[x]

XXXXXEven now,
part of me
(my hands)
want to
pull out
that glass
she lodged
in her neck.

Pull it out
and drop it
into pieces,
or keep it
in the back seat
of my car.

Where it can
lay a while
and stare at me.
Part of me
(my chest)
is not afraid
of demons.

It is far less
dangerous
than girls with
haphazard knives
and other
monsters.

Chasing Butterflies

I believe in starry nights writing timeless songs
of all the yesterdays and tomorrows yet to come.

I believe in hearing the voice of love in rhyme;
I heard it as a child in my mother's lullabies.

Let's go down to the river now
and chase the butterflies.

I believe in playing, absorbing life's full sun,
dancing through the day until the night is done.

I believe in wishing wells never running dry,
granting us the time for a tender, slow goodbye.

Let's go down to the river now
and chase the butterflies.

Should I cross to the other side,
don't you worry; don't you cry.

There you'll see where tomorrow I'll be,
forever chasing butterflies...

A Rebel's BloodI lived on hollow promises and
dreams as thin as mist.

And kings and lords
who offer gold
in return for my head.

Through the Golden Palace Gates
I'm met with oaths, made to be broken.
I'm met with lies and truths, unspoken.
I'm met with eyes that have seen what I
never dreamed of seeing.
And eyes of crying, blind, fresh beings.
I'm met with suffocated desires.
I'm met with raging hateful fires.

There's a masked man who was paid
a few million pieces to chop my head.
He raises a sword. All what there ever was fades.

I shut my eyes...
I breathe.

on excusesthe floor creaked with a pressing tone
and my toes crept sadly toward you.
i heard the sounds
deep inside of your throat-
before they could come out,
before you could think them,
before you could stutter an
apology.

i was up all night and
the thought that, you,
were sleeping somewhere
naked, with your fingers
stretching and your dreams
retching up what you couldn't
admit to awake- was too much for me.
maybe if i
was next to you while you
were dreaming, your body
would admit to me that you
loved me. and you wanted to make
me cum. it had been so long.

you blinked hard, fast
your eyes shaking, dying fish.
i pulled you apart
like the ribbon

HollowHollow
Is her chest.

She feels around for emotions;
Sadness and anger is what she has mastered the best.

World moves around her
In top-speed rate,

While she stands still or get maneuvered around
Like a dense grey stone in the rapids of fate.

Erosion shapes her outsides
As a rough unapproachable being;

It builds up the pressure inside
Where she's really quite more softer than what you're seeing.

But don't expect for there to be a heart,
It's already shattered to pieces and is reformed from charred coals;

Even now and again it is crumbling apart;
Life has filled it with so many holes....

Hollow
Is her chest.

She feels no emotion,
Exce

EqualityEquality

Today my rainbow flag
Stands proud next to
The American flag.

Today my flag is counted
Equal. Represents equality
To our nation.

Today the rainbow flag
Represents the gay
Community not as a

Separate any longer
But as a whole. As
My state Minnesota
Legalizes gay marriage.

On The Collapse Of Modern Society"I've never seen so many folks
putting their hopes
in packaged air,
as far as I'm concerned,
and from what I've observed
misplacing material worth while
rushing back and forth
to get nowhere."
my Grandma said,
shaking her head.

False ProphetsPoems and love songs breed dead dreams,
strangled by weeds, face down in the ground
with no roses to mourn them.

Singers are poets that croon
(if you happen to lose your little heart to their tune)
and poets are false prophets -
true love will last forever
if they care to write it,
but not if you swallow the lines...

yet, they always do.

We all have a place
set for us in the shade
in our own private garden of weeds.

BalanceWe tend to see the bad in the good
But not the good in the bad
And it turns out we missed
Just how much good we had
Because life is all ups and downs
As the saying goes
But instead of striving for ups
We just go with the flow
We overlook what’s around us
And only focus within
When it should be about balance
Like a bird in the wind

Too strong, too weakWe were on the verge of wisdom but
So young, still.
As young as the freshly born flowers,
Too weak for winter, too strong for love.
We've believed often that the world
Belonged to us
And we let our emotions take us deep.
We were young lovers,
Young haters,
Young liars,
And young fools.
My mother taught me to block out my tears.
She said that when we start feeling, truly feeling
We will sink into the abyss of madness.
"I will never love. I will never hate," said the golden girl.
"I will never cry. I will never fear," said she.

Prayer to Odin from experienceAl-father Odin! You who hung for 9 days and suffered on the tree of Yggdrasil.
In so you received and gave us the runes and its mysteries.
You who have given up an eye to see and know beyond sight and knowledge.
Allow me to be strong through my own sacrifice and suffering.
So that one day, I can achieve great wisdom through what has happened to me.
Allow my mind to open and to focus on what i must do.
One day, I cannot always criticize what is before me.
From experience, I was angry and put down a faith that i knew was untrue.
Though you may have smacked me upside the head a few times
for my foolishness and ignorance. But I did deserve it a

Within A BoxIt's a prison for the minds of haunted souls
an odd prison, not large enough to contain its prisoners
and yet it encompasses every fiber of their being
in silent, silent spaces.
Haunted souls are searching for the key
there is no key, but they don't know any better
and what harm could it do? Hope is better than nothing
here's an unlocked open door for you.
Little trinkets haunt souls with their questions
and we want answers, but they won't give
anything away. Very smart,
you know the world is ending soon.
(The best of which are only
crude descriptions of the magic
they are looking for.)

