i dragged the blade across my skin
and bled the pain away
the curse that flowed around within
no longer had to stay

i huffed and could no longer feel
if i was still alive
and asked for beatings hard and real
to help me then revive

my face had blackened here and there
i morphed into one dead
i had no time to eat my hair
had left my waning head

in time i withered like a leaf
as autumn did arrive
and knew just by the weight of grief
my corpse was still alive

but one day as i sat in bed
and found an empty pad
i wrote the tale of my life's dread
the mourning of the sad

i cut the forms of letters there
the pen unstopped had bled
the curse into the morning air
and i would live instead

(C)2019, Christos Rigakos

grating leg bark
blinding and smooth
my hair snow is ugly but

my burning pierces your pupils
i comply and i deceive
make my mind up
every night
a different hue you must shine

"you look stunning"
yet i feel like a puzzle
i slot my imperfections into the middle
so he won't see me until he tastes me

get teased
until you pick up three-hundred degrees
as YOU tease until you like who you see

why can he be anything
but i have to recalibrate
before i can celebrate

i will never reach my final form

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
What would i do
If i loved me too?

<Insert Poem Here>

<Insert Silent Sympathies Here>

<Insert Spiraling Tenancies Here>
   (Wait...No. Not that.)
<Delete Line>

<Insert Self Doubt Here>

<Insert Friends Here>
   [File Not Found]
::Comment:: What about me?

<Insert Apology Here>

<Insert Regret Here>

<Insert Pain Here>

<Insert Poem Here>


<RvL>

'Are you pleasing those Lions?'

She thinks to herself under Nelson's Column.

'I am no hero of the Nile, nor of Trafalgar. I am an empty vessel.'

City of Angels, yet full of devils. Will she find the exit from Oblivion, in those molten, vermillion revels?

'And will you climb that stairway to heaven? Is it true that what glitters is gold?'

That golden dust, which lies on her beside table, sedative for her sorrows.

'Oh he was a foul coxcomb. England expects every heart will follow its duty!'

She is followed, by those feral eyes;
Those on the underground, those in the streets

And those who she will wish
her eyes will never meet.

Sure, I've ruined it again!
Follow me around like I'm the actual
And only problem. You'll eventually get yours!
So you think I'm the ultimate biggest of fools?

(Well, for once and for all, check yourself!)*

Nice people finish last, and there's nothing nice
About going around with personal problems, that I
Have to fit your personal standard, even when they
Are following all of the standard rules!

(To the tune of "Like a ******'.)
Not a ******,
Queen of the molls,
Not a ******,
So I've been told,
Not a ******,
I'm like, well, old,
Not a ******,
Please stop your moans,
Not a ******,
That's why men are alone,
Not  a ******,
I'm like, well, old,
Not a ******,
So I 've been told,
Not a ******,
You sound like a ***,
Get over it!!!!!

There are people, by popular opinion, too insignificant and too small.
But the majesty of a masterpiece lies in it's tiniest intricacies!

-The Silent Poet.