Submissions by ShesitsinherSkin
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I vomited my first poem age eleven, in a short verse I titled "Hunger" pleading with the Universe, & with myself that one day, that guttural ache would no longer be there. I am now 28. And I'm ravenous.
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
29th Jan 2015 1:38pm
29th Jan 2015 1:38pm
Trigger-nometry
Take this suffering, take this pen, this ink, these scribbles, these scratches upon this paper as these aches, pains & muscle sprains create beauty so enlightened that it is overshadowed, so that it would be a sin for it to become a physical manifestation.
You see? The thing is that nobody ever tells you that rock bottom is disgustingly beautiful. No matter how many times you hit it – the ugly ducklings destiny shall remain that of the beautiful swan; Mother Nature & her fucking oxymoron's.
You see? The thing is that nobody ever tells you that rock bottom is disgustingly beautiful. No matter how many times you hit it – the ugly ducklings destiny shall remain that of the beautiful swan; Mother Nature & her fucking oxymoron's.
798 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Jan 2015 9:18pm
22nd Jan 2015 9:18pm
Plea Deal; Final Edit
I am drowning in this damned swamp you call heartache. I panic, searching these murky waters desperate for that love, that love to replace all the decay deep inside. I am unhappy. I hardly make sense. And I can never breathe. Eckhart Tolle stated that one conscious breathe in & out is a meditation. There are enough meditations caught in my chest to confuse the wisest of men, I am trapped mid sentence. I falter. I stutter. My mind is exhausted. My body yearns for rest. Plagued by such complex depths of emptiness that even I forget why I so vehemently denied myself of stable dry land &...
755 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
17th Dec 2014 12:20pm
17th Dec 2014 12:20pm
Earth. Air. Fire. Water.
I told you that it doesn't work like that, I am an Ocean & you - you are an anchor. You'll drown in me & I think it'd really fucking hurt to have you plunge through my flesh & crash through my bones until you hit the dead end of my bottomless soul.
It was behind the locked-from-the-inside door to our bathroom that you found me, blood dripping. And I have learned of what it feels like to have turned someone against their very self. You hated yourself for not fixing me, darling, more often than not it seems we cannot fix broken things.
I heart you, but I am on fire. You...
It was behind the locked-from-the-inside door to our bathroom that you found me, blood dripping. And I have learned of what it feels like to have turned someone against their very self. You hated yourself for not fixing me, darling, more often than not it seems we cannot fix broken things.
I heart you, but I am on fire. You...
983 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
20th Jul 2014 8:08am
20th Jul 2014 8:08am
Delu-icide
She sobs. A deep guttural gasp comes from the shaking outline of her body bundled up, bruised & blessed, beneath the blankets.
He lights another cigarette, before asking another question she’d already answered moments before. Weeks before, months before that & the year that had passed.
His anger only makes her anxious. And they both know she has not taken a proper breathe since…
She whispers, vocal chords croaking under the weight of her sadness, ‘Lately, I’ve recalled a fond adoration for this ending, the one labelled SUICIDE’
He scoffs, “You’re delusional.” ...
He lights another cigarette, before asking another question she’d already answered moments before. Weeks before, months before that & the year that had passed.
His anger only makes her anxious. And they both know she has not taken a proper breathe since…
She whispers, vocal chords croaking under the weight of her sadness, ‘Lately, I’ve recalled a fond adoration for this ending, the one labelled SUICIDE’
He scoffs, “You’re delusional.” ...
817 reads
2 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
26th Apr 2014 10:48pm
26th Apr 2014 10:48pm
Hook, Line & Sinking.
1076 reads
7 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
8th Jul 2013 7:04pm
8th Jul 2013 7:04pm
Nursery Puff.
Postdated July 1st 2012
Little Miss Puffette swirls on her tuffette,
Chasing vapours, Dragons & dreams.
