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i wrote the other day about my parents
about their love and how it was an inferno
i wrote about their flame, their smoke, their wildfire of a marriage
about their burns and their scars and their ash
i wrote about how i feared i learned to love from them
how i feared that my heart is debris doused in gasoline
how i feared i was the one lighting a match
for a while now, i’ve been afraid that no one could handle my fire
i’ve been afraid that i’ve been so good at burning,
at consuming myself and others
and then you
you with eyes as calm as the Hudson
and hands just as steady
you with your soft tongue and your inflammable words
you licked your fingers, you smiled,
you, without any fear, put out the flame at the end of my match
you stopped my fire from consuming both of us
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 20 7
i’d like to think you went to heaven—
i’d like to think you went to heaven
with flower petals in your hair
and stars in your eyes
and my words tattooed on your skin
knowing you, you’d invite god to tea parties
and force the angels to dance to billie jean
knowing you, you’d walk on clouds wearing converse
heaven’s supposed to be bright and you,
you bringing both your red wrath and your warm beauty
could only make it brighter
i’d like to think you went to heaven
but we haven’t believed in it in such a while;
remember how we stopped believing
in tea parties with god and dancing with angels?
i hope that noise,
that noise of the clouds getting so fierce during a rain storm,
i still hope that’s your converse
walking, running, dancing on the clouds
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 15 2
dark sheets
she was tired
and always seemed to be
with her mind moving slower than her hands
her hands still trailing behind others
she was beautiful
even with bags under her eyes,
there was so much warmth to her face,
you’d want to make your bed within her cheekbones
she was smart
but managed to forget to turn off the stove
and burn her hands on curling irons
she was tired
because she refused to sleep
refused to succumb to the strength
of the dark sheets you ruined her under
she was not weak
and will say so, everyday,
until you can hear her
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 29 2
i remember noticing your breasts
how they were larger than mine
how i imagined my hands fitting over them
or if they could fit over them ;
i remember asking myself if this is what lust is
if the memory of your hair smelling like clean sheets
                               and cheap conditioner
if that was enough to convince me i was falling for you ;
i had never kissed a woman before you—
before you I was wrapped up in used condoms
                               and masculinities as fragile as my words
now i’m wrapped up in you and when and if and how i can touch you ;
i'm wrapped up in you
                               and how you've shown me how beautiful all these women are
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 20 12
to the therapist with no fucking clue
you didn’t know how much weight
was behind those words;
how gluttonous they had been
they wobbled over to me
with skin folding over stutters
folding over meaning
they sat on my lap
and you didn’t see the pounds
or the curves crushing me,
you didn't notice
the fat absorbing your words,
your sentences imprinting themselves
as stretch marks on my skin
you smiled a warm smile
as if that would burn away the calories hidden in your words,
i smiled back a cold smile,
i think it was as cold as my fingertips
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 32 8
chapped lips
a hodgepodge of stars and planets and burning meteors
and promises that escaped chapped lips
we were supernovas, exploding words, exploding skin
our glances across rooms would douse walls in chemicals
send cinderblock up in flames
i gave you candycane chapstick for christmas,
smooth lips didn’t put back together the promises
instead they decorated the black hole where i think all my love ended up
we danced on the rings of saturn
well you danced, poorly, and i drifted,
so slowly you didn’t notice at first
there's no oxygen in space,
my last breath wasted on licking my lips
or were they yours
there’s no oxygen in space
but so much room
but no room to breathe
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 20 8
i watched every part of you collapse
into broken bones and bruised skin and torn cartilage
your face sinking into itself, only letting me see sockets
and melting pores; i’ve never seen hair slide off skin like that
it got worse when you took away the mirror,
that’s when i felt the fractures, felt my
skin get so hot that it didn’t take too long
to see a puddle of myself at my
feet—or what was left of them
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 20 7
how many broken relationships does it take
it was easy to forget to love you.
so perhaps it’s my fault for our brokenness
for our extinguished spark;
it’s as if i forgot to plug us in or light our candle
                               but how many broken relationships
                               does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
                               none        because there was only screwing up not screwing in
                               none        because you screwed your lightbulb in someone else
i am trying to forget to love you again
but i’m still writing poems about what broke us,
summing us up in stanzas about lightbulbs;
do you
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 34 25
white rabbit
alice had her rabbit hole
and i suppose you could call me jealous
that her path to insanity seemed so straightforward
my white rabbit lead me to you
and then, you didn’t look so dark so dangerous;
it took me too long to realize i had
fallen for you fallen into you
