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Literature Text
Jacelyn who never smiles
Suffers through the endless trials
Of a rotting candyland
Crumbling to collapse like sand.
Jacelyn with skin so pale,
Never slips the slightest wail
As she watches dreams so bright
Mottle, rust, and lose their light.
Jacelyn with eyes so dim,
Who did cause your world to spin?
Who brought down their mighty hand:
A father, mother, or a friend?
Jacelyn who sheds no tears,
Why don't you vocalize your fears?
Anything just to forget
The wailing echo of regret.
Jacelyn with heart so bruised,
It hurts to know that you've been used,
Beaten, thrown upon the floor,
Broken, down into the core.
Jacelyn no soul could save,
Now is lying in the grave
Her magic shining dreams of light
Fading lost into the night.
Suffers through the endless trials
Of a rotting candyland
Crumbling to collapse like sand.
Jacelyn with skin so pale,
Never slips the slightest wail
As she watches dreams so bright
Mottle, rust, and lose their light.
Jacelyn with eyes so dim,
Who did cause your world to spin?
Who brought down their mighty hand:
A father, mother, or a friend?
Jacelyn who sheds no tears,
Why don't you vocalize your fears?
Anything just to forget
The wailing echo of regret.
Jacelyn with heart so bruised,
It hurts to know that you've been used,
Beaten, thrown upon the floor,
Broken, down into the core.
Jacelyn no soul could save,
Now is lying in the grave
Her magic shining dreams of light
Fading lost into the night.
Literature
loveisamentalillness
You say it is my fault for forcing
you to imprint scars into my flesh
and bones but I can't bring
myself to care.
You tell me I am beautiful,
I release a breath of relief as
I count my rib cage one by one,
swirls of dark purple yellow black
blue red on my thighs, my once
light chocolate skin fading away
to pale.
You demand I do not see him 'cause
then I will leave you and I do not try to
reassure you 'cause deep down
in my gut, I wonder if you are right.
(I miss him and his soft touches-
I did not believe him when he yelled out
I was falling straight into hell but
I know I should have-I could have been
flying to
Literature
What It Isn't Is What It Is
This is not a love letter.
It's not a reminder of midnight stargazing, kissing under our bright yellow umbrella, witching hour phone calls, or slow dances. Because, my dearest, everyone knows that those are all so cliche like forgotten lace Valentines, broken promises, afternoon walks through the park, and a bouquet of a dozen thornless, dewy, bright, perfect red roses.
This is not a love poem.
It's not memories of Spearmint chewing gum kisses, tic-tac-toe in hot beach sand, you holding me and stroking my hair on Lazy Sundays, or whispers in a dark movie theater, complete with buttery popcorn. Because, m
Literature
you told me the truth
the truth i made you promise to tell me.
the truth i wasn't ready to hear.
..never expected to hear.
you claim it was a mistake:
confused, a cluttered mind and stress pervading your thoughts;
betrayal, fear and a guarded heart that froze you..
well i was freezing
when i walked outside in twenty degrees at three in the morning
a place to clear my head
a street to turn teardrops into ice slopes on chafed cheeks
a pavement my feet couldn't feel beneath me because no feeling existed in my body
like the clawing at my arm that burned in four red lines
carved from the same fingernails you fell in love with the night before for scratching
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c: Wrote this today in class: was feeling crazily poetic. XD
Do you guys think the ending cuts off too soon? It kind of feels like it. :c
Do you guys think the ending cuts off too soon? It kind of feels like it. :c
© 2010 - 2024 shayerahol22
Comments49
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Overall
Vision Originality Technique ImpactIt may seen bizarre to say, and even prejudice to a degree, but I get the feeling this is about a goth. Now I don't usually stereotype but all the right connotations are there with the palety, the sullen look, the grave and the overall feeling of being left out of society.
However, goth or not, it seems that Jacelyn has had a really aweful time of it lately, and you've put that across to readers really well. The ambience of denial and self-inflicting guilt all lie within your well-chosen and equally well-placed words, ready to be picked apart by anyone who comes across this literary delight.
Your technique of doubling up rhyming verses, two at a time, within each stanza isn't exactly uncommon, but nowhere else have I seen it been used to such a marvellous and appropriate use. It gives this poem a deeper feel, an urgent need to keep up all the time with each heartbeart, each teardrop, each self-infliction that Jacelyn is giving us.
I love it, and I think you've done a really good job of transposing this from your mind onto paper.