Submissions by robolantern13
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
A free, old soul. I walk through walls and boundaries, and discuss what's on the other side.
SELF POEM
Published
31st Jul 2016 1:28am
31st Jul 2016 1:28am
Alien
I don't think I'm from around these
parts. My hair is too long, my eyes are
too big, my frame is too frail. People
stare at the etchings carved into my
flesh, and I feel their misunder-
standings like a viscous grey humidity.
Of the thousands of words I've
obsessed over, writing and writing of
my tribulations, "acceptance" is one I've
never bothered looking up. The five-year-
old I was would look at me with bluer, but
knowing eyes.
I am the only of my kind here, the only like-
ness found in mutual vexation. I don't...
parts. My hair is too long, my eyes are
too big, my frame is too frail. People
stare at the etchings carved into my
flesh, and I feel their misunder-
standings like a viscous grey humidity.
Of the thousands of words I've
obsessed over, writing and writing of
my tribulations, "acceptance" is one I've
never bothered looking up. The five-year-
old I was would look at me with bluer, but
knowing eyes.
I am the only of my kind here, the only like-
ness found in mutual vexation. I don't...
515 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
30th Jul 2016 10:50am
30th Jul 2016 10:50am
Dreams
Sleep comes sweetly, but incessant
dreams leave me restless. I've grown
weary of the flashbacks, visions of the
passed past cuddle up to me in my
slumber, then strangle my neck.
After nearly two years, I still have the
urge to call, check up. Did the
wedding fall through? Did he mess
up? Am I not the only man you set
up to be made into a monster then
forcibly bled out into a measuring
cup?
I mean, sure, I rebounded too. But
engaged half a year after the break-
up astounded me too much for ...
dreams leave me restless. I've grown
weary of the flashbacks, visions of the
passed past cuddle up to me in my
slumber, then strangle my neck.
After nearly two years, I still have the
urge to call, check up. Did the
wedding fall through? Did he mess
up? Am I not the only man you set
up to be made into a monster then
forcibly bled out into a measuring
cup?
I mean, sure, I rebounded too. But
engaged half a year after the break-
up astounded me too much for ...
804 reads
5 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
29th Jul 2016 11:03pm
29th Jul 2016 11:03pm
Dear Life
Dear Life,
If you could please fix yourself instead of
waiting on my sorry ass to do it, I
would like that now rather than
later. A job I don't loathe that pays
enough, a girl just my height and type,
more than one good friend, my own place,
you know I'd like that a lot. And while you're
at it, please purge the shit-awful
thoughts from my head, the doubt, the
anxiousness and smothering depressive
episodes, the aimless, directionless
gadding about, the addictions, and
tighten all the bolts in there - or fuck it - just
get rid of...
If you could please fix yourself instead of
waiting on my sorry ass to do it, I
would like that now rather than
later. A job I don't loathe that pays
enough, a girl just my height and type,
more than one good friend, my own place,
you know I'd like that a lot. And while you're
at it, please purge the shit-awful
thoughts from my head, the doubt, the
anxiousness and smothering depressive
episodes, the aimless, directionless
gadding about, the addictions, and
tighten all the bolts in there - or fuck it - just
get rid of...
607 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
29th Jul 2016 11:07am
29th Jul 2016 11:07am
Visage
The second day dawns. I am
willing, but tired, defeated some-
what by a display of upfront
honesty. Beautiful honesty, beautiful
people, were they not so
far away.
Maybe they see something my
shifting eyes cannot in
myself. Those eyes in a
mirror that can only look upon
the skin, but haven't the love of
self to pierce it.
Today, I will sit, and I will
brood, as I do. I will look for the
reasons this honesty was not
deserved, but merely a result of my
misrepresentation. A visage. Skin-
tight, it fits too well....
willing, but tired, defeated some-
what by a display of upfront
honesty. Beautiful honesty, beautiful
people, were they not so
far away.
Maybe they see something my
shifting eyes cannot in
myself. Those eyes in a
mirror that can only look upon
the skin, but haven't the love of
self to pierce it.
Today, I will sit, and I will
brood, as I do. I will look for the
reasons this honesty was not
deserved, but merely a result of my
misrepresentation. A visage. Skin-
tight, it fits too well....
720 reads
10 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
28th Jul 2016 7:01pm
28th Jul 2016 7:01pm
Day One
This is my fifty-first
day one, "but this time feels
different," I say. I always
say.
Anxious pools pulling, can't
sleep through downpours any-
more, body twists and turns on
a couch barely big enough.
Wake feeling the same, but
knowing this day was chosen, hand-
picked by neurosis to prove that
point yet again that I, as I
appear to you behind bright-
backed screens over leagues and
acres, am an utter disaster.
This, I do not say, but write. I
put it into permanence. It will ...
day one, "but this time feels
different," I say. I always
say.
Anxious pools pulling, can't
sleep through downpours any-
more, body twists and turns on
a couch barely big enough.
Wake feeling the same, but
knowing this day was chosen, hand-
picked by neurosis to prove that
point yet again that I, as I
appear to you behind bright-
backed screens over leagues and
acres, am an utter disaster.
This, I do not say, but write. I
put it into permanence. It will ...
624 reads
5 Comments
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