I’m a blurry train wreck
I’m the bottom of a pit
I’m the black ice in the winter
I’m the darkest rain cloud
I’m the sting from the bee
I’m a fading car crash
I’m the dust on the ground
I’m the tears in my lonely eyes
I’m a distant social disease
I’m the monster under my bed
I’m the skeleton in my closet
I’m the spider creating my own web
I’m the tarantula in the desert
I’m the demon in my soul
braedenmichaels
Elastic
I saw you between the kaleidoscopic tears and wretched veins. I kept my distance and harbored the burnt edges of my existence. I clashed with harmony and my own walls that I have personally built. I stand between your denial and my built up frustrations. I walk away to hold on to my sanity knowing my dreams will never come true. I live for you. I live for what I love not the picket fences you created. I always thought love was elastic.
****
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Drunk on the Moon
(1st Verse)
You use to cut me with your sharp tongue,
You use to blind me with your fears that were brighter than the sun.
You use to shake the roots in our ground,
You use to scream and somehow you were no where to be found.
Our walls started to crumble from the darkest skies…
I could hear it, somehow I didn’t fear it,
Don’t worry I didn’t mind hearing you say goodbye.
Chorus:
I’ve been drunk on the moon,
Wishing you couldn’t see my scars.
I’ve been drunk on the moon,
Not far from the spinning star.
I’ve been drunk on the moon,
So happy to be on the other side.
I’ve been drunk on the moon,
Someone else has finally made me feel alive.
(2nd Verse)
You use to say the cruelest words,
You use to laugh when you knew it hurt.
You use to run to the hills as my colors fade,
You use to dance on my rainbow in my parade.
Our walls started to cave from the wind of the storm,
I could see it, I do believe it,
Don’t worry I didn’t mind you walking out the door.
Chorus:
I’ve been drunk on the moon,
Wishing you couldn’t see my scars.
I’ve been drunk on the moon,
Not far from the spinning star.
I’ve been drunk on the moon,
So happy to be on the other side.
I’ve been drunk on the moon,
Someone else has finally made me feel alive.
Bridge:
I didn’t mind feeling your thorn,
I didn’t mind knowing a part of me was torn.
I had to meet you to get where I am now.
I had to be lost to see I’m already found.
I didn’t mind walking on this broken road,
I didn’t mind finding the depths of my soul.
Chorus:
I’ve been drunk on the moon,
Wishing you couldn’t see my scars.
I’ve been drunk on the moon,
Not far from the spinning star.
I’ve been drunk on the moon,
So happy to be on the other side.
I’ve been drunk on the moon,
Someone else has finally made me feel alive
Simply Beautiful
You don’t need stunning
lipstick to make you sexy
You don’t need layers
of make up to make you beautiful
Just be real
You don’t need curves
to make you ravishing
You don’t need to perform
sexual acts to make you desirable
Just be honest
You don’t need to hide
all of the layers that make up you
Just be simply beautiful
***
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Jonny Lang- Good Morning Little Girl
Stench of Loneliness
I wish
I could cough up
the self hatred
from my lungs
I wish
I could remove
the stench of
loneliness
from my skin
I wish
I could wash
the scorching anger
from my eyes
I wish
I could be someone
other than myself
The Beautiful Rising Sun (Braeden’s Writing Challenge)
Up in a turpentine sky
A cloudless mirage echoes
Brilliance glows
Mornings splash
Abundance of joy sparkles
Fires twinkle
Souls singing
Hope is renewed
Faith is guided
All from the rising of the sun
*Priya had chosen this title for the challenge.
Prozac Nation
Rambunctious vile
Distasteful and loathsome
Repellant personality
Excruciating voice
Webs of rancid exteriors
A horrid smell of selfishness
Obnoxious point of view
Infamous small mind
Vindictiveness renders
Full filling the lonely
Unable to stand
Crawling like a two month baby
Expecting society to
play an orchestra for a
Prozac Nation
Broken Bottle Highway (Braeden’s Writing Challenge #2)
Chasing a high-pitch shout
down an empty bottle
Retracing every convoluted
and mindless discussion
that was conjured up
Deciding not to dwell or
wallow in your demise
doesn’t change that I
can feel every chard of glass
down Broken Bottle Highway
You call yourself a lost soul
but parts of you just vanish
You claim to seek the answers
to the questions you already know
Along the path of stubbornness
Broken Bottle Highway
runs parallel to your demons
I Am
I don’t measure myself by the dollar earned
I don’t measure myself by possessions
I don’t measure myself by the scars
I don’t measure myself by what I write
I don’t measure myself by the quantity of friends
I don’t measure myself by my beliefs
I don’t measure myself by who I know
I don’t measure myself by my fears
I don’t measure myself by my philosophies
I don’t measure myself by my tears
I just don’t measure myself
I am who I am
Shadow of You: Anchor in the Fog
Overflowing drops of sadness
crash the grounds of reality
Waves of anger and frustration
soar through every vein
Camouflaging the numbness
wakens the frozen memories
Slowly losing the crack of a smile
shades of grey and black entwine
A living ghost I am, alone—
all that is left of you
I talk in my sleep when I’m wide awake
In limbo I reach out to you,
my anchor in the fog
Overflowing mourning bellows
shattering the reflection in the mirror
Staring into the depths of your selfishness
stirring the darkest hurricanes
Consuming prescriptions of self-hatred
scream at your tarnished soul
Slowly your existence forever fades
whirlwinds of chaos downpour into your loved ones
A living ghost I am, alone—
evidence of your life
I keep together with special effects
And all I want is to touch you,
my anchor in the fog
Overflowing rain of melancholy
drip into the silence of your grave
Crumbled walls are now at your feet
as clouds hang over your torn shadow
Dwelling into your perfectionism
dismantles your steel cage
Slowly your wishes become true
Your actions speak a thousand poems
than the words you spoke alive
A living ghost I am no more—
I’ll breathe for me and you
Laugh for me and you, love for me and you
But still, I want to hold you tight,
my anchor in the fog
B.M. – Non italics parts
K.A – Italic Part
Collaboration of Braeden Michaels & Kindra M. Austin
Poemsandparagraphs.wordpress.com
I enjoyed collaborating with Kindra. It was easy. Her writing is real, raw, and honest to the core. Check out her blog.
