[x]

I Don't Miss AdolescenceMy sister calls to ask me if I'll do her makeup;
Mami promised that she would, but she's tired
and screamed when Maria reminded her senior prom
is tonight. She says, "I have a hickey on my neck,
something she doesn't want to cover, and you've always
done a better job of highlighting the subtle graces
inherent to my bone structure, the angles we share."

I say, "That's okay, but I can't pick you up,"

so she arrives in a flourish of exasperations,
telling me all the family business, waving her nails
in my face and talking about the pain of her extensions.
She says, "Do you think we need yellow concealer?
I plan to take pictures, and the last

7 - The Pet PoetI remember when Mommy bought you
a black-haired pet for your sweet sixteenth.
Its bronze collar said its name was "Poet."
You fed it noise from the out-of-tune piano,
intense moments involving flesh and razors,
and the occasional walk by the lake.

At first, he knew only the wolf's howl,
purging blood and flames onto the carpets.
Everywhere was a smell of extravagance --
like that woman's cheap perfume on the train to work.
But you cried a little less,
smiled a bit more.
And that was when Daddy stopped
trying to send it back to the shelter.

Soon, you even started watching T.V.
(and enjoyed food, dressed nice, made friends.)
But T

unrequitedyou make my words
gather at the hollows
of my throat
until i choke on them.

my fingers ache to
hold you--
but my eyes ache to
cry.

you're nothing but heart break
wrapped in a bow
of something beautiful,
like the dust of grace from
fallen angels.

i drink a little faster and
cry a little harder
because the way whiskey and tears
mingle on my lips
tastes suspiciously of love.

The HourglassWatch the hands go round and round.
Ahhhh, how long have I been sitting here,
Listening to the grandfather clock?
Watching him ticking away?
Watching the polished wood yellow and rot?
And with every sound he makes
More maggots eat his wooden flesh.

Every grain that falls is an eternity!
In the firelight you can see the glass.
The dust that coats the cracking bulb,
Listening to the sand that trickles down.
Listening to the passing hours.
With every grain that filters through
Another man sleeps eternally.

The sundial stands defiant!
From my leather chair I see it!
It stands defiant in the plaza below me!
Standing in the moonlit night.
Standin

Onyx DreamsOnyx Dreams

Fluctuations of sound waves vibrate the floor,
While the lights of my room glow brilliantly,
But as time winds down and my energy starts its decline,
My vision gets blurry and listening becomes hearing,
And hearing becomes simple background noise,
While Palaceer Lazaro’s words become filmy intonations
Yet, still creating a motion picture full of abstract images,
In my mind full of words and phrases that do nothing but stay stagnant,
And Slumber begins to wrap her warm hands around my head,
As she sweetly begins to pull me into black depths of rest,
A state of unconsciousness that will take me on a journey,
Through the grey abyss we call the center of our nervous system,
And once I fall into the pit of nothingness, the pit of onyx, for those few hours,
I will transform into an atramentous being with aphotic wings,
Because “black is free……..”

All-Seeing EyeAll-Seeing Eye

We’re not moving, but He is……

Equestrian StormEquestrian Storm

I was walking through Canterlot,
as rain beat my plot.
I just didn’t feel right,
before it came into my sight.

The princess of the night,
alone and broken.
What a pitiful sight,
out of my slump, twas awoken.

“Princess, why are you here why are you crying?”

“Because nopony loves our night, I would be better off dying!”

“No Luna no, now that you shouldn’t say!”

“And why ever not, what reason hath you that I should stay?”

“Celestia for one, your sister whom you love.”

“Right sure, the sister from whom to the moon I was shoved.”

“Lu

DilemmaToday in class
You moved to sit beside me
And my heart missed
A beat

Your friends followed,
All sitting nearby
And I sat in silence
Afraid of being judged

The presentation started
And I tried not to look at you
But instead peeked
From the corners of my eyes

The presenters spoke
And I tried to focus
On the droning voice
But you invaded my thoughts

What we had talked about last night,
What I should say to you,
How I should instigate the conversation,
If we were to have one at all

I peek over
And you look miserable
Sick, I remember,
And feel an instant sympathy

Time passes
And fear of being judged
By those around me
Keeps me silent

You

All Systems are Shutting DownI shut down
Kicking everyone out
I sit alone inside myself, while other pieces of me close the gates around my heart
And lock the door to my brain
I refuse to let anyone in; I pretend I’m not home
“Please leave your message after the beep…”
Beep.
“Where are you?”
I don’t know.
“Are you okay?”
I don’t know.
“When are you gonna let me in?”
I don’t know.

You were cold insideYour lips tasted of
summer, of warm days and
cherry-flavoured ice,
relaxing by the
pool side and
smiling against the sun.

You should have been too hot,
too sticky, too humid.
You should have
overheated, should have
melted into your bones until
they turned to ashes, but
it never happened.

I suppose I should have
seen it coming, but
I was so moonstruck over
the way you said my name, so
in love with the idea
of love, that I
didn't notice the way
your eyes bled
winter.