Oh, she’s transfixed by her crystal mix,
twirling, swirling glass as her feelings - they pass
And Little Miss Puffette falls from disgrace.
Little Miss Puffette swirls on her tuffette,
Chasing vapours, Dragons & dreams.
Oh, she’s transfixed by her crystal mix,
twirling, swirling glass as her feelings - they pass
And Little Miss Puffette falls from disgrace.
827 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
8th Jul 2013 4:03pm
8th Jul 2013 4:03pm
I Do Not Know.
No, I don’t know what to do when pieces of my self sink into you.
No, I can’t disguise my hesitation, nor express my thoughts.
No, I can’t stop doing as I always have done, for I have so much to prove to absolutely noone.
No, I can’t disguise my hesitation, nor express my thoughts.
No, I can’t stop doing as I always have done, for I have so much to prove to absolutely noone.
613 reads
SELF POEM
Published
6th Jul 2013 5:38pm
6th Jul 2013 5:38pm
Dress Rehearsal
Have you ever wanted to know how it feels to take your clothes off in a room crowded with men & women alike?
You feel the eyes roaming your body, the jokes & nods of approval between males when they like what they see.
You feel your palms start to sweat, your heart beats faster, your limbs sometimes even shake.
You feel empowerment. You feel degradation. Judgement, adoration. Wanted, desired. You feel disconnected. You become emotionally unavailable.
You learn how to play the game.
"You must first learn the rules of the game, then you...
You feel the eyes roaming your body, the jokes & nods of approval between males when they like what they see.
You feel your palms start to sweat, your heart beats faster, your limbs sometimes even shake.
You feel empowerment. You feel degradation. Judgement, adoration. Wanted, desired. You feel disconnected. You become emotionally unavailable.
You learn how to play the game.
"You must first learn the rules of the game, then you...
685 reads
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
6th Jul 2013 5:30pm
6th Jul 2013 5:30pm
For Julia Ghoulia
Postdated; Nov 12th of 2012
Dearest,
Daylight is dawning, & you have asked for stories - bruised & blue.
A year ago today.. I was driving somewhere between the top of Victoria & the bottom of New South Wales. An impulsive decision the day before after a night of stripping at Dallas Showgirls, & fiending for meth. I faced two options.. Catch a taxi to a mates to smoke meth I didn’t have the cash to pay for.. Or pack everything the fuck up & drive. Just drive.
I chose escapism. Took six days to travel from Melbourne to the Gold Coast where I...
Dearest,
Daylight is dawning, & you have asked for stories - bruised & blue.
A year ago today.. I was driving somewhere between the top of Victoria & the bottom of New South Wales. An impulsive decision the day before after a night of stripping at Dallas Showgirls, & fiending for meth. I faced two options.. Catch a taxi to a mates to smoke meth I didn’t have the cash to pay for.. Or pack everything the fuck up & drive. Just drive.
I chose escapism. Took six days to travel from Melbourne to the Gold Coast where I...
731 reads
SELF POEM
Published
29th Jun 2013 2:25pm
29th Jun 2013 2:25pm
Fill in the Blanks.
Worried, not only for oneself, worried for the impact that ones presence has had on others, specifically the few whom I’ve encountered & cared for.
Cold are my fingertips as they run nervously through my hair, tempted to tear my scalp right off of my skull.
All this emotion, yet here I lay, lingering in bed.
Curtains drawn.
Birds singing, squacking & screeching their symphony of praise for Morning.
Dawn’s first lights begining to reach our atmosphere.
Wasted were the words I whispered, words you didn't want to hear.
Cold are my fingertips as they run nervously through my hair, tempted to tear my scalp right off of my skull.
All this emotion, yet here I lay, lingering in bed.
Curtains drawn.
Birds singing, squacking & screeching their symphony of praise for Morning.
Dawn’s first lights begining to reach our atmosphere.
Wasted were the words I whispered, words you didn't want to hear.
924 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by ShesitsinherSkin
