Submissions by raised-by-wolves
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I'm unsure as to where my passions lie. I write for me not others. I take inspiration from the darkness and glimpses of light that life throws. I enjoy rawness and reality, with a surreal twist.
Lock jaw
If you see me in years to come, don't be afraid to say hello.
I won't sink my teeth or lock my jaw over things that were never mine.
I won't spit venom to burn your skin or scold your heart over things that I never had.
I won't look down on you from my pedestal, grudgingly and harshly over things that slipped away.
Bitterness is a taste reserved for the tongue,
not hearts and souls.
I won't sink my teeth or lock my jaw over things that were never mine.
I won't spit venom to burn your skin or scold your heart over things that I never had.
I won't look down on you from my pedestal, grudgingly and harshly over things that slipped away.
Bitterness is a taste reserved for the tongue,
not hearts and souls.
403 reads
1 Comment
f**k and Fight
473 reads
2 Comments
Broken glass
Tears roll down your cheeks, like molten glass when poured.
Crystal clear and ossifying as gravity draws them down, like an autumn trees dead leaves.
Drop by peaceable drop they cascade, like a waterfall glazed frozen for winter.
Hitting the floor to shatter.
Like all our hopes and plans.
Crystal clear and ossifying as gravity draws them down, like an autumn trees dead leaves.
Drop by peaceable drop they cascade, like a waterfall glazed frozen for winter.
Hitting the floor to shatter.
Like all our hopes and plans.
355 reads
1 Comment
Dry throat
In my mind the words form.
Culminating, arranging, creating.
The electrodes snap and spark into life.
But somewhere between thought and sound,
Brain and mouth,
Imagination and reality.
There's a crash, a wall, a barrier.
My mouth moves but no words leave.
Just a stutter, a stumble, a choke inside a dry throat, a blank page, a cage in which I am enclosed.
A room in which I am trapped.
And the words that my minds desires whispered fade into the void you left.
To never be spoken or heard or written.
The words that could've changed...
Culminating, arranging, creating.
The electrodes snap and spark into life.
But somewhere between thought and sound,
Brain and mouth,
Imagination and reality.
There's a crash, a wall, a barrier.
My mouth moves but no words leave.
Just a stutter, a stumble, a choke inside a dry throat, a blank page, a cage in which I am enclosed.
A room in which I am trapped.
And the words that my minds desires whispered fade into the void you left.
To never be spoken or heard or written.
The words that could've changed...
514 reads
0 Comments
Ashtray
Generic words and hallmark quotes work for some but this is life,not a bed of roses.
Not a bed of feathers and romance.
It's an unmade bed with all of the stains, creases and smells from last nights empty fire and passion.
Filth ridden and laced with disgust the soul powers to stretch and break all limits and moulds.
Acceptance in society is what you want isn't it?
To be accepted is to conform, to conform is to be contained and to be contained is to clip your wings.
A bird with out wings is just a ball of feathers thrown to the wind.
You can.
No...
Not a bed of feathers and romance.
It's an unmade bed with all of the stains, creases and smells from last nights empty fire and passion.
Filth ridden and laced with disgust the soul powers to stretch and break all limits and moulds.
Acceptance in society is what you want isn't it?
To be accepted is to conform, to conform is to be contained and to be contained is to clip your wings.
A bird with out wings is just a ball of feathers thrown to the wind.
You can.
No...
380 reads
5 Comments
BPD...Taking over me.
Some days It pays to stay away.
Keeping myself locked inside to avoid the trouble and madness I posses.
A ball of stress.
Not knowing what's reality or falseness.
I don't want to live inside my head, it's a mess.
Full of thoughts and hurt and dark spurts.
Slipping in and out of highs and lows.
Head shots and low blows.
Doors open then slam closed.
I don't want to have this trait, whenever I walk through gates, trying to make new mates, it all just breaks, I end up in a state, too much food on this plate for one mind to take, Is it...
Keeping myself locked inside to avoid the trouble and madness I posses.
A ball of stress.
Not knowing what's reality or falseness.
I don't want to live inside my head, it's a mess.
Full of thoughts and hurt and dark spurts.
Slipping in and out of highs and lows.
Head shots and low blows.
Doors open then slam closed.
I don't want to have this trait, whenever I walk through gates, trying to make new mates, it all just breaks, I end up in a state, too much food on this plate for one mind to take, Is it...
895 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by raised-by-wolves
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