Submissions by BleedingInferno219 (Kristyn Ashley.)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
27th Dec 2012 2:11am
27th Dec 2012 2:11am
Time Doesn't Exist, Clocks Do.
Who is to say a minute is 60 seconds?
Or that an hour is what it is?
We're stressing out over time,
when we're the ones who invented it.
Do you think we could dismiss it
with the same ease we had when it was adopted?
Or would it be useless for all of the men
that proceeded to check expensive watches?
A minute could be 20 days,
if again today, we could choose.
I find that folly, this entire routine.
Time doesn't exist, clocks do.
Or that an hour is what it is?
We're stressing out over time,
when we're the ones who invented it.
Do you think we could dismiss it
with the same ease we had when it was adopted?
Or would it be useless for all of the men
that proceeded to check expensive watches?
A minute could be 20 days,
if again today, we could choose.
I find that folly, this entire routine.
Time doesn't exist, clocks do.
1545 reads
5 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
22nd Dec 2012 6:03am
22nd Dec 2012 6:03am
What If?
You are here, reading this....
With eyes of some color,
and if you stare long enough,
you'll daydream of another.
Who's in that daydream?
On whom do you spy?
And late at night, in bed,
for whom do you cry?
What if I cried for you?
And your anonymous face?
Those eyes of maybe blue, green, brown?
And those lips I might taste.
You could hold the qualities,
I might just adore.
Please don't give up on yourself,
when someone out there begs for more.
With eyes of some color,
and if you stare long enough,
you'll daydream of another.
Who's in that daydream?
On whom do you spy?
And late at night, in bed,
for whom do you cry?
What if I cried for you?
And your anonymous face?
Those eyes of maybe blue, green, brown?
And those lips I might taste.
You could hold the qualities,
I might just adore.
Please don't give up on yourself,
when someone out there begs for more.
905 reads
10 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
5th Dec 2012 12:36pm
5th Dec 2012 12:36pm
Simple Poem.
Allow me some space,
give me time to breathe.
Then maybe if I relax,
I'll let you stay with me.
We can ride rollercoasters,
and we can be all alone.
Then youd feel how I feel,
when I sit at home.
Im manic depressive,
but just let me unwind.
You can stick with me,
Im good for passing time.
give me time to breathe.
Then maybe if I relax,
I'll let you stay with me.
We can ride rollercoasters,
and we can be all alone.
Then youd feel how I feel,
when I sit at home.
Im manic depressive,
but just let me unwind.
You can stick with me,
Im good for passing time.
730 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Nov 2012 2:50am
29th Nov 2012 2:50am
Nobody's Ever Really There for You, in the End.
I might never amount to anything,
end up dead and noone shows.
But I've enjoyed my ride so far,
as far as that can really go.
My chemistry might be a bit flawed,
and my head may be a little warped....
Hell, I might always be a stoner
with thoughts washing up on distant shores.
Even with all that,
I'm adoring my life.
Go mind your own business,
and I'll go mind my knife.
end up dead and noone shows.
But I've enjoyed my ride so far,
as far as that can really go.
My chemistry might be a bit flawed,
and my head may be a little warped....
Hell, I might always be a stoner
with thoughts washing up on distant shores.
Even with all that,
I'm adoring my life.
Go mind your own business,
and I'll go mind my knife.
853 reads
3 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
21st Nov 2012 2:12am
21st Nov 2012 2:12am
I Never Felt Like Anybody.
Pardon the girl with the secondhand smile.
If you placed an offer, she would still find denial.
Something's wrong inside her brain. It just won't let her be.
Let me know when you find it, it's torturing me.
Like a cinder block of thought came smashing through her skull,
but your only focus is on how her eyes look so dull.
With a voice like gravel that still smells like smoke,
you can hear the sound break, on the words she chokes.
And she's got last nights eyeliner still smeared on her face.
If that's what you call it? That mask...
If you placed an offer, she would still find denial.
Something's wrong inside her brain. It just won't let her be.
Let me know when you find it, it's torturing me.
Like a cinder block of thought came smashing through her skull,
but your only focus is on how her eyes look so dull.
With a voice like gravel that still smells like smoke,
you can hear the sound break, on the words she chokes.
And she's got last nights eyeliner still smeared on her face.
If that's what you call it? That mask...
1178 reads
7 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
20th Nov 2012 11:21am
20th Nov 2012 11:21am
With Feigned Anonymity.
"There's someone I used to care about..."
Its the past-tense that is key.
Should I laugh or hold it in,
as you flounce, "nonchalant", past me?
Like I couldn't see,
and you thought I just couldn't tell.
There's more to it than that, love.
Besides, Id have to be dumb as hell.
I'm sure noone knows you're hurting,
when your eyes are focused on the floor.
Keep up that B-list act,
but I'm not watching anymore.
Its the past-tense that is key.
Should I laugh or hold it in,
as you flounce, "nonchalant", past me?
Like I couldn't see,
and you thought I just couldn't tell.
There's more to it than that, love.
Besides, Id have to be dumb as hell.
I'm sure noone knows you're hurting,
when your eyes are focused on the floor.
Keep up that B-list act,
but I'm not watching anymore.
827 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
20th Nov 2012 11:01am
20th Nov 2012 11:01am
Your Secret is Safe with Me and My Medication.
I've heard a few bad things about me,
though Im not even of "sound mind".
And I've been no good judge of character,
apparently, since January, '09.