and i kept falling, blonde hair, like alice’s
blinding my view, disguising the depth of my rabbit hole—
when alice landed she got to eat cake;
when i landed
my ribs collided with the ground
sure, my body shrunk,
but shoulders and hands and tears
folding into themselves,
broken bones, and bruises
don’t exactly scream wonderland
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 40 14
pilot light
do you see her
the girl with no fire in her eyes
no spark, not even a pilot light
she doesn’t smile
not often anyway
and she turns to you
both hands at her sides
and you might as well be a wall
or a window
or the mirror she doesn’t see herself in
you wonder why her eyes are so cold
and why she doesn’t smile
or at least not often anyway
and you want to hold her hands
and put a mirror in front of her face
a real mirror
and you want to show her
all the reasons she is beautiful
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 39 15
too dirty to be sweet
but you’ve been standing on my toes
for some time now
letting these small bones
made of blown sugar
crack beneath my honey-colored skin—
my bruised feet remind me of that other time
when your lips couldn’t suck up all that blood
do you remember your teeth sinking into the honey?
i wondered if you were surprised that the rest of my body had been made of sugar
while my blood reeked of iron and salt and maybe a little of your cologne
it wasn’t long before my skin started crystalizing
and maybe it was scarring too—
i was bruised for weeks, my skin looking too dirty to be sweet
you let me heal but only while standing on my toes
making sure the sugar has cracked,
making sure you always have plenty of honey
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 25 7
lincoln logs
you forget you were the one that broke me.
remember digging your nails into my skin,
ripping my flesh from the muscle?
your hands found my joints and lodged your fingers into them,
caressing the rounded edges of my bones.
i forget you were the one that glued me back together again;
my bones the lincoln logs of your masterpiece,
of an even stronger infrastructure—
you gifted me with a new skin (one i can feel comfortable in)
and you stitched it to my muscle
with a single needle and thread
but still i am afraid that
i am only glued together parts,
pieces still not fitting perfectly—
you might blow down my infrastructure, cut my strings, take back my skin.
we forget that this body is yours not mine was it ever mine
i think i had a body once,
and i forget how it became yours.
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 13 9
of candy floss and lemonade
i drink too much diet coke
and you noticed on the second date
that my hands shook as i wiped away
the condensation hugging my glass—
i noticed how you licked your lips
after every time you laughed
and before you began each one of your monologues
you said i tasted of sugar
and i nodded along
hoping i tasted of candy floss and lemonade,
hoping you couldn’t feel the bubbles on my tongue
you joked today that if you bit into me i would bleed caramel food coloring
i laughed at your optimism, and my blood cells laughed too
because they know the labyrinth of my body—
they know how the bubbles burst when they reach my veins,
how the sugar crystallizes before it reaches my stomach
i have blue lips
and i thought you wouldn’t know
because this diet coke is my lipstick;
i’ve been sporting this shade for a while now—
i have blue lips and you wouldn’t have known
if you hadn’t noticed my shaking hands
hadn’t licked the sugar off my lips
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 27 13
cheap beer
we were surviving on half inflated lungs:
the hollowness killing us—
what was independent of oxygen left open
to the poison of tears, of blood, of the taste of your mouth;
a taste that  mirrors the bitterness of hate that tastes of
boiling black coffee and cheap beer
making me believe that hate isn’t all that bad after all
your lips aren’t all that bad after all—
but my lungs feel the burning, the heat of the hate of the black coffee
of beer dancing in the confines of a plastic cup, i know you feel it too
that my lips—my hate—burn like autumn bonfires, like ends of cigarettes
and i apologize for our half inflated lungs
for the poison, for the tears, the blood
for all this hate lacing mouths.
my lips are cracked, i’ve been breathing so heavily
so maybe you won’t want to kiss me anymore anyway
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 37 17
manhattan light
this city doesn’t need stars, you say
we are guided by these skyscrapers
these hungry office buildings
these lonely crowded apartments—
there are wires on rooftops
and under concrete
that force the cosmos to work for us,
to illuminate our skylines.
we don’t need the stars, the moon
and as your hand grabs the nearest lamppost
i see manhattan light up beneath your eyelashes
and for the first time
i see you perfectly
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 30 9
pillows of bullshit
and there were cities built
on top of your tongue,
skyscrapers sliding around the lies, falling down
the hills of words you never meant to say
backyards grow upon your secrets;
broken sentences wrap themselves around tree roots
and daisy flowers, there are seedlings growing
amongst the whispers
there are cities on your tongue
with rows of houses and there are families there,
children sleeping on pillows of bullshit
parents working nine to five jobs,
getting paid in paper that dissolves in your mouth—
where are my manners?
let’s let our tongues collide,
i want your words to be shaken by earthquakes,
your families drowned by hurricanes;
let’s save those people
let’s let those cities burn
let those words burn
let’s let your lies crumble beneath collapsing debris—
there were cities built
on top of your tongue—
where are they now?
:iconpages-of-poems:pages-of-poems 38 12

