ValenceFlame98

    Have you ever heard of a band called Sleeping with Sirens?     No? Okay, take some time to look them up, but keep an open mind.     Yes? Great, then you'll have an idea of what I'm talking about.     They're your favorite band? Then please be open about this and try not to string me up in front of a large crowd when you are done reading this.     I guess it would be important for me to begin with a disclaimer, as Kevin Smith says that they are meant to save your ass. In this article, I will probably mention teenage girls and their affinity for this band. That being said, these are not meant to be taken as insults. I am simply stating

"Poetry is man's rebellion against being what he is."- James Branch Cabell I agree with this quote because I see poetry as taking our emotions and putting them on a canvas that we either keep to ourselves or we let be seen by the eyes of others. What James Branch Cabell meant when he said "what man really is" is that we are all insignificant little drones in the game that is the Universe. We eat, sleep, expel wastes, and eventually die. We are not as immortal as we think we are; in the scope of the entire universe, we (as individuals) don't really matter. We were put on this earth as part of some screwed up experiment. Poetry is like an expl

Tirelessly, I pick away At my chapped lips, Cautiously tearing the hard skin From my mouth. The blood on my fingertips looks curious; A drop here, A smear there, Staining my fingers rusty red. I slyly lick it off of my hands Like a wounded wolf, Grinning at the metalic taste. Any leftovers I smear on my paper Just to see how the stain stands out On the backround of innocent white. I shrug at it, seeing how faint it was In comparison to the vast body of red ink Conveying useless information I probably won't need 20 years from now. I suck in my bottom lip to suck up the remaining blood As if I were a sort of deprived vampire.

With a rotting brain and heart, A dead, cold manner and no words, I saunter around this place, Longing to consume your mind, Your heart, Your eyes, Even your very soul. No matter what obstacles lie in my path, Cars or barriers or running, fearful people, Even if it ends in failure, Even if I get shot down, I will continue to roam this place And I won't stop Until Your heart Is mine

     Last night I had the most amazing dream. It was so simple, and yet it was one of the best things I have ever experienced. It felt so real to me, too.     In my dream, I was at school. The weird thing was that it looked more like my middle school than my highschool. There were also more trees around. It was so beautiful. The sun was setting (daylight savings time has ended in El Paso and I get out of school at 4 o'clock, so I guess this kind of makes sense.) and there were vast clouds hanging high in the sky. The sun was casting shadows on everything and making the clouds look like large puffs of gold. Everything was half-light and half