Submissions by toniscales (Lost Girl)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I am very critical of my own work but I tend to love intensely, and writing is an emotional release and catharsis I can't seem to resist.
The Chair
Someone had left a large, black wheelchair next to the metal trash bin outside her apartment.
It looked to be in good condition. She dusted it off and slowly wheeled it through the front door of her place. It seemed sad for such a thing to be thrown away. She wondered if the person whom it had belonged to had maybe passed away.
She tried not to think about it.
Maybe she could have use for it. It would be a useful thing to transport trash bags with. She hated going to the trash bin, and there were already numerous bags of trash accumulating in her kitchen. ...
It looked to be in good condition. She dusted it off and slowly wheeled it through the front door of her place. It seemed sad for such a thing to be thrown away. She wondered if the person whom it had belonged to had maybe passed away.
She tried not to think about it.
Maybe she could have use for it. It would be a useful thing to transport trash bags with. She hated going to the trash bin, and there were already numerous bags of trash accumulating in her kitchen. ...
#depression
#loneliness
#dark
#bipolar
#despair
289 reads
1 Comment
From Ache and Rosettes, a Yearbook Volume 2
We're never ready for the dull pain of the
day. By fifteen I'm haunted by calla lilies.
The sad wilt of them from the vase on my
nightstand. A boy's voice on the phone
dripping with sex. The girl three counties
away who drank bleach til her throat
bloomed blue roses. My hair is in that
horrible in between stage, won't stay in its
clip. Little tendrils keep flying and adhering
to my glossed lips. That year the gnats came,
congesting the house with their tiny black
bodies. Choking all the white from the walls.
A strange sort of...
day. By fifteen I'm haunted by calla lilies.
The sad wilt of them from the vase on my
nightstand. A boy's voice on the phone
dripping with sex. The girl three counties
away who drank bleach til her throat
bloomed blue roses. My hair is in that
horrible in between stage, won't stay in its
clip. Little tendrils keep flying and adhering
to my glossed lips. That year the gnats came,
congesting the house with their tiny black
bodies. Choking all the white from the walls.
A strange sort of...
#sadness
#dark
#gothic
261 reads
3 Comments
From Ache and Rosettes, a Yearbook
I'm haunted by my childhood. Fascinated by pain. But it's good for a writer to be passionate about something. In middle school. The prom. How you told me to wear something white so my skin would look tan. Show a little cleavage. Never mind the black satin dress with rosettes my mother painstakingly sewed. The pink and white streamers, girls laughing at the tops of their lungs. Somewhere, the smell of stale beer. Somewhere down the hall, the echoing of screams.
It's exquisitely painful to see pictures of yourself from high school. You were so thin and pretty, then. But you hated...
It's exquisitely painful to see pictures of yourself from high school. You were so thin and pretty, then. But you hated...
#depression
#dark
#gothic #LifeStruggles
#gothic #LifeStruggles
290 reads
6 Comments
The Vanity
You sat at your vanity every night.
It was your evening ritual.
I heard you open the jar of cold cream,
Its heady, rose-scented fragrance wafting
Sweetly and comfortably in my nostrils.
In grand yet gentle strokes,
With long, elegant fingers
You rubbed it onto your face,
Skin pale yet luminous,
Taking care not to get any into
Ice-blue eyes like diamonds
That were never cold but only shone
With love for me. I remember
Your arched perfect brows,
The red Clara Bow pout of your lips.
The bed where you nestled me
In...
It was your evening ritual.
I heard you open the jar of cold cream,
Its heady, rose-scented fragrance wafting
Sweetly and comfortably in my nostrils.
In grand yet gentle strokes,
With long, elegant fingers
You rubbed it onto your face,
Skin pale yet luminous,
Taking care not to get any into
Ice-blue eyes like diamonds
That were never cold but only shone
With love for me. I remember
Your arched perfect brows,
The red Clara Bow pout of your lips.
The bed where you nestled me
In...
#love
#ILoveYou
308 reads
9 Comments
Somebody
I want somebody to share/
Share the rest of my life"
I sang to you
Soft infant
Smelling of angels' whispers
Ineffable sweetness
And everything right
Sweaty euphoria of your musical cry
When they cut open my stomach
And pulled you out like a book
That would rewrite these painful years
Of my quiet agony
A soul cursed by aloneness
Poisoned by chronic despair
And yet the terror of having you
Doc prescribing Xanax
Because I couldn't sleep
Knowing while you were in my womb
That I would fail you ...
Share the rest of my life"
I sang to you
Soft infant
Smelling of angels' whispers
Ineffable sweetness
And everything right
Sweaty euphoria of your musical cry
When they cut open my stomach
And pulled you out like a book
That would rewrite these painful years
Of my quiet agony
A soul cursed by aloneness
Poisoned by chronic despair
And yet the terror of having you
Doc prescribing Xanax
Because I couldn't sleep
Knowing while you were in my womb
That I would fail you ...
#love
#birth
#motherhood #daughter
#motherhood #daughter
258 reads
2 Comments
The Gift of Jacob
#love
#romantic
#ILoveYou #FallingInLove
#ILoveYou #FallingInLove
308 reads
3 Comments
Meth: A Love Story
I just want to feel good tonight.
