MariamAlgretly

tonight, i will write for you something beautiful from the corners in which you have flung me. this lion-heart of mine is hungry again, devouring light-lidded men who once dreamed of galaxies -- this is nucleosynthesis: we are stars, we are dust, and i am humbled, proud. the sea does not sigh, tonight. the moon hides her face whilst motherless nimbostratus beg the wind to marry them, weeping when he leaves -- he leaves, spurning trees who ache to hold him. somewhere it is snowing: thick, heavy, soft. it is in my lungs, cooling my throat as it threatens to tear itself raw. tonight, my hands are pressed to my sternum as i hold my o

Once a Knight wished for a princess, Yet princesses wish for a prince, The Knight was not royal or kingly, The girls looked upon him and winced. His heart was as true as his sharpened steel sword, Yet all of his wishes went woeful unheard, 'Til he hung up his armor and rusted his blade, And his hopes and his dreams they faded away. Once a Knight refused to settle, And so he ended alone, With no hope in his eyes and no spring in his step, And no princess to love as his own. To this day the good Knight, he wanders the earth, From village to village, from hearth to cold hearth, Wishing and wishing for a princess to see, That the K

Going off medication is like riding a bike. The doctor holds tight to my handlebars and lowers my dosage. The training wheels are off, and oh hey, look at me go! It's like flying but not, and I'm doing so well but then there's a horrible accident and I'm somehow upside down at the bottom of the sea with both wheels still spinning. "Help," I say, and my doctor pats my head, puts a band-aid on my knee, and writes a note on my chart. I've balanced by myself for months at a time, but I always end up hitting a fucking tree or falling off a cliff or something equally catastrophic because I am a catastrophic person. Except that is an exaggeration

It was raining when we landed. A shock to our sun-drenched systems, stumbling with snatched- away sleep. Another bus, another train whirring upon endless tracks. We run, we flee through foreign streets – disdainful eyes stare on, watching fugitive outsiders - desperate for a taste of home.

Angels watching Your eyelids fluttering Delicate angel's wings As the night wind sings. The hint of autumn's cologne Combing through your hair A sleeping guardian that won't stir Hidden in a devil's lair. Tones of golden twilight Pulling you further into night Drawing you away from dawn With a lonely siren's song. Rhythmic waves Longing your fears away You'll see them soon enough The next day. My dearest, hold me near Fret not Show no tear Sleep, dawn is not yet here. Leaves eclipsing right from wrong This lulling fall song Sleep, my darling, Sleep. The angels dare not intervene This bronzed mid-autumn's dream With w

You've saved so many lives, You've almost died taking a bullet for a friend, You've taken stabs for a friend, You're a hero. These are the things people say to, Once they hear a bit of my story. True, I did take a bullet for a friend. True, I did take stabs for a friend. True, I save people from taking their own lives. True, I have helped drug addicts overcome their addiction. But truth be told, I ain't nobody's hero You know what you get for being a "hero"? Nothin You get a pat on the back, A shake of the hand. People have no idea what you go through when you've done things like this. The guilt you feel of the people you

Whispers, Hushed voices, Echoing beckons, Haunting cries. I hear them repetitiously, In the chasing hours of night, Trying to find sleep. My pillow offers a sweet cradle for my restless head, My bed swallowing me in its sinking sweetness of comfort. Yet why am I so restless? My mind races, I cannot grab hold of one thought, There is no sense to be had, Just a madness swarming inside. My heart is pounding, Forcing the blood of the past through my veins, Recreating the feelings of old, And the stories that have already been told. One story still remains a favorite for the taunting beats, The story of my mother's death. Every

Breathing in the polluted air of New York city. I sit quietly, trying not to scream. This loud city is too much. too loud. Someone passes me. I reconize the soft scrape in their step. Concentrating hard I realize who it is. I smile. I know your standing infront of me. We walk. Smiling, talking. Suddenly. I freeze. A small, artifictial smile crosses my face. I dont know how stupid I look. You pull my hand to your face. I touch. Your smiling. Now I am too. For real this time. I wish I could see your amazing face. I still remember what you look like. Light blond hair, much like mine. Your nose, slightly small. Your big smile,