[x]

I Cannot Forget.I am a modern girl;
I debate complexities.

I get migraines.
Or something.

I don't know, either way I'm used to the cold sterile
of doctor's waiting rooms
and the bitter bite of medication.

There was a time, about a year ago, now
when even the thought of a germ
made me scrub my hands raw.

I have no qualms about describing myself as such;
this is who I am, I cannot pretend to be my sister
with her proud, broad, sunburnt fisherwoman's face
or my father, and his hands that can soothe panicking horses
and create order out of metal chaos, make something
that moves out of piles of bolts and puddles of black
sticky oil on t

chipped off nail polishTell me what to do, boy;
my nail polish is chipped off
and I know I am not perfect.

Tell me what to do, please –
it's hard to swallow
and I cannot breathe
because you're out there somewhere in the world.

(Where the hell does someone like you come from?)

My lips are bitten
and my heart is sore.

People say that strong emotion is good
that it means you're alive and sensitive
that it's better than the numbing lethargy
of depression.
And it's true, I've never felt this present
on this blue-and-green marble world of ours.

But oh god, I cannot take it any more.

My shoulders are thin and I am pale and sick
and I do not know if

Epithalamium.Tighten the high collar of your wedding dress
try not to think of it as a noose.
Restrained, restrained, quiet,
bursting at the seams of a thin, defenseless little figure.
Your hair is arranged in perfect
little curling ringlets of sandpaper blonde.

Smile now, dear, who wants to look like a corpse on their wedding day?

Hands run over the slight curve of waist and hips
you've always been your own until now.

hmm

maybe…

dark night thoughts slide insidiously
and...

Slick on the lipstick
red like blood and not appropriate
for pure virginal wedding white
but when has he ever treated you like something pure?

If he's going to t

wantsI want to kiss the breath out of you
until I own you

until your life is mine
and mine is yours
and we could kill each other

just like that.

Endings Are a Chance to Begin.you are the sea
full of secrets
and knowledge
i am that weary river
seeking refuge
in
your nautical miles
your fathoms,
leagues
i want to
find
enlightenment
submerged
d
e
e
p
in your
abyssopelogic zone.
i want to be
burried
in
you,
eternal
sleep.

The end.
Begin.

motion sickness pt. 2i am a kinetic thing,
always spiralling
in and out of thought,
out and never in
consciousness.
i hang on by a
thread of stretched
skin.
i cannot be expected
to hold on
any longer,
especially when
i'm holding onto
a gun with a
hair-trigger,
pointing at me.

i am my own death sentence.
if the world is a lethal injection,
then i am the substance inside,
the poison, and you are the
infected needle, slipping into
my vein to become a part of me,
merged with my DNA.
we are inseparable.

the only way to silence
a gun shot is to make sure
there are as many
bodies in the bullet's
trajectory as possible to
muffle the sou

Universal Universewe
(does that sound weird,
saying we, grouping us together
instead of keeping us apart?)
you and I
need something more
than this world has to offer
we know the
eclipse
will come
and our eyes
will never completely adjust
to the darkness
and our minds
will never fully heal
after years of lashing
leaving lesions
as deep as time
as wide as the universe
equivalent to the volume of love;
infinity forever

never break the loop
and the cycle continues for so long
it wears grooves into the face of the clock
that keeps
tictocking
our valuable moments away
making it impossible to live
without dying first

we could not find

1+1=1 Part I: This Waste(of a )landPart I: This Waste(of a )land

north
east
south
west
the universe divided
into cardinal directions
each of us lost
each of us found
out of balance
and oblivious
naked
vulnerable
flesh to flame
heart to break
love to meaninglessness

we float
aboard this orb
lonely
in a sea
of 7 billion
creatures
alive
but never completely
unaware
walking comas
unsure of our destinations
not caring enough to find out
who, what, when, where, why, and how
we are

we hold on so
desperately
to the things we
hope are real
hungrily grabbing
at any chance
to see the light
any branch or stone
we can use to
pull ourselves
out of

close your eyestongues slide over abrasive skin
tiny cuts bleed tiny drops of blood
cracked bifocals blind so-called eyes
from the real world i'd rather hate

because all we are is dirt
all our words turn hearts to dust
all we do is hurt
eyes that lie are the last to trust

closed doors calm my racing mind
therapeutic coma between cold sheets
wrapped in a limp, long embrace
everything is much too dead
to care anymore

close your eyes
it'll be over soon

a small but scaring sting
a tiny cut drips tiny drops
of the things that mattered most

~

but not anymore
because this is not a healthy world
the one i left behind
seems so much brighter
no

nostalgianostalgia

statical wind-up toys
litter the floor
piercing bare feet
in the nursery (home)

jack-in-a-box
spooks all the old folk
"You nearly made my heart give out"

acceleration
can't help but die
eventually
slowly, but surely

plastic toy soldiers
hold the power of symbolism
as cataract eyes
grow milky and sweet
with time

smelling so faintly
of a chemical scent
the redolence of livelihood
out of their hands

they remember fleetingly
through the TV
of the days when imprisonment
was impossible
invincible
in youth
sound in the mind
do they really remember
or is it a sick little trick?