I've been feeling so unnecessary.
I let him ripple his fingers
Through my jewelry box.
He's taking everything,
All my pretty things.
It's like a rape.
But I never feel pretty anymore.
I don't care.
I just want to feel good tonight.
He spies my rose shampoo
And conditioner.
"These, too?" he sneers.
"Whatever," I say.
I just want to feel good tonight.
I can't wait to feel good.
I know what it's like.
I've known it many times before. ...
I've been feeling so unnecessary.
I let him ripple his fingers
Through my jewelry box.
He's taking everything,
All my pretty things.
It's like a rape.
But I never feel pretty anymore.
I don't care.
I just want to feel good tonight.
He spies my rose shampoo
And conditioner.
"These, too?" he sneers.
"Whatever," I say.
I just want to feel good tonight.
I can't wait to feel good.
I know what it's like.
I've known it many times before. ...
#drugs
#addiction
1430 reads
6 Comments
Strange Fruit
This grief, it's what's most accessible. We hide in the morning in cat trees and thicket. Play possum in the ammunition field. The dawn grown bruised and soft like a plum. This sweet contagion, how I wear it on my glossed lips, my powdered dress. The white Mary Jane's that are never quite white. At dusk we scream bloody murder in the graves. Twist our bodies in the swings till we can't breathe. Our pockets jumbled with bones and crumpled school schedules. My mouth tasting of chocolate and a boy's heated breath. We're not quite innocent, not quite right, play light as a feather stiff as a...
#gothic
427 reads
4 Comments
Sunday Morning
It's been raining on and off.
I've been hurting recently,
a strange spot of darkness,
because I'm single and yearn
for a mate.
But now,
I'm in bed, listening to the gentle taps and patters, the soft music the rain makes, awash in a sea of pillows
and blankets. The cats are curled protectively around me.
I've been sleepy all day, and I nap
for bits and pieces of the day, wake up and nap again. I feel safe, warm,
and cozy. Okay to be alone.
It's a nice feeling.
Sunday morning;
the light returns.
I've been hurting recently,
a strange spot of darkness,
because I'm single and yearn
for a mate.
But now,
I'm in bed, listening to the gentle taps and patters, the soft music the rain makes, awash in a sea of pillows
and blankets. The cats are curled protectively around me.
I've been sleepy all day, and I nap
for bits and pieces of the day, wake up and nap again. I feel safe, warm,
and cozy. Okay to be alone.
It's a nice feeling.
Sunday morning;
the light returns.
#peace
324 reads
2 Comments
On Aging
I was always afraid
Of growing older.
I'm 47.
My twenties and thirties were dark,
Horrible times,
Storms of insecurity and uncertainty.
But now, peace has finally come.
I realize I don't need anyone
To make me happy.
I only have myself.
And that's enough.
It's okay to be alone.
Of growing older.
I'm 47.
My twenties and thirties were dark,
Horrible times,
Storms of insecurity and uncertainty.
But now, peace has finally come.
I realize I don't need anyone
To make me happy.
I only have myself.
And that's enough.
It's okay to be alone.
#aging
387 reads
2 Comments
Pictures for Jonathan Number Three
I think I'm ready.
I think I'm ready for you to leave.
I want myself back.
I want my life back.
But you were a beautiful dream.
The death of that dream hurts.
It will hurt for a long while.
But I'll be okay.
But you...
Your manipulation.
Your selfishness.
Your silence.
Your complete lack of appreciation
For anything I tried to do for you.
I'm done.
But I still see you in that one picture
I kept of you on my phone.
Your boyish face. ...
I think I'm ready for you to leave.
I want myself back.
I want my life back.
But you were a beautiful dream.
The death of that dream hurts.
It will hurt for a long while.
But I'll be okay.
But you...
Your manipulation.
Your selfishness.
Your silence.
Your complete lack of appreciation
For anything I tried to do for you.
I'm done.
But I still see you in that one picture
I kept of you on my phone.
Your boyish face. ...
#love
#UnrequitedLove
292 reads
3 Comments
Pictures for Jonathan Number Two
God it hurts.
It hurts to be near you.
You're sitting right next to me.
I yearn to touch you.
Hold you.
Put my head on your shoulder.
You're so beautiful to me.
Even though you haven't showered
In almost two weeks.
II.
I couldn't take it anymore.
Your eyes were closed.
I reached out and touched your face.
Softly kissed the corner of your mouth.
When I pulled away,
You pulled me back to you.
The whisper of your breath
On my lips.
You haven't brushed...
It hurts to be near you.
You're sitting right next to me.
I yearn to touch you.
Hold you.
Put my head on your shoulder.
You're so beautiful to me.
Even though you haven't showered
In almost two weeks.
II.
I couldn't take it anymore.
Your eyes were closed.
I reached out and touched your face.
Softly kissed the corner of your mouth.
When I pulled away,
You pulled me back to you.
The whisper of your breath
On my lips.
You haven't brushed...
#love
#UnrequitedLove
#ForbiddenLove
325 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by toniscales (Lost Girl)