Evolution of life

child, we dream
teenager, we have ideas
adult, we have a bar code encrusted in the nape

we evolve to finish in the matrix

Lovers and assassinsNight
walk

Second BestI always win silver, never gold;
I'm constantly pushed to the
Back seat of life, envious eyes
Fixed on the powerful driver's seat.

Someone is better than me, not
Once but annoyingly all the time.
I give the essence of passion and
Yet modesty lacks bright success.

Perhaps throwing my hands up
In the air with defeat is the
Only good thing in my miserable life;
I will always be second best.

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More from ~projectilewordvomit

Envy:Obituaries.
Scanning elderly faces.
Reads, "passed peacefully".

St. Patrick's resolution.There’s a reason why the sting of alcohol
cuts deeper than the initial burn.
Why the clink of glasses resembles
the smash of ceramic on a kitchen floor.

When everyone on New Year’s
touched glasses of champagne and traded resolutions,
you found yours in the bottom of a bottle of vodka.
By the time St. Patrick’s Day arrives,
we’ve all forgotten how we’re supposed to be better people.
We don green hats and cheap strings of beads
and try to convince ourselves we're lucky one day a year.

Someone pours shots at the party
and another raises a glass.
To luck, they say as they fade
like the clover-green of you

Displacement.In the past four years,
it seems I've forgotten how
to say the word 'home'.

One, two, threeMy boyfriend watched, open mouthed
as I unscrewed the lid of your urn,
and ran my fingers through your ashes.
Your depression, your soul dust.
I felt nothing other than
an ocean roiling beneath my ribs,
and an urge to hold the brass ossuary,
and rock you back and forth
like you did for me when I was young.
-
At the funeral, my uncle announced
that you despised religion.
But he left out the part
where you did believe in a God,
just that he was always punishing you.
-
“There was nothing you could have done”
said the other uncle.
I think of all those spent wishes,
the birthday candles extinguished for gifts,
the meteor showers I wasted on love,
the prayers offered from family friends
that are now given a little too late.
-
This year, I turn 22 years old.
But when I blow out the candles,
my wish won’t matter.
None of them did.

Fill in the blank.Sometimes people leave
these why-sized holes in our lives
after they depart.

Carbidopa-LevodopaThe bank gave you a pink sheet of paper and 6 months,
Mom gave you a garbage bag of clothes and a slammed door,
The doctor gave you three tests and a diagnosis.
Whoever said things were always going to be okay?
-
"Doc, I've come to tell you about the future!"
Marty McFly yells from the tv set.
Sorry, Marty. Nothing can fix this.
There is no going back.
-
Bulldozers have reduced our home to real estate.
Orange fencing, realty signs, stickers.
A plot of land has potential.
And us?
We are a statistic.
-
Michael J. Fox hocks Marty's shoes, counting on a cure,
and your nurse counts out your pills,
and you--
you count on me.

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Submitted: December 20, 2012
Submitted with: Sta.sh Writer

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Bolide

by ~projectilewordvomit, Dec 20, 2012, 10:48:45 AM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

If the world ends tomorrow--

My dad will sit out in a lawn chair
the freezing Minnesota air,
chainsmoking and smirking.

And you, maybe if you wanted,
we'd stand at the top of the Indian mounds
like we did on the Fourth of July years ago
and watch meteors firework across the sky.

There will be no mini doughnut stand this time,
no children laughing at the bright flashes,
but also no repentance.

If the world ends tomorrow,

you don't need to apologize for anything.
Hearts are fragile things
and it's not like this world
hasn't been struck by a meteor before.

Bolideby ~projectilewordvomit

Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

©2012-2013 ~projectilewordvomit

I woke up exactly 11 minutes ago and this happened.

=minninnewah Mar 17, 2013 Student Writer

Lovely concept. I'm really enjoying your writing style!

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~projectilewordvomit Mar 17, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

c:

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~Ysabetwordsmith Jan 15, 2013 Professional Writer

Bitter yet marvelous, especially that last line.

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~projectilewordvomit Jan 15, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you, I generally come up with the final lines first and write up to them.

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~Ysabetwordsmith Jan 15, 2013 Professional Writer

I've done that, writing from the end backwards.

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*0hgravity Dec 26, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

I like the bite in this.

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~projectilewordvomit Dec 26, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you for reading

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=StormBringer23 Dec 24, 2012

I, for one, am glad you didn't oversleep.

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~projectilewordvomit Dec 24, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

<3 Thank you ~

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=StormBringer23 Dec 24, 2012

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