writeblrina

mostly incoherent writing

[shamelessvoidofemotions]

I saw a face in the mirror

And had the urge to smash it

With mine

Because neither of them

Seemed right

[writeblrina]

Stumbling This

And in exile, i sink in your own. He laughs, she married for “love. He asked, sounding like a speaker. The young man grew older, though.

[sedehaven]

The Angel and the Butterfly (Stockholm Syndrome)

Eyes like cloudless skies

searching his granite face

for something like mercy.

~

She yields, soft as his feathers,

falls back and opens herself--

dog-desperate--pleading

~

through lips cracked and bleeding.

~

His hands are heavy on her wrists

as he impales her on God's will

and the pain is a dying butterfly

~

twisting on a pin. She screams

the burnt hymnals that the women sang

to a God made of colored glass.

~

Empty as a church. Immaculate

as a saint. He demands her flesh,

her blood, her breath.

~

Her tongue flicks over the scabs

of her lips as she whispers her prayers

to him. She holds out her steaming heart.

~

It pulses and drips copper. For him.

~

"I've never been," she says, as he coats

her soul in fool's gold. "But I'd heard

that Stockholm is lovely this time of year."

~

He laughs, and his laughter is something

like mercy over the music--the symphony

of her bloodstained prayers.

*

-- S. E. De Haven

[wordsbyt]

[writeblrina]

Trust me when i reminisce on christmases past what comes or goes no one will even know but you just can’t fix what is going to eat you alive.

[writeblrina]

The Next Step Encompassing Whisper

All alone i go with me, i want a death toll taller than these gallows of mine. There he was never jolly or thrumming with what happened at school. Embarrassed, the nor’easter blew harder, blurring our silhouettes. We make a heart feel seen.

[devinetheory-2]

You know who you are....

You are my everything

Blessed by your pressence

Your essence

forever brings

The best of things.

Makes me want

To be with you forever

Instead of sever things.

Together we're better

Than what we're weathering.

I know i said some things

But we're learning how to live

And how to forgive

So I'm excited to see

What these lessons bring.

Fed up when I mess up

These days

I confess

Im over stressed

No lies in some disguise

Im trying to dress up

I know im a mess but

I want better things

So why should we die

Inside

instead of dream

I could never let you go

You're my everything

- Devine Theory

[writeblrina]

Dear journal, my heart and i will always, always stay no matter how many eight year old boys have watched fathers go off to work, go off to work, go off to war?

[versesforthedew]

THE SHIELD

I want to build a shield around you

So that evil words may never touch you.

I will weave it from the beams of a full moon,

I will temper it in the blood of a hundred sunsets,

It will be light as a whisper,

But stronger than steel,

It will feel like my arms around you.

I'll kiss your forehead,

Send you to the battles

I can't help you fight

With the blessing of a dozen invisible stars.

F. P.

[writeblrina]

Keep on posting.

[writeblrina]

Poem: To

We can write, we all have our stillness to carry. And so it’s tonics and early-to-bed, expecting to rise. I had one last wish, i need directions. Complete & utter bullshit, if i could…. I’ve never been, ” to see. Strip me down, i swear.

[writeblrina]

10/23/15 Hridaya L

My golden gorgon, you can watch the witches zoom on their spindly legs. The stretchmarks on the current, and you do i speak, your eyes and listen to the brink of insanity. The space alien who hosts a slam poetry night. He has appeared in little corners of this walk.

[writeblrina]

—

Days before her wedding, her breath. This word, i design c h. Covered by lines, your move. Last year, i design c. One day, my heart, no.

[marleyworld]

I love when people find a love that’s perfect for them, without telling someone what kind of love they should have.

— Marley C. / perfect, for me.

[mortalghost]

Disenchanted prose flows through the world

That arose like a multi rhythmic beat

With the strike of another movement

Silently amaze and enrage the enraptured

Memories of bygone bygones

While betraying the illusions that are you

Look now beyond the mysteries of the barren

Landscape as the new gods are bowed to

Worshipping the tales of the brave and the strong

The just and the wrong

Winners bestowed with enormous egos

Self-righteousness engorged

For those of whom the bell tolls

Striking once

Twice

Three times

More

While we watch and learn

The world falls

-H. Murcia 9:46 AM 4/28/2021

[writeblrina]

I appreciate you.

[palladiumfragments]

We could’ve written hundreds of pathetic poems about each other’s eyes, enough to make Shakespeare turn in his grave. We could’ve talked about ancient civilizations and classic literature, or stayed up all night daydreaming with coffee-stained tongues. We could’ve rendezvoused in little corners of this big city and stroll along museums halls. I’d even tolerate your ramblings about things I don’t know about just so you’d tell me your thoughts because I’d like to hear them all. We could’ve never run out of things to talk about, as kindred spirits do. God, I could’ve even loved you forever.

Above us there is an ocean of nothing and everything, dappled with glimmers made out of people’s mindless wishes― and part of me hopes we happened somewhere there; with you as a childhood friend, or someone I met earlier in life, or as my endgame if the universe is being ridiculous. A beautiful thought that would’ve been a beautiful truth, don’t you think?

But this heart belongs to a good soul now and would never want to be held by any other. It doesn’t matter that this idea haunted me for weeks or that I’ve debated whether I’d write about this or not, because everything I’ve written here are the kind people say when they’re weaving fanciful scenarios in their head or in the morning when they’re half-asleep. My imagination may have led me to this treacherous bank but this curiosity is a river I wouldn’t dare cross.

You’re a marvelous star, darling, but I’m already home.

— autumn artemis, Unsent Letter for John

photo from: pinterest

[writeblrina]

Poem: Of The Web And Tv Are Dominated

One day, one more to the ground - i hear this language express the unspeakable. Days before her stare, i think i would have regretted it a. She wears a plain white headdress, but of understanding and truth. What if he just cosby’d me, she leaves me on read. Please have faith, as november nights lovingly peel my skin. Her father—well, he and his brand new wife became penniless.

[writeblrina]

To Not Be A Perfectionist”

“oh, somewhere in the palm of your every waking day in (read: over half your life), with a tree’s heart and the way of her progress at school. Embarrassed, the freezer where they keep the ice cream and dead bodies (one of which would eventually be mine). The stillness amplifies and arms each sound - a morning so sublime. But still there is no rulebook on how to make shakespeare turn in his mother’s eyes that shines like the others. It stops briefly as if the fleeing spector turns to tip it’s hat, and set up a tall orange ladder to pick the crate labeled “apples” that had grown on a weekday, but it will not protect you from their whims or wrath comprehend the irony that being!

[fs-lewisartistry]

I wonder what it’s like on your pedestal, so high.

Worshipped like a martyr and yet, you never died.

[writeblrina]

I didn’t expect to find a scene so absurd and it’s fucking tragic in a graphic way imma die today my soul is gonna drown and then there’s this is all i hear the almost unhearable sound of the most loving acts you can give me my diamond with this!

A corpse beneath made-up face; i am wrong.