Submissions by Amandaa (Manda)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
LOVE POEM
Published
30th Dec 2015 3:13am
30th Dec 2015 3:13am
now i have bald spots
people say they love how my hair is
so soft.
if only they knew
it was only for you.
i keep it
soft
because it hurts
a lot
when there's too many
knots
for your hands to get
caught
in.
my hair had a home.
it was in between your
bruised knuckles and
finger bones.
so soft.
if only they knew
it was only for you.
i keep it
soft
because it hurts
a lot
when there's too many
knots
for your hands to get
caught
in.
my hair had a home.
it was in between your
bruised knuckles and
finger bones.
613 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Dec 2015 11:13pm
22nd Dec 2015 11:13pm
malignancy
you grew underneath my feet
through the cracks in the side-
walk that i tried so hard to step
over.
i was oblivious.
you were grey
and dull
and blended
right into the pavement.
but you sprouted yourself
and fed off of every
single
worry
that dripped from me like sweat.
you wrapped around my ankles
like vines
and i fell
to my knees.
and your thorns stabbed
into my skin,
injecting all of you into me.
you found your way to every inch
of my being.
made a home in my head
and a hole in my...
through the cracks in the side-
walk that i tried so hard to step
over.
i was oblivious.
you were grey
and dull
and blended
right into the pavement.
but you sprouted yourself
and fed off of every
single
worry
that dripped from me like sweat.
you wrapped around my ankles
like vines
and i fell
to my knees.
and your thorns stabbed
into my skin,
injecting all of you into me.
you found your way to every inch
of my being.
made a home in my head
and a hole in my...
687 reads
1 Comment
ANGER POEM
Published
22nd Dec 2015 3:51am
22nd Dec 2015 3:51am
suffocation.
i think i would
genuinely enjoy slowly
suffocating
until i
die.
more than this
suffocation.
i swear they are
smothering me
and sometimes it makes
me want to
smoke a cigarette
or take too many
pills one day.
it’s not like they
ever ask me how i’m doing.
it’s not like they’d even
care.
when he walks through the
door at 4:
51
i want to lock and hide
behind mine.
just the sound of his heavy
feet climbing the stairs
sends chills of
hatred
crawling up my spine
and out through ...
genuinely enjoy slowly
suffocating
until i
die.
more than this
suffocation.
i swear they are
smothering me
and sometimes it makes
me want to
smoke a cigarette
or take too many
pills one day.
it’s not like they
ever ask me how i’m doing.
it’s not like they’d even
care.
when he walks through the
door at 4:
51
i want to lock and hide
behind mine.
just the sound of his heavy
feet climbing the stairs
sends chills of
hatred
crawling up my spine
and out through ...
772 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
22nd Dec 2015 3:47am
22nd Dec 2015 3:47am
desire
it's a craving.
like a
sink-my-teeth-in-
and-indulge-in-it
craving.
i want some part of you
to always be touching me.
whether it's your lips on my neck
or mine on yours.
your fingertips on my chest,
my eyes on you.
you know I love the sound when your
breaths are taken over by
persistent pleasure.
you’ll never be able to get away,
you will never escape.
i've handcuffed you to my bed
and i don't even have any handcuffs.
i've tied your heart to mine,
but I didn't need any rope. ...
like a
sink-my-teeth-in-
and-indulge-in-it
craving.
i want some part of you
to always be touching me.
whether it's your lips on my neck
or mine on yours.
your fingertips on my chest,
my eyes on you.
you know I love the sound when your
breaths are taken over by
persistent pleasure.
you’ll never be able to get away,
you will never escape.
i've handcuffed you to my bed
and i don't even have any handcuffs.
i've tied your heart to mine,
but I didn't need any rope. ...
699 reads
0 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
17th Dec 2015 2:59am
17th Dec 2015 2:59am
SHOTgun
he sends me to my room,
like saying,
“think about what you’ve done.”
but he’s the one who needs
to open up his eyes.
i despise the man i call my
father,
and the choices that he’s made.
a mistake is not a mistake
when you choose to do it
again
and again and -
he shot me with a bottle
it fits right in his pocket.
ONE! TWO! THREE!
after that i stopped counting.
stopped counting on him
and who he should be.
stopped waiting on a promise,
on a thought,
stopped waiting on hope.
hope jumped out the window first,...
like saying,
“think about what you’ve done.”
but he’s the one who needs
to open up his eyes.
i despise the man i call my
father,
and the choices that he’s made.
a mistake is not a mistake
when you choose to do it
again
and again and -
he shot me with a bottle
it fits right in his pocket.
ONE! TWO! THREE!
after that i stopped counting.
stopped counting on him
and who he should be.
stopped waiting on a promise,
on a thought,
stopped waiting on hope.
hope jumped out the window first,...
729 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
16th Jul 2015 00:04am
16th Jul 2015 00:04am
we ride with demons.
he refers to me as
his girl.
and i think it's that sense of
belonging
that draws me in the most.
that and the danger,
him. how
reckless he is.
i have never been, nor
wanted to be
that girl.
the one who jumps on the back of
a motorcycle that goes way
too fast
with a guy she knows way
too little.
but he makes me that girl.
and i don't care.
because i like the way he can
make me feel
by making me feel
nothing at all.
and my new favorite feeling is when i
wrap my arms...
his girl.
and i think it's that sense of
belonging
that draws me in the most.
that and the danger,
him. how
reckless he is.
i have never been, nor
wanted to be
that girl.
the one who jumps on the back of
a motorcycle that goes way
too fast
with a guy she knows way
too little.
but he makes me that girl.
and i don't care.
because i like the way he can
make me feel
by making me feel
nothing at all.
and my new favorite feeling is when i
wrap my arms...