Random Favourites

Sorry, I'm not a good poet
Tell the birds
I have no wings
To fly around the sky
But I have dreams
To fantasize my world
Tell the sun
I have no light
To shine the world
But I make poetry
To brighten their mind
Tell my family
I am not what they're expected
Cause I am what I am
But I have love
To create the happiness for them
Don't tell about me to my God
Let me confess my sins to Him
I have to repent
Before I sleep forever in darkness.
:iconamirunthenoob1:amirunthenoob1 26 4
on deadly calm and heavy quiet
you say it like an afterthought, like it's
something you forgot, and it trails
behind your heels
yet it isn't sympathy - you say it
sweetly but it doesn't
comfort me the way
i need you to.
in my chest, there is a thunderstorm.
you can't see the lightning, but i tell you
it's loud, i say "there's a hurricane
in there" and you just
blink in response, so i
write again, i spill up.
i take the clipping from the
magazine you ripped for me
and rub the newsprint between
my fingerpads like a willow:
because what this is is a
name drop, because what this is
is a butterfly, because
what we are is my-throat-hurts and
i'm-sitting and you-are-watering-
the-ipomoeas and "its-really-beginning
because i'm scared, and the only thing
that can comfort me now is
words i call my own.
:iconpeaseblossoms:peaseblossoms 27 12
this poem is worth $3.27
who says you don't get paid for poetry?
i'm getting paid eleven fifty four
to sit in the corner of a building,
red detroit diesel rusting,
meters fussing.
automotive, loco-motion and motives,
h building buzzing,
my brain lame and lusting
for romance; melancholic motor
i'm running in place,
pumping my lungs
leaning towards failure,
tripping on cables and wires.
cables and fables
(because they don't exist)
wired and exhausted,
my bloodshot eyes
are flossed with lights,
that my eyelids
can't protect me from.
i don't smile enough
and i won't cry a lot
because my sadness
is no longer an event.
:iconchromeantennae:chromeantennae 61 40
Tangled by Typewronger Tangled :icontypewronger:Typewronger 10 0
September Feature and October Prompt
Hello! :iconlualady: for OurDreamsWillCome here!
Our monthly feature includes:
the best of the month consisting of pieces that have been copied to the featured folder
the currently featured deviant
the best of the monthly prompt
news and articles from our members
Thank you Amarantheans, our founder for helping me with the litterature selections.
Please note that the selection is highly subjective, though I try my best to come up with something great!
Now, let's begin!!!

The best of september

:iconlualady:LualaDy 11 59
Art Highlight #1
September 26th 2016
× original art ×

× fanart ×

× photography ×

× literature ×

:iconpaperraiin:paperraiin 4 7
MUSIC OF MY SOUL ~ even out of tune by DAGAIZM MUSIC OF MY SOUL ~ even out of tune :icondagaizm:DAGAIZM 11 16
candy-coated lungs
The sugary scent here is too thick in my throat and I'm gagging,
choking on the taste of who we used to be and every cliché we thought would last forever.
Strawberry caramel milkshakes and laughter under the apple tree,
And I'd sit in the branches and write you poetry
in that old notebook filled with all my dreams.
But my father chopped down that tree last winter and we set the past on fire,
that notebook was the kindling and I wish I could burn my memories of you
in the same way but I can't.
I can barely breathe when I buy my sister ice cream now;
Last time she asked me why I only eat vanilla pecan,
Why I don't get milkshakes anymore,
so I just told her people change.
I inhale sugar and exhale us;
you're the candy cigarette that gave me cancer.
:iconinthespacebetween:inthespacebetween 32 16
September collaborative challenge
Hello everyone, :iconlualady: here for CollaborativeMinds.
Since our annual contest has succesfully ended and so did the summer holidays, it's time to go back to THE CHALLENGE!!!
I know, we first announced it was a bi-weekly challenge but let's be honest, that's not enough, considering so many other awesome groups here on DA hold very interesting challenges. It's really tough when you want to take part in so many other events. Plus it would leave more time for even more awesome submissions from you guys. Isn't that great?
What is the challenge about?
Each month we will choose a piece from the Litterature seeking collaboration and the Art seeking collaboration folders and you will have to create its counterpart: an illustration for the litterature piece o
:iconlualady:LualaDy 6 22
Favs of note 37

