Waiting for a coach
and four
that never came,
she realized
a ball gown
won't bloom
out of sackloth;
glass slippers
are not dependable
and mice
are best left
to their own devices.
Midnight was never a friend,
and under that suit
he is the same as any other
man.

IcarusSun girl,

the whispering stars
& feathered clouds dance
for you tonight.

Do not let anyone
clip your wings;

you were made for the skies.

Definition of a Writerwrit•er

noun /rītər/

A writer is a person
Who sees the world differently
From a high perspective of understanding
To an easily balanced imagery

They stand at the edge of the cliff
And run that extra mile
To gain what a normal person cannot see
And to obtain the hope that they wish to cherish

A writer is a person
Who buries their ego and places boulders upon it
They learn the rules, follow the rules, and will break the rules
And make writing their own

They lay upon the dusty old ground of a graveyard
And do an annual ritual to free the inspiration that has been pinned down
They want to show their abnormality to everyone

Red DressDon’t put on your red dress
for he doesn’t know the meaning
he doesn’t want the commitment
he doesn’t care for the color.

The red dress you love to wear
that’s stained from wine and beer
but still carries so much meaning
for who could find a second red dress

Don’t go out on your red dress
for the man who wants nothing more
to screw around and doesn’t understand
the meaning behind a simple red dress.

A red dress for when you dance.
A red dress for when you cry.
A red dress for when you need it.
A red dress for when you care too much.

Don’t put on your red dress for him darling
he doesn&rsqu

i got flowers oncei am lonely.
i received flowers once
and i placed them
in a vase til
the petals all browned
desiccated
and turned to dust
on the glass of my bureau.

i have never gotten flowers since.

i spend my days
with a boy
a man
whom i love far beyond reason
and he holds me in his arms
and holds me together.

i bite my nails
and pull my hair
over the moment when he
inevitably
feels the disenchantment
fall over his body,
all clean lines
and smooth shapes,
and realises that leaving
the worst thing
would be
the best thing.

i am lonely
and even with a hand to hold,
and even with a cloak of security
bunching around my shoulders
and hiding my thighs,
i feel

moonshines in georgiaman on the moon:

giddy with lumps of north georgia seas
greased on the crease of my lips
gravity drips from couch-cavities
when tides belch from below --

burst on the water's edge,
earth's bourbon sailors retch in moonshined ripples
trickled blue murder on their crinkled crimes;
raking water wrinkles like a wayward drunk
stuck on sunken bootleggin' dreams.

it's been a long, long time
since I've drowned your hemisphere
for fishing like a moonraker,
swishing my bait-lines like tobacco's
squished in your shallow gums
before you dare to down my air
breathing in this sincere georgia night.

L.E.S.B.I.A.N.Living on the
Edge of life
Saving myself
Being who
I truly am
As it is all i can be
Never forget that

Blame The ParentsI won't be able to keep a relationship in the future because I'm scared
I'm scared it'll turn out like theirs

I'm a pacifist because I hate watching it
I hate watching them fight

I have PTSD because of their fights
Their fights almost broke up this family

I self harm because they are pushing me over the edge
I was already close to jumping, but they gave me an extra push

I'm always in my room because that's how I run away
I guess that's called "Like father, like daughter"

I only eat one meal a day because he constantly puts me down
Even though he's joking, I can tell he means every bit of what he says

I can't trust anyone because they do

Missing piecesMissing pieces

There are wounds
that never heal; silences
so loud they thunder - I stopped
breathing years ago, that night
the ice took my chest. Since then
I walk in pieces, howling
around my heart.

-SophieCT, 2012, 2013

Asperger's SyndromeAsperger’s Syndrome

This is what makes me different.
It is what makes me both distant and compassionate.
It is what makes me both tired and creative.
It is what makes me both sassy and awkward.
It is what makes me both fairly normal and completely insane at the same time.

This is what makes me amazing.
It is what gives me my talents and achievements.
It is what gives me my intelligence and ideas.
It is what gives me my humor and individuality.
It is what gives me my passion and dedication.

This is what makes me flawed.
It is what makes me confused and anxious.
It is what makes me exhausted and frustrated.
It is what makes me uncertai

field notesi read some poetry
just for the sound--for the words lilting up and down
and the thick, honeysepia
polaroids unmisting in my head.
those are the poems i never understand
and the only conclusion i can draw is:
there is apparently
some supernova poetic awakening that comes
with the loss of virginity
and basically i need to get laid.