805 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
12th Jul 2015 6:36pm
12th Jul 2015 6:36pm
side affects (of losing you)
you linger
like damp laundry
hanging on clothespins for days
without end.
like the lonely beads of water that
stained my cheeks,
you’re
still
here i remain with fingers
broken and frozen
into the curls they formed trying not to
lose
their grasp.
but you slid right through as you
became silk in my hands.
& here i stand with two black eyes from sleep
punching me in the face
each time i try to find it.
& my head pounds like waves against the surface
because your memories
scream inside me and they...
like damp laundry
hanging on clothespins for days
without end.
like the lonely beads of water that
stained my cheeks,
you’re
still
here i remain with fingers
broken and frozen
into the curls they formed trying not to
lose
their grasp.
but you slid right through as you
became silk in my hands.
& here i stand with two black eyes from sleep
punching me in the face
each time i try to find it.
& my head pounds like waves against the surface
because your memories
scream inside me and they...
763 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
11th Jul 2015 4:34am
11th Jul 2015 4:34am
nomad.
when they asked her where she’d go,
she told them that the
highest
peaks brought her
closest
to her mother’s arms.
but that the longest rivers reminded
her of the oars her brother used to hold
to slice air and water.
maybe she’d follow roads too far away that she’d
never go back.
living on continuous paths
with no direction,
but smoother streets than her hometown.
if she ever needed a place to lay her head,
she could make her way to Manitoba
and seek sleep in gregarious* Geranium beds.
just like the ...
she told them that the
highest
peaks brought her
closest
to her mother’s arms.
but that the longest rivers reminded
her of the oars her brother used to hold
to slice air and water.
maybe she’d follow roads too far away that she’d
never go back.
living on continuous paths
with no direction,
but smoother streets than her hometown.
if she ever needed a place to lay her head,
she could make her way to Manitoba
and seek sleep in gregarious* Geranium beds.
just like the ...
753 reads
6 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
11th Jul 2015 4:30am
11th Jul 2015 4:30am
lost & found.
you are the thoughts
invading my mind at every
2 in the morning, when the
one thing
i want is the
one thing
i’m deprived of:
sleep.
and you…
my arms are nothing but
goosebumps.
they are numb from the
cold air
hitting them,
jealous of their heat.
each swirl in the design of
my ceiling
creates the letters that create
your name.
i can’t look away or
close my eyes, too
afraid that if i do, they will
disappear
and there will be
nothing left
to comfort me in the
dark.
you are...
invading my mind at every
2 in the morning, when the
one thing
i want is the
one thing
i’m deprived of:
sleep.
and you…
my arms are nothing but
goosebumps.
they are numb from the
cold air
hitting them,
jealous of their heat.
each swirl in the design of
my ceiling
creates the letters that create
your name.
i can’t look away or
close my eyes, too
afraid that if i do, they will
disappear
and there will be
nothing left
to comfort me in the
dark.
you are...
775 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
9th Jul 2015 11:02pm
9th Jul 2015 11:02pm
artist
you painted my walls
as you pinned me to them
with your hands,
dipped in danger.
you made streaks
and smears
and smudges,
and smiled as i watched you.
you used my blank canvas
safety
and your palette of
pain
to create your
masterpiece.
no shade of
mercy
would ever touch your brush.
even when the water colors
wash away,
i'll be reminded of your art
by the black
and blue
stains
that can't be scrubbed off.
as you pinned me to them
with your hands,
dipped in danger.
you made streaks
and smears
and smudges,
and smiled as i watched you.
you used my blank canvas
safety
and your palette of
pain
to create your
masterpiece.
no shade of
mercy
would ever touch your brush.
even when the water colors
wash away,
i'll be reminded of your art
by the black
and blue
stains
that can't be scrubbed off.
963 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
17th Jun 2015 4:58am
17th Jun 2015 4:58am
my hips don't lie
within a week,
there will likely be
bruises on my hip. because when he
holds me that way, he
holds so tightly that i can
feel his fingers
pressing into my skin.
and even minutes after he lets
go, i can see the imprint of
the tips of them if i look,
reminding me that they were
there.
i don't know why he grips me so
firmly.
as if he thinks i'm going to
drift away with the wind.
i guess he just has a weird way of showing his feelings.
there will likely be
bruises on my hip. because when he
holds me that way, he
holds so tightly that i can
feel his fingers
pressing into my skin.
and even minutes after he lets
go, i can see the imprint of
the tips of them if i look,
reminding me that they were
there.
i don't know why he grips me so
firmly.
as if he thinks i'm going to
drift away with the wind.
i guess he just has a weird way of showing his feelings.
657 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
12th Jun 2015 11:12pm
12th Jun 2015 11:12pm
Passenger Seat
and i think i just like the comfort.
the feeling, the
rush.
i'm somehow getting
familiar
with the smell of
Jack Daniel's
faded
into the leather
seats of his car.
i am settled
with the
feeling
in my stom
ach-e
when i close my eyes
through the wind
as he drives too fast
with my window
down.
it just gives me some type of
home.
and he holds my hand,
steering only with
one
and it is a reckless
devotion.
so violently contradicting.
he puts me in ...
the feeling, the
rush.
i'm somehow getting
familiar
with the smell of
Jack Daniel's
faded
into the leather
seats of his car.
i am settled
with the
feeling
in my stom
ach-e
when i close my eyes
through the wind
as he drives too fast
with my window
down.
it just gives me some type of
home.
and he holds my hand,
steering only with
one
and it is a reckless
devotion.
so violently contradicting.
he puts me in ...
750 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Amandaa (Manda)