Wind Chimes by Undomiel321Hobos Housed In Urban Decay by EmaciatedandEpitaphs
Show one another some love :heart:
:iconshedares:SheDares 11 26
Panorama of Lindos by Zawij Panorama of Lindos :iconzawij:Zawij 545 70
July Literature DDs Roundup
:iconthemaideninblack: Features by TheMaidenInBlack
:iconbrennenxr: Features by brennenxr
    In Soviet Russia... by Osterkaktus Hunger by GDeyke Nimue by joe-wright #6 - disperse, quietly. by azuline-furcula Teeth by Tealya Wildwomen by ejeans7 Midnight Snack by mimi-lolacute The Mirror Lied by LunaNitor undefined by crystallized-skies Days (Short Story) by LeaderPinhead FFM 06 - Progress in Action by distortified Prom by fyoot orlando by hopeful-encumbrance 
:icondoughboycafe: Features by doughboycafe
Pie Guy by The-Infamous-PeeGee The Big Deal by DamonWakes FFM 08: Charge of the Panzer Legions by Toravich12 I am Become Obsolete by creativelycliche 
:iconthemaideninblack:TheMaidenInBlack 9 6
Fall's Path by Leonid Afremov by Leonidafremov Fall's Path by Leonid Afremov :iconleonidafremov:Leonidafremov 263 11
burnt-caramel pale-coffee sepia girl with midnight-black eyes and charcoal hair
all curled into a messy bun with strands dangling over like sleeping hurricanes
and black clothes that hang off a body that curves corners and has barely any sharp edges;
parabolas and hyperbolas constitute this girl with smeared eyeliner and
lips the darkest shade of maroon. pretty girl with tired angry eyes and a nice smile
and an easy laugh and tears that come on demand. she is poseidon when she is sobbing
because oceans run down her face, her heart is hades and her ribcage, the underworld.
there is thunder in her eyebrows and lightning in her eyes and tornadoes in her thighs
she falls in love with strangers like aphrodite’s favourite game, boys and girls
stand aligned and she makes them into poetry even when she does not love them
because her world is a sky and she likes constellating her daydreams to organise them.
she is awkward and hyperactive and she tastes like stardust as it sediments
yet sh
:icona-girl-named-divine:a-girl-named-divine 37 50
thursdays are my favourite days because that’s how i grew up
with the taste of weekdays in my mouth and april braided in my hair
i had eyes the colour of june, and november laughter
i want you to love me like december, i want you
you see, i demand too much from the people who make my heart beat
i am high-maintenance and no-one wants a clock that can barely keep time
i am a season girl and you know me best.
you know me well enough to define me but god knows i could never define you
we all start out as poets. we all start out as words flitting from fingertips
like butterflies on this screen. our thighs are warm and these poetry-storehouse laptops
feel like a small piece of home perched on a humble tabletop, and the pieces of paper
and ink on our fingers that betrays how nauseous the word-vomit makes us sometimes
tell the world a story. we are alive because we write and we write because we are dying.
wednesdays are nightmares because they remind me that
pain hurts and that’s w
:icona-girl-named-divine:a-girl-named-divine 54 37




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Poetry/Edit Commissions
Poetry commissions are open! Price is very much negotiable. 

Also happy to work as an editor for pieces! I'd happily do a couple of poems for this price or a short story/excerpt (yes, I write prose too, I just keep it locked away.) Feel free to send me a note if you have any questions!



pages-of-poems's Profile Picture

Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States


Add a Comment:
Poetrymann Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2017  Professional Writer
catloversjt Featured By Owner Apr 11, 2017   Writer
i'm in love with your poetry, it's so powerful and everything I read just takes my breath away :heart:
pages-of-poems Featured By Owner May 23, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you so much! That really is so kind of you to say; you made my heart feel so so warm :hug:
catloversjt Featured By Owner Jun 4, 2017   Writer
aww of course!! :heart:
DamhsaGaoithe Featured By Owner Dec 5, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Hello! :iconballoonplz:

You've been featured in :iconthesharingproject:'s Poetry Feature No. 1! Keep up the lovely work!

May the road rise to meet you... :dalove:
pages-of-poems Featured By Owner Dec 21, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you so much for the feature!
DamhsaGaoithe Featured By Owner Dec 26, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
No problem!
Monocephalized Featured By Owner Nov 3, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Appreciate the favourite.
comatose-comet Featured By Owner Oct 21, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
thanks for the fave :rose:
pages-of-poems Featured By Owner Oct 23, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Of course, lovely! It was well deserved!
Add a Comment: