[x]

Does that make me Different?I wear make up. Does that make me fake?
I cry. Does that make me emo?
I have male friends. Does that make me slutty?
I smile a lot. Does that make me weird?
I laugh loud. Does that make me preppy?
I have anxiety. Does that make me a freak?
I have Bipolar Disorder. Does that make me abnormal?
I respect people. I change for me, and only me. I have a past, but I know I have a future.
Does that make me different?
Maybe.
But at least it makes me
Me.

FrostbiteNumbness
I can’t feel my toes and at first I think
It’s just my toes.
I can cover them up.
I can warm them.

It spreads, like fire,
Like ice.
I glance away for a second, it seems, and my feet are cold
Pat –pat
That’s funny, I didn’t feel that
Maybe I’ll cover them up too
I’ll warm them up.

I’ll take a nap
Maybe a short rest will make it all better, warm them
Up…
What’s that? How long has it been?
My legs… are you still mine..
Why has my breath left me, short?
Has everything but deserted me?

What about you, are you still here?
Are you still with me?
Hello?
And before I can say goodbye, I think my thoughts are leaving me too –

You'll Never Understand...You'll never understand...
But I'm glad you don't.
Because that would mean
You'd have to go through my pain.
And I'd never wish that
For you.

Dear fucked society,Dear fucked up society,
Why do you take our rights?
Our human rights?
To who we love?
To who we are.. To our image?
Tell me.

You force images down our throat;
Images of airbrushed, false looking
people. You want people to look
more skinny and cause anorexia,
More along the hidden line that
you dig under the ground like
a dead forgotten body yet always there

You show us that its not right to be gay,
lesbian, bi-sexual or transgendered..
And then wonder why the suicide rate is
so fucking high. You cause the nightmares
and terrors of our family not accepting us
our

Telling Childhood Goodnight.They were the fearless whispers through the starless night.
They were the pounding feet through the cobbled streets,
Screaming out for everything.
They were the fleeting memories of a time long gone by,
Blown away in the wind to a far away sky,
Where the air is cold and the stars never shine.

Memories leave their traces behind,
The scars on my legs from a day long gone by.
I was climbing a rock,
That would forever leave me with a flaw.

They were the youthful cries, screaming out.
They were the glowing eyes, on a fearless march,
Racing down the cobbled streets, blazing out for all to see.
The beacon of light that is now dying out,
I never wanted it to go away.
Everything is changing at a speed I can’t match,
I am drifting further every day.

It makes me want to cry that the best and worst days of my life,
Are being pushed away with every day that passes by.
I want to hold on
But each day I lose more ground.
Soon they will be gone without even a sound.

Th

Sleeping Beautyshe’s in love with a character who
never existed but in the labyrinth of her head:
a patchwork composition of beautiful, lengthy words
she’d heard in her catatonic state; coma living
day in and day out, reliant on the salvation
of a man made of foreign wishing
and imperfection and necessity – an ignorance
of the less than ideal perception of self she’d
come to fear, absention stained romantic to the point
where daydreams were a standard for survival

(real living is for the purposeful of heart,
he loves her in her sleep)

Silent and GoneAlong the blue streams of those who were simplistically glassed, I drag my wooden, empty coffin; it contains only my past.

For the many decades I've lengthened have expanded pain's time; across shallow mountains and beatings I prepare my final climb.

Through harsh mists and soft grasses the journey trembles on; days on end without my voices; alas, I realize they are gone.

Near all abandonment's shelter I rest without ease; my halved demon appears before me; she speaks hellishly in the breeze.

Forgiveness and hallucination she crisply burns in my eyes; I must awaken and continue, 'tis my time to remain wise.

To a judging stream near the g

I don't fight fair...Cut, bruised, scraped, forgotten. These things I have all been at least once in my life. But it
hasn't made me stronger, just more determined in my fight to live another day.
I know the ways of my attackers, studied their movements, learned their tricks and gleamed
their true motives. I have seen their weaknesses, their faults, theirs flaws and I have kept
them close to me, ready for use when the next time we meet.
They are cautious of me, they have weary from my adaptive ways, knowing that I can fall only
so many times. They are scared for I have the key to their defeat; not by sane ways, but by
the ways they fear to tread.
One look, one stare, one gesture and they will run in fear for the truth is upon them: "I won't
live restrained anymore."
"I have seen your errors an played on them like strings on a violin. Moved you to place were I
make the rules. Put you on display for all to see what you have done, and what will be done."

You ha

lifelinesI fear the sound of sparrows
and the density of leaves
against dew-muffled blades
of grass,

and I'm drowning
in the sky.

My skin has learned how
to peel itself off
without causing a commotion
in my marrows or
even show the slightest hint
of pain,
and my heart has learned how
to hush the stars in their wake
and keep it all a secret.

There's a sea in my mouth
and I can't swim.

There are lifelines
cast like these and it will
all end with the same tragedy.

the carbon footprint of an arsonistyour crystal promise
rings drip off your glacial
fingers into global

nothings. the geodesic
dome you used to live in
is a hell you keep

clean-shaven and concentric,
spiraling away from you,
wrapping your unborn

children up in paper goblets.
for minimum wage, any geryon
would cling to the terza rima

inkblots on your
collarbones, his spongy molars
diving into your right

angles, his familiar laughs
killing your skin with
shivering cuddles and you

shudder, being self-diagnosed
at center of the universe,
your hair a nest of radio

waves, the one cosmic
principle drumming on the ancient
heart of mystery.

but amateur porn always
made you cry

Happily AloneHonesty,
She does not have,
Personalities,
She has many of them.

A million shields,
a million personalities,
She's always changing,
to fit every person around her.

If one were to ask why,
she would answer with,
I will never reveal my weaknesses,
because she's evil.