If I were, though, dear,
I think what I"d see
was a naive little someone,
hiding from me.
The laughs are a little too loud,
and you act just a little too cool
for me not to see its make-believe,
but who the hell are you tryna fool?
Dont worry, dear, I love it.
You've made it particularly clear,
that you're the sort of person
you wish you could make me fear. ...
though Im not even of "sound mind".
And I've been no good judge of character,
apparently, since January, '09.
If I were, though, dear,
I think what I"d see
was a naive little someone,
hiding from me.
The laughs are a little too loud,
and you act just a little too cool
for me not to see its make-believe,
but who the hell are you tryna fool?
Dont worry, dear, I love it.
You've made it particularly clear,
that you're the sort of person
you wish you could make me fear. ...
811 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
16th Nov 2012 11:33am
16th Nov 2012 11:33am
To Tell it How it Is.
I'm not gonna be caught dead defending myself,
not when I know how I hurt her.
But I will say that she never knew the circumstances,
and I'd proceed to say she never would.
However, my writing this should clear up this cloud of smoke,
since the mirrors won't just cover it up.
Somewhere in my reflection, if I look deep enough,
I find the shadow of a girl whose parents taught her to love.
And love is the brightest burning flame I've got.
While not everyone has it, it still turns the world.
When you have a love like that, you've...
not when I know how I hurt her.
But I will say that she never knew the circumstances,
and I'd proceed to say she never would.
However, my writing this should clear up this cloud of smoke,
since the mirrors won't just cover it up.
Somewhere in my reflection, if I look deep enough,
I find the shadow of a girl whose parents taught her to love.
And love is the brightest burning flame I've got.
While not everyone has it, it still turns the world.
When you have a love like that, you've...
1031 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
14th Nov 2012 4:47am
14th Nov 2012 4:47am
I Can Be a Page in Your Notebook.
The peanut gallery in my head
wants to hear how I've coped.
But I told you all along
that I'd kill what I held close.
I'm cancer, and I swear it.
A filthy, damned disease.
Sweetheart, I did you a favor.
Ridding you of me.
Nobody seems to buy it,
they don't believe my words.
Maybe now they'll see,
just look what I've done to her.
When you're old and fading,
you'll think back to me.
Or maybe you'll have forgotten
my sour memories.
I hate it that you're crying,
but I do it all the time.
I'm sorry I broke...
wants to hear how I've coped.
But I told you all along
that I'd kill what I held close.
I'm cancer, and I swear it.
A filthy, damned disease.
Sweetheart, I did you a favor.
Ridding you of me.
Nobody seems to buy it,
they don't believe my words.
Maybe now they'll see,
just look what I've done to her.
When you're old and fading,
you'll think back to me.
Or maybe you'll have forgotten
my sour memories.
I hate it that you're crying,
but I do it all the time.
I'm sorry I broke...
928 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
11th Nov 2012 11:06pm
11th Nov 2012 11:06pm
I Wouldn't Want You to Get Caught Up in Trying to Fix Me.
I'm soaked with cold sweat,
and under three blankets.
My eyes are searching for light,
but it seems it's been taken.
My nails are tearing my flesh,
and gray eyes start their rolling.
If air could find its way to my lungs,
would it be mine, or would it be stolen?
It's like I fell into the ocean,
and I lost my sense of sound.
My mind sailed away, a shipwreck,
my feet can't feel the ground.
Sick steams in my stomach,
madness wells in the brain.
Do I want to be fixed?
Am I really insane?
and under three blankets.
My eyes are searching for light,
but it seems it's been taken.
My nails are tearing my flesh,
and gray eyes start their rolling.
If air could find its way to my lungs,
would it be mine, or would it be stolen?
It's like I fell into the ocean,
and I lost my sense of sound.
My mind sailed away, a shipwreck,
my feet can't feel the ground.
Sick steams in my stomach,
madness wells in the brain.
Do I want to be fixed?
Am I really insane?
895 reads
7 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
6th Nov 2012 5:47pm
6th Nov 2012 5:47pm
Through the Telescope.
I used to have a telescope,
I would scan all the night sky.
Carry my blanket onto the yard,
dream about the things Id find.
Stars were my weakness,
but my telescope broke.
Ive never replaced it,
like Id somehow lost hope
of ever seeing the night
magnified again.
All my dreams were of stars,
but reality always wins.
I would scan all the night sky.
Carry my blanket onto the yard,
dream about the things Id find.
Stars were my weakness,
but my telescope broke.
Ive never replaced it,
like Id somehow lost hope
of ever seeing the night
magnified again.
All my dreams were of stars,
but reality always wins.
699 reads
3 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
5th Nov 2012 1:59am
5th Nov 2012 1:59am
Some More Smoke.
Through the cloudy tears in my bloodshot eyes,
I can make out the fog that escapes my lungs.
Even if the room spins just a little bit, who cares?
Its what I need, if I choke it down I become myself.
My throat hates the burn, but my brain loves to swim.
The resin on my lips is just a sign I'm approachable again.
I get the feeling I need to sin again.
Besides, I will never be a saint.
I can make out the fog that escapes my lungs.
Even if the room spins just a little bit, who cares?
Its what I need, if I choke it down I become myself.
My throat hates the burn, but my brain loves to swim.
The resin on my lips is just a sign I'm approachable again.
I get the feeling I need to sin again.
Besides, I will never be a saint.
836 reads
7 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by BleedingInferno219 (Kristyn Ashley.)
