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.
LOVE POEM
Published
27th May 2013 5:51pm
27th May 2013 5:51pm
Haunted.
Postdated; circa 27th November, 2011
I don’t ever want to fall in love again…
The thought of it happening terrifies me, leaving me shaken to the core. I always blog about some new fling I’m seeing & about how they might just be my next great love. Than it hits me, fuck the euphoria of falling. They might be there to catch you but eventually they will let you slip. And all that you had known will come crashing down.
And fuck, it hurts so fucking much. It changes you, nothing is ever the same. YOU are never the same.
This post isn’t about being...
I don’t ever want to fall in love again…
The thought of it happening terrifies me, leaving me shaken to the core. I always blog about some new fling I’m seeing & about how they might just be my next great love. Than it hits me, fuck the euphoria of falling. They might be there to catch you but eventually they will let you slip. And all that you had known will come crashing down.
And fuck, it hurts so fucking much. It changes you, nothing is ever the same. YOU are never the same.
This post isn’t about being...
726 reads
1 Comment
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
26th May 2013 2:24pm
26th May 2013 2:24pm
Alphabetised Analogy.
For the past 4 years, I have been plagued by what could only be ‘writers block’. In partial sense, yes.. that’s what it was. I stopped creating art & I became… I do not know what I had become.
I assumed that I had stopped writing cos it had merely been an outlet for my teenage angst. I forgot what it was like to feel inspired.
It was as though the artist, the author in me had died. Along with the girl that I was. And the woman that I was becoming was merely a child smeared in her Mama's lipstick. The part of me that once wrote so freely was tired. And laid itself to...
I assumed that I had stopped writing cos it had merely been an outlet for my teenage angst. I forgot what it was like to feel inspired.
It was as though the artist, the author in me had died. Along with the girl that I was. And the woman that I was becoming was merely a child smeared in her Mama's lipstick. The part of me that once wrote so freely was tired. And laid itself to...
594 reads
LOVE POEM
Published
26th May 2013 1:40pm
26th May 2013 1:40pm
Bewildered & Blinded by Love
Hello You,
This letter is one of pure curiousity, bewilderment & excitement.
You literally came into my life out of nowhere & re lit the flame in my heart. I admit, I am apprehensive, I am scared. This fragile heart of mine was not expecting such a wondorous encounter.
After losing myself, finding high ground, & healing from a devastating breakup, during which time I have dated others.. And I felt things towards them, I told myself that I had to date again, to move on completely. Fate stepped in & subtly ended any feeble attempt I made at lying to...
This letter is one of pure curiousity, bewilderment & excitement.
You literally came into my life out of nowhere & re lit the flame in my heart. I admit, I am apprehensive, I am scared. This fragile heart of mine was not expecting such a wondorous encounter.
After losing myself, finding high ground, & healing from a devastating breakup, during which time I have dated others.. And I felt things towards them, I told myself that I had to date again, to move on completely. Fate stepped in & subtly ended any feeble attempt I made at lying to...
598 reads
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
20th May 2013 1:07am
20th May 2013 1:07am
Masochistic.
I endure physical pain in the form of body modifications. My relief is my release! Get tattooed. Get a fucking scar. Get some god damn meat hooks in your back & have yourself suspended in the air. You will never feel more alive than in those moments.
I like to be hurt. It reminds me that I am alive. Pain has become my friend. We as a society have been told that pain is bad, it hurts, noone wants to be hurt. You’re looking at it from the wrong perspective.
I yearn for the adrenaline rush, that kick of endorphin's. I want to see how far I can push my physical being before my...
I like to be hurt. It reminds me that I am alive. Pain has become my friend. We as a society have been told that pain is bad, it hurts, noone wants to be hurt. You’re looking at it from the wrong perspective.
I yearn for the adrenaline rush, that kick of endorphin's. I want to see how far I can push my physical being before my...
723 reads
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
19th May 2013 9:44pm
19th May 2013 9:44pm
Dearest
Mark the empty face with the nothing stare.. The clown has gone home, there is no one there.’
This is why you do not trust humans, this is why you run, run, run away from that stupid delusion they call love. This is why it took so fucking long for you to give an actual fragment of your shattered fucking heart to another living being again. This is why you fear abandonment. This is why you fear those three simple words the rest of the world so desperately want to hear. This is a reminder as to why you are so cold, ruthless & dead within that chamber you call your rib cage.
...
This is why you do not trust humans, this is why you run, run, run away from that stupid delusion they call love. This is why it took so fucking long for you to give an actual fragment of your shattered fucking heart to another living being again. This is why you fear abandonment. This is why you fear those three simple words the rest of the world so desperately want to hear. This is a reminder as to why you are so cold, ruthless & dead within that chamber you call your rib cage.
...
637 reads
1 Comment
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
11th Apr 2013 00:48am
11th Apr 2013 00:48am
Dearest Mother,
Dear Mother,
Where do I even begin? You are the source of alot of my pain. And I know, you had me at 15 years old. You were a child yourself. A child with a child. What were you thinking? I imagine myself now, at 22, in your shoes, with a 7 year old.. I could never have been that person.
I hold alot of hate towards you. So much anger. Why? You are fucking weak. Pathetic. You have never been a mother to me. And your neglect & abuse left me emotionally scarred beyond belief. You should have protected me but you left me open to predators.
Do you remember the...
Where do I even begin? You are the source of alot of my pain. And I know, you had me at 15 years old. You were a child yourself. A child with a child. What were you thinking? I imagine myself now, at 22, in your shoes, with a 7 year old.. I could never have been that person.
I hold alot of hate towards you. So much anger. Why? You are fucking weak. Pathetic. You have never been a mother to me. And your neglect & abuse left me emotionally scarred beyond belief. You should have protected me but you left me open to predators.
