,
Will it replace all the pity?

Childhood Pt. 1The blackness fogged his gaze, he whimpered, holding his head, pulling his hand away to stare in horror at the dark scarlett mess smeared across his palm, "Y-you..." He stuttered, looking up at the man towering over him, "You hit me..." He finished, voice quiet and soft. Finally the dark haze faded and he could see and think clearly, he'd never been hit before...not like this. He looked up at his uncle, eyes wide. This man was not someone he wanted to run to after his Grandmother had died, nor was he a man who luminated with pure guidence and strength. He stared at the blood, feeling queasy.
The man growled, "Next time, you do as your Aunt M

Liquid CopperLiquid copper
slides down your cheeks
and as I reach up
I realize that I have melted into
the pavement without
you
without my heart
without my
home.
I wont be watching
I wont be there to hear your scream

Symphony Of InsomniaThe hushed and hubristic hiss of heat, from beneath the heavy patter of feet.
Crystallized lightning comes crashing down, lighting up this night-time town.
Soft words from spring song-birds, 'a woo', 'a woo', the moon yells too.
Harsh prayers that confess to all of this distress, hasty howls that caress.
A crack of thunder here, the whistling wind is full of fear.
Silence stomps in and stiffly interrupts the chaotic symphony.
And with each soundless step, your mind begins to slowly fret,
about the sounds of insomnia.

My Trip Into MarchI indulge in painting clown grins on
the Reaper's ivory
expression.

Stepping into March, I am wrapped in shock.
The cold claws at my skin until I bleed
Frost Bite.

Seven Minutes, Till 3 Years.

As Cherry blossoms kiss fingertips of cream and sugar,
the wind gives a veracious
greeting to my hair.

As I fall into July and out stretch my arms to embrace it,
sun rays drip onto velvet fields and arrays of
clever tauntings.

TensionThe burn of candle wax sears
Over my scarred skin,
Your tears still staining
My bleeding throat,
And I can't help but let
A sick smile infect my
Expression.

It hurt & I knew you would scream
You struggled.
I should have done it slow,
-but let me fill you in on a
little secret.
It wouldn't have killed the
Tension.

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Euthanized

by ~Eldritch-Fox, Aug 16, 2011, 11:37:37 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

This game
You play, long nights
Short temper, little fights

Red-zone
Heart eater, sick puppy
Kick me when I'm down, honey.

You see me as a carnage target
Blood red, right to the center.
You're a lovesick tormentor.

And I'll never love anyone else.

Euthanizedby ~Eldritch-Fox

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

Ohhhoho, where did you come from?

Sorry for the confusing poetry, I'm just writing what comes from my head.

It's pretty raw, considering I take no time to think about it

love 2 2

~~joy 0 0~~

wow 1 1

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~MisplacedFox Sep 7, 2011

raw and great !

~TGfascinated Aug 18, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

It's not confusing, it makes perfect sense. It's a wonderful sketch of the psyche of someone who stays in an abusive relationship... and goes back and goes back and goes back...

~Eldritch-Fox Aug 21, 2011 Student Writer

_{you understand it! Oh wonderful! I was worried I was getting a bit, out of touch... or, something among those lines.

<3 I wish I could produce something better, but...alas, nothing has come from my pen, or my mind. : (}

~TGfascinated Aug 21, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

It's pretty good, Abbs. Don't be disappointed in it all.

~Eldritch-Fox Aug 21, 2011 Student Writer

_{thank you (:
really. It means a lot to me.}

~TGfascinated Aug 21, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

*hugs*

~Eldritch-Fox Aug 22, 2011 Student Writer

_{-hugs right back- ^^}

~TGfascinated Aug 22, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

*holds onto her*

~Eldritch-Fox Sep 2, 2011 Student Writer

_:clings:

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Euthanizedby ~Eldritch-Fox

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