She hates everyone,
stupider than her is barely tolerable,
smarter than her is too scary,
She hates it all.

She leaves the world behind,
To one she has dreamt of,
No color,
nobody else.

Then,
she will smile,
why,
because she is truly happy alone.

She is not evil,
She does not hate you,
She is not dishonest,
She simply wants to be alone.

The WaitingBones hang from trees
Hollow windchimes rattling
In the sullen breeze

Dark clouds make noonday dusk
Rusted buttons on threadbare coats
Sorrow drips like rain

(From the fingertips of this dead-rose day)

Hoofprints kill the grass
Where the dark horse steps
The rider unsmiling

The tired and ill amble about
Cattle awaiting the shoulder tap
To sleep, but not to dream

(To become whatever the second birth dictates)

of seafoam thronesFrom Atlas’ hands she wept to me,
atop Africas and South Atlantics;

this is one situation unaffected by
ember eyes and windy lashes
(it has no anatomy).

You are sparrows stranded
in tiny crevices and cliffside love,
though you rebuke flight
in the fear of chipping feathers.

So what do you do?

You reach for my soul,
coveting flight with shaking
dainty arms…

and perhaps I’ll let you:
With flytrap lips and
glass shaped hips…
you are unfit for anything but
sight.

(But beauty isn’t everything)

A Charmed LifeDoll-faced men and sinkholes, ancient tombstones
Leaves piled ankle-deep, falling down
Old wells, old graves, old friends lost
Pirate adventures in Neverland
Don't go into that barn

Ponchoboy and Rangergirl rise from the ashes
From the cold river, from afar
Remember before they were born, how they
Held hands and jumped into the world
Don't go into that school

Ladybugs, pennies, notes from the dead sun eclipse
Scrape the inside of your skull for clues
All the old dreams are still there, petrified
You are a rock of ages gibbering
Don't go into that factory

Ashes on the SandWe put you in
a crystal box
small enough for me
to hold in my
hands
(and that thought gives me
chill bumps)
The tide was high
where we took you
and I remember thinking
how pointless it was
(you were just going to wash
up on the shore)
Everyone was quiet
and some people cried
and as you were tossed
out to sea like so
many grains of sand
I thought how much
I missed you
(Now I think how much
I hate you
for leaving)

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More from *chiara-scicluna

From your daughterSummer makes you think of sunshine and heat, of cool oceans and blue skies. You think of joy and the joy of sharing joy. Yet some emotions are not so bright, and certainly not seasonal.

What I have is what people call baggage. An apt term, in my opinion. Baggage, because you cannot just leave it behind, it is who you are. Baggage because it weighs down on you, you hate carrying it around, and more often than not people can see what dragging around in your eyes.

I have thought and thought about this so often that my head aches and sometimes so does my heart. I try to understand the past, the past when I didn't exist but other people did, the

A smile and a thousand tearsWho I am has changed so much from who I was - terrified but determined, with nothing much to lose, clenching teeth and fists, and fighting. Fighting until I had no more tears to shed, silently under covers in a darkened room, tears nobody saw, nobody heard. Because from me, you'd only get silence - a special brand of silence, the kind that'd make you want to light a torch and look into my thoughts.

When I grew older and I started giving up; no hope, no satisfaction, only disappointments and losses. Loneliness ate me up like the demons I wrote about in my essays, the kind that nobody could see but I battled with every day. My demons of reject

Dream distanceOur love was a song

People, crowds, a throng

Let me search for who you are
drowning in your eyes from afar

Honey I'm, so left behind
it's not, like I haven't
tried

Trails of smoke, in the air
Too much emotion, left to spare

Whisper those words to me
I can't bear to speak.

Elusion of a dreamI have seen you from my film of silence
Broken up believer, too proud to beg

You want to pick up your love and run away -
too many disappointments, in too little time.

Blue eyes speak of shredded hopes
dreams unravelled from the seams
cold ash blown away.

I know that the butterflies have long perished
but a heart still beats

Joy, it now eludes us
but this is not the time or place.

Someday, it will be the time and place.

Don't wanna be youYou, with your fake smiles and trials
with your humourless laughs
fingers slipping their grip
and hollow friendship

with your empty, colourless soul
all you've got is a hole
It's a shame I'm the one doing the crying
I'm the one doing all the trying

You'd think that the blankness within
Would somehow by now have crept in
and destroyed your sugar coating

dissolved it until only pale sweet water remains
While I stand at the side with a history of pain
my heart with a heavy, sore and sorry stain

simply because I was fooled by the reflections of the rain
I believed that you knew what the world was and was not
Turned out I was blind

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

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I do not understand...

by *chiara-scicluna, Jul 20, 2012, 8:36:47 AM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

There are times

I could be alone, or even with companionship

when I am stricken with inexplicable feelings

of joy intermingled with strings of sadness

and tears befall my eyes

sobs emanate from the depth of who I am

nothing can console me - I do not understand what touches me so deeply

what moves my soul to such helplessness.

I wonder at times if I am mad

for only the insane would break into tears

over no apparent pain.

The simple stars, dotting the night sky

are so beautiful, I cannot bear it

I do not comprehend beauty

love, or even life

and something within me

cries harder than my tears

begging to understand.

I do not understand...by *chiara-scicluna

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Something I feel at times.

~007Balel Jul 20, 2012 Student Writer

You are not alone, we are only human and it's safe to say that you are not alone. Everyone comes across a time in their life when they feel like... well, less than nothing (if that's possible to believe).
And you managed to portray that so clearly in this very emotional poem.
Well done

*chiara-scicluna Jul 21, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thanks for your comment!

~007Balel Jul 21, 2012 Student Writer

You're welcome

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I do not understand...

I do not understand...by *chiara-scicluna

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