VIIEncore un peu de cendre
Au coin de tes lèvres
Parolescentes

J'épluche tes souhaits
Tu laves le ciel
En vain

Et dans ce vent chaud
Des milliers de pétales
De peau

No wordsI don't like to talk.
I feel that words cannot truly express what I feel.
When I am filled with emotion, I can find no word that can express what I feel to the fullest.
There is no word beautiful enough to describe this joy, no word horrible enough to describe this hate, no word ugly enough to describe this miserable existence.

nothing specialthey tell you not to give up
because you have potential--
and to the ones who simply enjoy
you're probably fantastic
but to those who do
you're simply mediocre,
nothing to bat an
eyelash at.

you're not quite bad enough
to quit, but you're not
great enough to be
remembered.

a small dosage per daysorrow makes its way into my cup of tea every morning
and I add more spoonfuls of sugar into it,
hoping the sweetness will overpower the bitterness;

yet, this clever feeling still seeps through the sweet substance
and clings itself to the sugar's particles,
which in return races through my veins
and scatters in my blood,

making an entire day feel ruined
already.

Never open the window... Never open the window...

I see you're here.

Pay attention, don't fall. It's dark.

What? No, I don't want to light up the room. Yeah, nor open the window. It's useless.
And actually, the only light I need...
...is that one that is so distant for me.

She asked me why I was saying that.
But best of all, I knew that actually she didn't care
I saw too much faces ready to wipe away all my tears and all my fears
But best of all, I know that actually they didn't care.

Seems like destiny put me in this world to help others.
Oh, I'm tired, but I won't show you.
it has been four years, right?
Four years that I'm holding all of you on my shoul

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More from ~Kataena

Beck - Part One For Beck, the day was too bright. Too happy. Songbirds wheeled over head; the misty, snow-capped mountains glistened in the distance; the sun was shining and only a scant few pillow-like clouds drifted across the cerulean skies. This should be one of the days Mom took him and Arley on a picnic, out in the fresh, clean mountain air. Not the day of her funeral.
Arley was openly crying, but Beck had sworn he wouldn't, he'd promised. He wouldn't have somberly dressed adults patting his shoulder and cooing their support. Somberly dressed adults who still had their parents, maybe both, while he didn't have either of his, and while Arley d

FourFor four years, she's taken
apart a beautiful heart, taken
all of it, and now it's a
little hard black stone,
unbreakable, untouchable,
so hard it can't be broken. So
sharp it can't be touched.
Then she threw up some bricks,
circling her small, hard heart.
She put on paper wings and smiled,
until she locked herself out of
her brick walls, and out of the
small, hard heart she still had.
And now, whenever someone gets
too, too close, it tells her,
as gently as such a heart can,
"Don't let them get closer
to me than you are."

Dance with DeathI danced with Death
on a stage of wilted flowers and
the bones of my fallen enemies.
With grey skies and
a black-cloaked figure
extending a lifeless hand.
Such a tempting hand,
promising emptiness and
a free pass from the
world where everything
has a double meaning,
and nobody is what they seem.
Such a deathless solution,
taking life but granting
freedom from this land.
And there I stood with Death,
watching grey clouds
hand on a backdrop of silver,
and watched the colorless
blossoms unfold from a
colorless ground.
This world, the one without
painful color and
painless lies, empty
of the deceit.
Such a tempting, outstretched hand,
such promi

Call Me CursedCall me cursed or call me blessed,
you won't take my worst,
you aren't getting my best.
Don't come for my success.

You're gone for struggle, there for glory.

A Thousand WordsA picture speaks a thousand words,
or so it seems they say.
But a picture is so very bland,
before the roar of inspiration,
where one sits at a keyboard and bleeds,
and writes their pictures, alone,
not daring to stop, and on they go.
With inspiration fragile as an
eggshell, crashing on the shore
each morning in an unending chorus,
to start again tomorrow.

DiamondDiamond tears streaking
terracotta cheeks,
falling through the
hues of heaven
and into a blind,
cold, empty world.
She has starry eyes
and pottery skin,
paper wings and
sun-silvered lashes.
Some call her an angel
without realizing
that she isn't real.
She is only diamond,
just cold stone,
baked, hard earth,
the earth's blood,
and an idea.

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Pawn

by ~Kataena, Jan 13, 2013, 6:14:52 PM
Literature / Poetry / Narrative / Free Verse

Oh Pawn,
so useless against the great
might of your stronger brethren
and the master before you
somehow won our battle.

Oh Pawn,
so unwanted in lieu of
thing so very greater,
was somehow picked, but
only because of nothing better.

Oh Pawn,
left behind at the start,
uncontrolled and unneeded,
somehow saved
all of us.

Pawnby ~Kataena

Literature / Poetry / Narrative / Free Verse

So.. yeah.

~~love 0 0~~

~~joy 0 0~~

wow 1 1

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~TheUniSquirrel Jan 13, 2013 Hobbyist Artist

This fits Neville Longbottom to a T.

~Kataena Jan 14, 2013

Fits who?

I dunno who that is. Author?

~SilentArrow Jan 15, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM

Harry Potter character xD

~Kataena Jan 15, 2013

HUH??

~SilentArrow Jan 15, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Neville Longbottom is a Harry Potter character, mostly know for always being taken advantage of, screwing up all the time, but is actually a good leader and fighter when it comes down to it.

~Kataena Jan 15, 2013

Er, okeh.

I'll get the boks soon. I'm pretty sure my dad has nothing against fiction.

~SilentArrow Jan 15, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

GET DEH BOOOOOKS!!!

~Kataena Jan 15, 2013

I WILLLIOOO

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