let's start a riot.Maybe it's all about finding your heart
in a broken maze
full of thorns as you walk on fire
to get to a light that will guide you home.

I admit that I've always been the type
to believe your heart will never stay attached
because sometimes you can lose yourself
whenever you let go.
(Sometimes it feels like the whole world is insecure,
but insecurity has always been the newest trend.)

The Last Phone Callring....
ring...
ring...
ring...
ring...
click.
silence
silence
silence
click.

I didn't think you were going to pick up.
I mean, I just wanted to hear your voice.
I was scared.
I called you to make-up.
I didn't know what else to do.
So I called.
I wanted to know...
how you were doing.
What's your latest project?
How's your mom?
How about dad?
I freaked out, not saying a thing.
I hung up before you could say a word.
I'm a mess.
I called to make-up.
I called to hear your voice.
I called because I'm worthless.
I'm not worth your time.
I'm just a mess.
I'm alone.
I'm not... me.
I called.
I hung up.
Before exchangi

Frozen in the immortal crystals of nothingYou sang to me with your eyes, and with a smile
you opened up my heart
Never in my frantic dreams could I recall a vision
as beautiful as you.

We had grown to where we didn't cry at all
(we felt numb)
but comforted ourselves in our own minds

I tried to block it out, but it was no use
(I was what I was)
yet I survived in the knowledge that I couldn't save
us both

(who was I to decide who
was to live and die?
forbidden love, willingly sent)

Lustily we moaned each others names
torturing our hearts with silly games

Swimming within the pools of his eyes revealing
where his passion lied

In the soft moonlight we met; arms reaching,

Untitled"Painters...they're visual artists. People see the painting and think nothing more. But writers... they capture the imagination of the reader and trap them in worlds they could never have thought up on their own. Writers pull the reader in and seal them inside the pages, forever wandering worlds. We are the deadliest miracles." -Me

My comments on this subject: Oh, my, I love art. All types, not just writing. I don't have anything against painters, neither do I not believe that they can't capture the imagination of others. However, it seems to me that these days, the number of art appreciators that aren't artists themselves is dwindling. Thus

Parachute GirlParachute girl
stop jumping off bridges.
stop clinging to windows
climbing towers
Stop viewing the world
in fast free falling.
Parachute girl
stop jumping off skyscrapers
the side-walk swept people,
don't want to see
Parachute girl
eyes wide with sky
stretching arms, and legs, hands, fingers wide
striving to reach, unreachable heights
Parachute girl,
I am a bird
yet, wings don't make me free.

the soccer game.the thing is, i need
the deer to mean something.

-

i go to the soccer game and smile
and nod while something furious
inside of me is screaming.
a deer appears while the sun
is setting and it's like a scene
from a movie: green grass and gold rays
that spread out, tingeing our feet
with one last bit of wednesday.
everyone watches the deer and makes
noises of appreciation and i look
around and i think to myself
"okay, this is it, i am happy."

-

the deer is watching me and i try
to decide if it's a metaphor.
i want the deer to be death, see,
to represent fucking or blacking
out or apathy or loneliness.

someone does something

005Ouch. That one actually hurt.

But maybe there's a reason
that you wore stilettos
when you stepped on my heart.

My Mind

My mind is a scary place.

I lay in bed at night,
my eyes wide open.
I stare into the darkness,
feeling it wrap around me each night.

My body tells me to sleep,
but my mind tells me different.
My mind usually wins the war
and I begin to be consumed within it.

My sadness:
An emotion I know very well,
this chronic feeling never seems to leave.

The nightmares of my Dad's death,
The bullies hurtful words,
The questioning if my mom ever loved me.
The tears streaming down my already puffy eyes.

Sadness, will you ever leave?

My anger:
An emotion I am unfamiliar with,
and I cannot control too well.

The bullies laughing at my face,

Candy Canes: A VillanelleI think nothing I know is real or well:
These flowers are too sweet, the sky too bright.
The world turned upside down and so I fell.

I wish I knew why only I hear bells,
They echo in my head and through my height.
I think nothing I know is real or well.