Do you remember the...
692 reads
LOVE POEM
Published
4th Apr 2013 3:42am
4th Apr 2013 3:42am
Unrequited.
We seem to have gotten lost along the way. I am still trying to remember exactly when I lost your hand, though I know that I had lost my mind long before that.
Where did you go? Where did you sleep? Are you as lonely as I?
I had never been in love, never known love until we met. That fateful night when you grabbed me & kissed me. Without even saying a word before. It was then, that I fell in love with you.
For losing you, I have none other to blame than myself. And I try to forgive. The abused became the abuser. A statistic. A hollow shell of my former self....
Where did you go? Where did you sleep? Are you as lonely as I?
I had never been in love, never known love until we met. That fateful night when you grabbed me & kissed me. Without even saying a word before. It was then, that I fell in love with you.
For losing you, I have none other to blame than myself. And I try to forgive. The abused became the abuser. A statistic. A hollow shell of my former self....
894 reads
5 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
3rd Apr 2013 11:28pm
3rd Apr 2013 11:28pm
Ode to Lust.
font=Lucida Sans Unicode,Lucida Grande] My heart is pounding in my chest cavity.
I can feel it race in the pit of my stomach.
The key to my peace of mind. My breathe quickens & deepens...My heart beats faster & slower, all at the same time. Not only are my knees weak but my fingers, elbows, lips, hips. My body aches for her. Universal energies aligned.
My heart beats faster & slower at the same time.
[font]
I can feel it race in the pit of my stomach.
The key to my peace of mind. My breathe quickens & deepens...My heart beats faster & slower, all at the same time. Not only are my knees weak but my fingers, elbows, lips, hips. My body aches for her. Universal energies aligned.
My heart beats faster & slower at the same time.
[font]
672 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
26th Mar 2013 5:11pm
26th Mar 2013 5:11pm
Something More.
Postdated; circa May 2004
These are the four walls of confinement, four walls of protection. I have been here for so long, that the air smells the same. That dense, heavy stench of confusion, loss & regret.
Unfathomed, I succumb to the vanities of death. Chase the pain away with those bottles from underneath Grans kitchen sink, faster than you used to run from those boys in your class who tried to kiss your hand whilst exclaiming "Kisschasey - you're it! " & wake up, engulfed by these walls, these violent delights, these desperate ends.
I trace the tips of...
These are the four walls of confinement, four walls of protection. I have been here for so long, that the air smells the same. That dense, heavy stench of confusion, loss & regret.
Unfathomed, I succumb to the vanities of death. Chase the pain away with those bottles from underneath Grans kitchen sink, faster than you used to run from those boys in your class who tried to kiss your hand whilst exclaiming "Kisschasey - you're it! " & wake up, engulfed by these walls, these violent delights, these desperate ends.
I trace the tips of...
637 reads
2 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
26th Mar 2013 5:06pm
26th Mar 2013 5:06pm
And so I asked myself, what if?
What if I were to tell you that some days see me terrified to simply step outside? To venture beyond the security provided by the clearly definitive skirted outline, the separation of where my carpet begins & the carpeted hallway of the landing upon the opposing side of my studio door ends. The carpet remains whole, as one invisible wall stands strong.
What if you knew that the deepest fear I know as my own is how empty I have felt in more moments of my life than any twenty three year old girl should ever have found herself? How I worry that the vacancy of the hollow fragment I...
What if you knew that the deepest fear I know as my own is how empty I have felt in more moments of my life than any twenty three year old girl should ever have found herself? How I worry that the vacancy of the hollow fragment I...
629 reads
1 Comment
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
10th Mar 2013 6:50am
10th Mar 2013 6:50am
Baby Vamp.
The spotlight is on…
Walking through those curtains, I feel no physical change..
It’s almost as if I become robotic, my mind kind of goes blank, I sigh when I pick up that familiar bottle of methylated spirits to clean the pole & the stage floor..
Martini is ready to perform..
I know the butt man from the genital man from the breast man..
It’s not hard to guess, he catches your eye before lingering on the object of desire.. than looks away as uninterested.. I guarantee, if I emphasis that desire.. he’ll notice & than he’s mine.
Silly rabbit.
...
Walking through those curtains, I feel no physical change..
It’s almost as if I become robotic, my mind kind of goes blank, I sigh when I pick up that familiar bottle of methylated spirits to clean the pole & the stage floor..
Martini is ready to perform..
I know the butt man from the genital man from the breast man..
It’s not hard to guess, he catches your eye before lingering on the object of desire.. than looks away as uninterested.. I guarantee, if I emphasis that desire.. he’ll notice & than he’s mine.
Silly rabbit.
...
546 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
10th Mar 2013 6:28am
10th Mar 2013 6:28am
Such a beautiful f**king disaster.
You feel the warm, wet flood welling up inside your eye socket. And you swallow, careful not too choke on that massive lump inside your throat.
You’re angry. A volcano. But you are more disappointed. In yourself, in the Universe, cos right at that very moment… You can feel your entire life, stability, those shaking foundations on which you built your world slipping right through your fingers.
And it hurts your soul, wounds your courage, undermimes your pride. What do you do? What else is left to do? It feels as though your only option is giving up. It’s not like you haven’t...
You’re angry. A volcano. But you are more disappointed. In yourself, in the Universe, cos right at that very moment… You can feel your entire life, stability, those shaking foundations on which you built your world slipping right through your fingers.
And it hurts your soul, wounds your courage, undermimes your pride. What do you do? What else is left to do? It feels as though your only option is giving up. It’s not like you haven’t...
815 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by ShesitsinherSkin