MorningA black cat sleeps in a ray of sun
My coffee is lousy
Another cardboard morning
The day isn't a blank canvas
Waiting to be painted
Its already scrawled with
Yesterday's mad crayon drawings

Smoke drifts up and out of the window
I drink the coffee

van houten must be godi. you know how in embroidered cloth,
from the bottom under the design,
all you see are knots? her honey-like,
crying
voice lulls me to sleep,
that's what we see of God's plan.
just the knots. when in reality,
it's the design on top;
beautiful and flawless that He
has in store for us.
bullshit.
i learnt that word
when i was three
but every time i said it,
my face hurt and mom's hand fell.
God will put you
in hell.
do you want that?
i knew better than to say it again.
ii. you're an estimated
fallacy, the perfect
misconception.
you don't need to exist
for people to believe.
they make you real with
dancing tongues behind
a crowd
of murmuring lips of
god's will.
iii. of the rain,
i sang songs, whispering
prayers only you
could hear.
if you truly are
what they say for you to be,
then there are no secrets
between you and me.
mother still sings
the same songs
in the rain, hoping
you'll hear her the way
i thought you would.
but she doesn't know you died long ago
with chiv

blood-red wine and skeleton jazz i.
the day you left,
your cobweb dress clung to you in ways
that i would dream about for years,
in hot, fevered nights
when the moon thought it might burst
in the sky,
and even the wind wailed your name.

ii.
i remember how you called make-up war paint,
and you drew it across your face like a message
i could never decipher;
i remember how i got goosebumps when i heard
your heels clicking across the floor at 3am
when you finally got home and slipped into bed;
i remember longing for you with every fiber of my being,
feeling separate from you even when our clothes lay on the floor
and your fingernails dug into my shoulders
and your toes curled

thieves of nocturne skiesPaper lanterns are midnight requiems
That tell me to look beyond the
light and have &

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LonelinessLeave me alone
Give me shaded rocky corners
In the shadow of the wind
Let the sun shine back upon me
You know you took it from me old friend
Please leave me. And dont come back again.

Like stone cattle through stormcloud valleys
You keep running through my mind
And I used to like the feeling but
It's hurting me this time
Take your noise and your pain
And do not haunt my mind again.

Like some maddened ancient butcher
You cut for my heart again
I once gave it to you but now
I take it back again.
Get your knife from out my chest
And do not cut at me again.

Like sandstorms from distant deserts
You callus my skin to steel
It

Elves Nighttime WelcomeIn the dark
Search the stars
On this moonless cloudy night
For the magic
Of the elves
As they play the glimmering light
Like a top
Like a song
Those who can see all delight
In the whispered lighting fancies they behold.

It's the elves
Who control
The light that's in the dark
And their magic
That we see
With each beating of our heart
So look up
In the night
Leave the city find a park
And loose your conscience in the magic of the elves

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Woman

by ~Panther-Nora, Oct 29, 2003, 11:46:59 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

I’m not afraid of dirt
or mud or muck or doing hard work.
With a saw or axe I’ll fell, limb, and buck a tree,
and though it may not be the prettiest job you see
it works, and that’s what really counts.

When it comes to looks I don’t care an ounce,
be they mine or yours or the job I did,
‘cause though I’m not pretty I’ve got thoughts in my head.
So when I go to sleep in my cold lonely bed,
(which is the way I prefer it, don’t get upset)
when I’m alone, I’ve my mind’s company,
and that’s really all than anyone needs.

73

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Womanby ~Panther-Nora

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Just something I was working on, by no means my best. I think.

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File Size: 682 bytes

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~TeArFrOMaHeARtLesSSo Jan 26, 2004 Writer

Yes females are better than males.....all men are dumb or slow (like me ^^) and you only have blondes lol....but i dunno you are just better.....but i would say that....i love all girls ^_^, Flirter heh!

~Panther-Nora Jan 26, 2004

I wouldnt go to that extreem. Women and men are different but equal. there are some things that men do better and some things that women dominate. It all balances.

it's nice of you to say that though.

~TeArFrOMaHeARtLesSSo Jan 26, 2004 Writer

lol meh abit of extreme keeps peeps on there toes.....ya welcome i aint got a problem....women smell nicer anyways lol

~Chains Nov 24, 2003

Anyone who thinks that women are less than men are fools. For every area that men are better than women, there is one where women are better, which is enough to make them equal.
However, women can do one thing that men cannot: continue the human race. Women possess both chromosones and men only have one.

~Chains Jan 16, 2004

oops. Sorry, I am an idiot and easily confused. Please forget part of my comment.
The rest still stands, though.

~Panther-Nora Jan 16, 2004

are you sure? because arent men xy and women xx?

*Melanophrionsa Nov 16, 2003

Of course women are as good as men! infact, in many cases they are better- I am male and not afraid to say that ether.

People who think that men are better than women or superior to them are just -_-

~BOOSHNOODLE Nov 4, 2003

this is more insightful than alot of other stuff I"ve read. I like it and I"ll be looking back in on your page

~deesse-feerique Nov 1, 2003

this is good...i like how you are saying that girls are important and worth something.....great job....:smiles:

~Panther-Nora Nov 2, 2003

Thank you! I totaly feel that Women are just as good as Men, and I'm glad someone liked the poem I wrote about it.

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