Hello, I say. Can you hear me?
I wish to talk to you, but you never seem to hear me.
Can you even see me? I'm standing right here, growing further and further away.
Why do you keep on pushing me back? Hello? Answer me, please. I cannot bear this churning feeling wrenching my heart apart, tears itching at my eyes but don't fall; my throat closing up, a wish to scream on the tip of my lips.
Hello? I call, uncertain and afraid. Is anybody home?
Nothing. An abandoned house with a doll trotting about. I'm that doll, aren't I? A dancing doll. That's what you want, isn't it? For me to follow your whims and advises; to be a good girl.
My fe
God loved the two girls at the end of my street.
Everywhere they went, they went together,
hand-in-hand so they didn't get lost,
laughing at everything and nothing
all at once.
He was so proud of them.
They never stole, they never swore,
they brushed their teeth twice a day
and always said their prayers.
It was a gift, said the townspeople,
that two girls as perfect as they were
were born in the same place.
an even greater gift, said they,
that those two were the best of friends.
Long nights spent giggling in rooms with closed doors
was a good thing, back then.
One day,
halfway between their houses
and in the middle of th
i wanted you but memory will do by xfuture-boundx, literature
Literature
i wanted you but memory will do
i wore a locket around my neck
full of stardust that fell on the nights we stayed
away from the bonfire
because you understood that i can't breathe well in crowds
without me having to say a word.
i took your hand as we walked through the woods because
i was scared of
crossing strangers on narrow paths and
i would let go again when we passed them by but
your fingers lingered and i still wonder if maybe
you had hoped that mine would too.
i can't run like you do but
i do it anyway,
at this point i'm a runaway
(get it, i run away from everything that scares me)
here one day, gone the next,
with no trace that i ever existed except for a whiff of
groupthink and gardens by xfuture-boundx, literature
Literature
groupthink and gardens
we've grown so used to
stepping on flower buds before they can bloom because
they're a different color than everyone else's and
different doesn't fall into the category of "good" or "acceptable."
different doesn't fit here,
so we try and try again to soak stems in food colored water and
thick-coat paint on petals hoping that maybe our defects
will sprout some sense and learn to conform
and match the rest.
we took seeds from other gardens
and planted them in our own until our yards
looked the exact same as theirs and then
our flowers weren't a different color than everyone else's anymore and
that scared me.
i wanted deviation;
i had no desire
Can you call me beautiful?
Even when society says No?
Can you say I'm pretty,
When I have no skin to show?
Can you call me stunning?
Even if I'm overweight?
Can you say I'm graceful?
Even If I develop late?
Can you call me gorgeous?
When my face is plain?
Can you say I'm cute?
Even if I have a brain?
Can you call me lovely?
Even If I speak my mind?
Can you say I'm dazzling?
If I'm socially not refined?
Can you call me attractive?
Even if my eyes don't glow?
Can you say I'm glamorous?
If my skin isn't as pale as snow?
Can you call me beautiful…?
stretching her legs over
the sidewalk beneath the
overpass, ankles crossed,
feet wearing dirt like socks
but her dress feels like silk,
and her hands hold each
other like puzzle pieces
This is enough for her
This is enough
for her This is
enough for her
the ghost in my shadow by xfuture-boundx, literature
Literature
the ghost in my shadow
it's hard to keep you off my mind
when all the poems i write and revise
have you caulked between the lines;
you were such a beautiful thing,
did you know that?
beautiful and broken and a heartache,
but that's okay because sad things can be lived through vicariously,
so you make even prettier poetry.
i could write about all the stars in your eyes
or the colors bleeding past the lines of
chemically-infused skylines
or copper-toned railroads paving our minds and
wispy headlights on asphalt but
never mind.
because none of it could ever be as wondrous as you
(if only you could've seen that,
or no -
if only i could've been the one to make you belie
something more and silver linings by xfuture-boundx, literature
Literature
something more and silver linings
change is inevitable.
and no matter how hard we try to
run from it,
it offsets our centers of gravity and sucks us in,
grabbing roughly with invisible hands
and leaving blue watercolor drip-smears on hidden hip bones.
i was nothing like the rest;
i wanted something different,
when everyone else was content with mistreatment
i was desperate for a heart that wasn't broken
and starved to deplete the malnourishment i left unspoken,
that's the sad thing about people-
they're shot down enough that eventually
they think they deserve it and they fall in love with barrels and bullets and
the adrenaline of someone else's finger on the trigger
but i wa
Nothing, the absence of by Itsjustwordsreally, literature
Literature
Nothing, the absence of
Sometimes you wait for the dust to settle,
Pacing circles incapable to comprehend.
That your movement prolongs the battle,
That it might just be me who needs to understand.
To stand still, think, overthink, and then: void,
You leave the room, in knowledge, never to forget.
Just to tone it down as if the room were celluloid.
Finally to understand nothing depicts the sincerest regret.
I wish I could sing
Songs so powerful as to
Bring this ink to life
So powerful as to
Imprint you with a voice
So pure, so steadfast
Its message be heard
Far and wide, across the world
Hark my soul’s plight
Put me back together
Dr. Frankenstein
But leave the scars
From which I’ll learn
I philosophise of forgotten stars
I care not for muted melodies
That share no warmth, digressing from my daydream
I realise…
Oh, how I wish I could sing
Songs so powerful as to
Bring the sun back to light
So powerful as to
Print empty space with stars so bright,
So elegant
Their shine be seen
Far and wide, across a million galaxies
Hark t