February 8, 1992
I scratched my itch
I packed my bags
I didn’t laugh
I couldn’t say a word
They were already said
I held in the jungle
I swallowed my confusion
I didn’t see the condition
I couldn’t see the barriers
They were already built
I walked away from the illusion
I quietly closed the door
I saw a new found path
They were always there
I just ignored them
****
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New Book Released!
Deepest Scars
Your deepest scars
don’t define who you are
Your deepest scars
walk away from the sunset
Your deepest scars
don’t stare into the light
Your deepest scars
hide behind the plum tree
Your deepest scars
don’t scream at the rage
Your deepest scars
have burnt everlasting edges
Your deepest scars
don’t speak in front of millions
Your deepest scars
never fade in the chapter
Your deepest scars
don’t disappear in the journey
Your deepest scars
shape your colorful soul
Your deepest scars
make you gorgeous
Montmarte (Braeden’s Writing Challenge #2)
Browallia’s flourishing
in the blackish ridge
of the twinkling garden
Valiant orchids
blossom under a
bisque echoing sun
Spine tingling laughter
Inhaling sweet affection
Savoring a glass of Merlot
Exhilarating conversation
Meeting the love of my
life on Montmarte
****
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Uneducated Stalker
Injecting balladry
like it’s a antiseptic
Using your tiny
carry on thesaurus
to captivate the innocent
Swallowing cups of caffeine
to fill a concave
wretched black heart
Drunken saliva dripping
down your male oversized chin
Sunken and carved out
slurping the Devil’s wine
Casting judgement
from an empty phantom
A mindless hippocrate
Not realizing you are
an uneducated stalker
Overflowing Ink Boulevard
I saw vibrating rainbows draped over a slippery moon. I saw glitter on 20 x 20 frames. I could hear the grand piano playing in the deserted mountains. I saw a glimpse of red in the clouds of rage. I saw rivers of champagne. I witnessed sorrow hiding deep into the caves. I saw the sun bellow. I saw bouquets of silence seek Cupid’s harp. I fell into the well creeping behind the parade of jesters. I saw the edges of souls bleed tears of joy. I saw emptiness screech. I felt the warmth of diamond shaped hearts. I found a bottle of spilled ink and the words were never ending. I heard trumpets around the bend. I saw blank pages but words rattled and spoke like gospel. I discovered the path of humanity. I caressed the gentleness of others. I climbed into the vortex of raw emotions. I felt the infinite words in ink overflow within myself.
Eric Lindell – Josephine
Bittersweet Crossroads
Condescending aficionado
speaks from a barbaric abyss
Staking claims and forecasts
reeking of gin and vermouth
He paws
He claws
Relentless and crude
Staring at her fishnet stalkings
waiting for her lipstick stains
delicious Coca Cola bottle curves
Inhaling her wicked scent
He probes
He pushes
Distasteful and off putting
Sucking in helium and lithium
personality rising higher than balloons
Viewing others as outcasts
engaging as a insidious vulture
He commands
He yells
Unforgiving and selfish
Demanding perverse declarations
Instilling superficial values
She crawls away from the blood hound
gazing at the sign of bittersweet crossroads
She kicks
She cries
Embracing the freedom
Abandoned in the Dusk
Clarity settles around my ankles
Shackles tightly circling my wrists
A opaque warrant for the end
In arial font harshly awakens
crawling dismembered spiders
around my distant coffin
No eulogy or words will be spoken
Just an empty room of formalities
Guests sitting out of obligation
As time passes as I’m alive
Leave me in the closet with
the laughing faded skeleton
Playing chess with my demons
No tears for the desolate child within
Walk away from my numb ghost
Shaking hands with apathy
Disheartened by those who make
false claims and promises
Leave me abandoned in the dusk
****
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