bloggity blog, poetry

little trees and fallen leaves

Seat laid back I stare up at the sky Out window, tinted dark Through the glass to my side Watching the skeletal trees Turn from verde to oxide My little trees hang twist spin In the turbulent gaseous air All the scents of the rainbow To match with my despair I count them now strawberry… Continue reading little trees and fallen leaves

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animation, Art, bloggity blog, poetry

broken dolls, clay and strings and 1996 frames

Well... it only took me 4 weeks... but I did it. 1996 frames... my biggest project yet. A true monster. It has been a long day so I will not turn into Ramberley and ramble ramble ramble... I am still really enjoying making the stop motion. It mostly comes out the way my brain wants… Continue reading broken dolls, clay and strings and 1996 frames

bloggity blog, poetry

my fears plucked

Him Biting off more than he could chew Porcelain teeth cut through my soft flesh Spat out my pieces The bits he found so distasteful Am I so distasteful? Displeasing disposable This taste, full heart The window in my new room In my new home Is wide open now Negative temperature air Floating through my… Continue reading my fears plucked

bloggity blog, poetry

the me I am

Hi... Maybe you can help me... Do you know where I am? Not where I am right now, but the me I am looking for? The me I am looking for is about my height. She is sort of like me in looks... maybe a little prettier. She is definitely less awkward. Her words do… Continue reading the me I am

bloggity blog, poetry

the madness beneath

Some days I feel my crazy slipping. My mind, the fragile beastie it is, plays tricks on me. Trying to convince me to give in. Just relax into, give in to my madness that lurks beneath the surface. Like sinking into a warm bath. That is when I am forced to grab a stick and… Continue reading the madness beneath

bloggity blog, poetry

flower, when plucked

Flowers need the Earth, the ground, to be flowers But the ground is still the ground without the flower The flower does remain the flower, when plucked. Once a pretty little thing to look upon, but soon wilting, dying. The ground doesn't need anything to be itself. It is always the ground. If someone asks… Continue reading flower, when plucked

bloggity blog, poetry

skin old scars

There is an itch under my skin no bug or allergen or stray touch caused it I scratch I cannot stop It's like the problem is under that layer or the next and if I just keep burrowing I will remove it Sometimes I don't notice "stop scratching, Amberley!" Someone says. Blood under my fingernails… Continue reading skin old scars

bloggity blog, poetry

Too me

Too annoying Too much Too big Too small Too short Too smart Too mouthy Too ugly Too cute Too rude Too sweet Too vulgar Too trashy Too clingy Too unattached Too weak Too strong Too nice Too chatty Too friendly Too silly Too dark Too weird Too crazy Too straight Too ethnic Too white Too… Continue reading Too me

bloggity blog, poetry

yours, my hell

I live exist in the house of nightmares Reliving little horrors skin re-torn bruises re-blackened I walk through the hall of mirrors but the reflections are all different Me the way you saw me hideous, repulsive Me with you at my back knife at my throat My eyes are not my eyes They are yours,… Continue reading yours, my hell

bloggity blog, Mother Fucking Rant, poetry

fight in silence

We fight in silence we battle with words using punctuation to scream using structure and verse to cut deep into each others flesh this is the new but the fight is still the same We love too much to love And hate ourselves too much to change this is the new but the fight is… Continue reading fight in silence