I wish I knew how to escape this hell,
How it envelops me, although I fight.
The world turned upside down and so I fell.

I wish that I could just learn how to quell
This aching evilness that holds me tight.
I think nothing I know is real or well.

These open eyes, they taught me how to tell
And learn to try embracing my dark plight.
I think nothing I know is real or well,
The wor

helloagaingoodbyeThe keys are sticky, I haven't

written in ages…

[save for the love notes in foreign tongues, I

wished you were rolling on my tongue…]

I don't know what I'll say to you today, when your

eyes [ilovedsomuch] just stare…

I dare you to say something.

I dare you.

I want to choke myself with all the necklaces they gave me, I never deserved

this.

Never deserved you, but

[we like to pretend I did].

I tried to lock you up,

tie you up in that box where I keep

every other dissapointed memory,

somewhat happy memory,

bittersweet memory.

I decorated it with pretty bows and your smile and every time you said you loved me.

I t

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interstate 81.there's a metal star that is wasting away on a hill overlooking interstate 81. it blends in with the surrounding area; you can't really even see it unless you know it's there.
and no one does.
i like to think that it is a signboard from god, and i make tiny little prayers on it. my religion is in curling wires and burned out light bulbs, and my lord is the same colour as the sky and the treetops. honestly, i believe that rusting metal has as much a chance as anything for inspiring faith.

there's a deer lying broken on the side of the road. it's sprawled in a shallow ditch with its four legs splayed awkwardly, hooves plowing tiny furrows in

being in love.it's like when you were five, when your pet rabbit died
and you learned that nothing good lasts.

it's like the time you dropped him off at his house to watch tv
before you drove yourself to the emergency room, sobbing.

it's like the first time you saw your kindergarten teacher cry.

it's like ring around the rosie, a pocket full of posies, ashes. ashes.

it's like when he went too far, and he said, "is this okay?"
and you said, "no," but it didn't matter.

it's like when he said, "but i want you."

it's like the number seven, or rubies.

it's like when you almost drowned in the pool in north carolina
and when you looked up through the

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punctuationby ~estallidos

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as some of you already saw on my facebook page, i'm going to be using instagram to post little poems and stories.

my account is @understandably or search for kelsey rakes. if you don't have instagram, the poems should eventually make their way to kelseyrakes.com. i would post them here but i don't want to be annoying or redundant.

so there is that. how are you guys doing? tell me about your lives.

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~Mystic-Scream Apr 10, 2012 Photographer

What I love the most about this poem is that the people who are virgins and commented don't understand. I like that the best.
I also agree with the whole poem.
Your brain is such a marvel, I love the way it functions.

~estallidos Apr 12, 2012 Professional Writer

thank you so much

~cobaltblue-n Mar 6, 2012

I randomly found this poem and this one took my interest.

I am not an English native, so may I ask you what are the meaning and context you use on "free verse poetry"?

~estallidos Mar 7, 2012 Professional Writer

poetry doesn't have rhyme or meter, but still has poetic form. (attention to line length, imagery, etc.)

~cobaltblue-n Apr 13, 2012

Oh! I see now. Thanks. It was really beautiful

*BerlinSnyder Feb 20, 2012 Student Digital Artist

_{I'm not one for poetry...but yours is extraordinary. This one is by far my favorite.}

~estallidos Feb 21, 2012 Professional Writer

wow. thank you so much! i'm glad i could sway you a bit.

~dasha242 Feb 20, 2012

wow. this is amazing!

~MendedRose23 Feb 20, 2012 Hobbyist Photographer

I just randomly clicked on this, honestly don't know how I found it, BUT. I love it, and I am slightly confused by all the comments saying they don't understand? I am also a virgin, and this makes perfect sense. Maybe the age of the person also has something to do with it? Hmm, who knows?

Anyways, Great poem.

~estallidos Feb 20, 2012 Professional Writer

haha, i thought it was pretty clear too, but i wrote the poem and am therefore a little biased. i'm glad that you were able to come away from it with a meaningful message!

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