wheelchairs and pills
make zom

BurntBurnt

9/25/2012

years ago,
i was
marinated
in a bitter
liquid
that bit
at my
brain.
it left
sores,
now
scarred
but still
itchy,
festering,
&
infected.

i was
breaded
in
baking soda
then
dipped in
vinegar,
just
to make
the Devil
laugh.

happy
to
oblige.

before,
i was
just
bleached.
now i
am burnt.
my skin
peels back
to reveal
newborn
flesh,
weak
&
succeptible,
exposed
&
inviting
all
bacterium
in.

the tests
all come
back
inconclusive,
my diagnosis
cunningly
evades
idenitification,
like a well-read
shape-shifting
chameleon,
an instinctual
master of
disguise.

I.

I.

MOTIONthis is the journal of an
insomniac

because even when i do
slip between the thin layers of my
troubled sleep
my mind keeps
rolling

never static
never

s

i

l

e

n

t

my mind was a defective model
someone forgot to throw away
i can't seem to find the off switch

and the bells ring, riiiiiiiiiinggg

!

and i travel
on and on
until my feet bleed
and my socks can absorb no more
and i just roll
in the wind
and in the waves
that keep crashing
scraping
such is life
not a single wave
lives two lives
no single particle of water
touches the same shore
twice

the consistency
of the inconsistent
in this world
gives me an

bleachedillumination is not just the act of shedding light
but also the act of blinding a mind
into paralysis

when you see eyes that are pale and glossy
then you know these eyes belong
to one of the many
brain-bleached people

they sought the answers
the all-knowledge
they thought they saw
eminating from the heart of the sun
the soul of the stars
but they were caught staring
too long and now

white is all there is

moonchilda child was born to the Night,
and the stars kissed her cold
new face as she fell through
the clouds toward the newborn planet
a million lives stretched from end to end below.
she landed underneath a lofty fig tree.
by a river she lay and cried.

she cried, but there were no ears
to hear her, only the darkness to keep her company.
she was the only thing
alive
besides the tree.
so she closed her eyes and remembered
her life before her birth.

she remembered
warmth
love
stars
and warmth again,
but this time closer.

she opened her eyes
and saw a light unseen before.
her nuewfound landscape was on fire.
everything burned an

don't fall in love with a poetHello, all you gentlefellows and ladies;
I have a piece of advice for you.

Nothing harsh, nothing meant to hurt.
But here it is:

Don't fall in love with a poet.

Oh!
I'm not saying it won't be brilliant.
Because it most likely will be.
(While it's happening.)
It will be lovely, to fall into the iambic pentameter
of her heartbeat.
And you will adore the collision
of her mouth, and the obscure verse it whispers
against your skin.

She will love you;
or not love you –
in whatever way suits her at that present time.

It might be like fireworks.

Or it might be like gentle moving honey.

Either way, it will end.
With a –

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Heartbreak at Coogee BeachCoogee Beach, Perth.
I stand on the dunes, bare-footed
in swelling, gritty sand
amongst the spiky explosions of coastal vegetation.
I am childishly happy about the thought of becoming an adult –
the air moves differently over my skin up here and
the future might be bright.

A toddler reels up to me, unsteady and tottering on chubby legs;
one of the many little ones of our brood.

"Aunty Meggy. Aunty Meggy."

She reaches out tiny pleading arms to me,
blue eyes wincing against the harsh Australian sun
and the tears that collect in their corners.

She has had a fight with her cousin –
a similarly round three-year-old who's

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A Collection Of Emotions.

by ~Meggie272, Apr 20, 2012, 11:34:48 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

Horror: Spiders crawling up and down the spine, burrowing into the spinal cord.
Depression: Something weighing down the limbs and numbing the brain. This something is unidentified as yet. Guilt and other assorted secondary emotions swirling in a thick mixture, sometimes located in the gut.
Love: Clinical insanity. Symptoms can include the disproportionate swelling of the heart, and a surprisingly pleasant sensation of nausea.
Heartbreak: Glass that has shattered inside the chest. A single memory, sight, reflection or comment may cause these shatters of glass to shift and aggravate already present wounds.
Shame: Hatred of one's self, located between shoulderblades.
Ecstasy: Fizzy bubbling of the blood, an effervescence akin to champagne.
Life: A combination of all these and many others. Incurable.

A Collection Of Emotions.by ~Meggie272

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

NaPoWriMo - Day Fifteen.

Slowly catching up!

~Ivory-Ire Apr 22, 2012

I love this so much. <3

~Meggie272 Apr 23, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you!

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