My Best Friend
06/07/2021 Why ask for help when no one heeds the call?
That little girl, she's only seen the darkest side of humanity. Like the glow depicted in cinema, as a some tasteless version of a miracle, that is the slam of every negative thing in which she bears witness. Alone in the crowd, the ebony her only company, she treads carefully, though she needs not worry; they do not see beyond their own entity. Courage to ask, her own way, for someone, anyone, to be with...me. My only companion, the one who forevermore responds so intensely, the abyss, absorbs words, eating away her intellect as the synthetics fail to keep her darkest corners at bay. Alone in a crowd, meet my best friend! Won't you join us in The Void? It's lovely here, like a quiet, cold, and dead sea.
About the Creator
Melissa Oros
Macbre poetry. In 2013 I had an emotional breakdown. I notice now most of the inspiration comes from the darker place since then (before 2013), versus my older poetry being light, funny, passionate in love, etc.
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Death of the Needful Hand
Family. Lifeline? No. Those "so close" are blind. Fill your minds with lies, resigned in erroneous reveries. Such things in past were perceived as creative, imagination, positivity. But, as many things, a turn of the knob, acknowledging the door is locked, suddenly a reverie becomes false ideals as adulthood eats it's way through you. Abandoned; left to rot in deep thoughts, the off-white phalanges tap, tap, tap away, typing out curses of your remaining destiny. Remember words spewed in envy, thoughtless claims of regret, and your expression that WE are weak. Look back, you'll see who is really in need. Push your ignorant judgments aside, you sicken me yet again with your disbelief. I know now...your olive branch, that I mistook for late blossoming maturity, was dead and withered. Another one of you lies. F*ck me, one more lost friendly.
By Melissa Oros3 years ago in Poets
Perfect Little Pirate
The rough, sodden rope bit into her fingers as she swung over the roiling water far below. Reaching out with the toe of her boot, she managed to catch hold of the rain-soaked railing of the ship- and promptly slipped. Throwing herself forward, she landed hard on the deck, slamming her elbows against the wood planks. The sharp yelp of pain quickly bubbled into a laugh, and she rolled onto her back, laughing up at the gray sky as a torrent of rain washed away the soot covering her skin.
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