rainchild

washing hands under scorching water,

her pink palms scream, begging for the cold rain

pouring outside this pulsing dinner party.

she doesn’t belong in crowded gatherings.

snickering laughter like drum beats

erupting under muddy stars & shackled moon beams.

does she belong in confined mazes

brimmed with echoes?

their requests swirl behind

her bloodshot eyes & sobbing thoughts

trembling fingers flick water off

her skin as she shudders under faulty lights.

let her leave.

this menacing scene

collapses with sneering glares

as she opens a window near the sink.

climbing out, she scrapes her belly

on the metal sill.

her skin breathes

under the falling raindrops

like soft petals.

honey children never wake

dreaming

of bathing in the sun, digging bare hands

in crushed chrysanthemums & giggling

at the purple dust staining our palms.

dirty feet bump into each other

as our toes burrow into wet sand.

twinkling, glazed eyes follow seagulls

playfully wrestling in foamy clouds.

we turn our heads towards each other

watching

tangled hair swaying in the breeze

like grass blades dancing

under summer moons coaxing out

starry stories hidden beneath

our thumping hearts.

can i hit it again?

to light a wet cigarette

is a burden carried

by the lonely wolf.

slumped in a swiveling chair

before a barren desk.

thought floating

around his skull

like blue wisps of smoke.

faraway eyes reflecting

a journal reduced

to an ashy carcass.

paws clenching a glass

of honey whiskey, its water droplets

seeping into his greying fur.

“would you like the blinds open?”

an echoing voice

scattering the angry whispers

inside his head like blowing

out sandalwood candles.

glistening eyes slowly

focusing on the flickering

shadow, standing in a door

that has barely opened

in the last seven months.

to watch a dynamite rope

sizzle is a fruitful experience

for the forgotten wolf.

“no, but let me hit it again.”

- ragingpages

im back :o

hii guys! I kind of disappeared off this platform but I really miss it because I feel like this is the safest place to post my poems. It’s kinda like launching little packages into space and hoping they bump into other packages. Anyway, I want relaunch this account and I want to post more often and hopefully it will motivate me to write more poems. Thank you for sticking with me.

Untitled

down by the riverside

where fragile dreams sleep

beneath whispering willows,

the girl with a torn lip

& a haunted soul

sat alone on a bed of wild daisies.

soothed by tipsy honey bees,

the girl studied magical beauty

emitting from the one that gave

her an escape from echoing frowns

& endless destruction.

its pages delicately held

her heart and mind with words

that coaxed the dusty happiness to flourish

into characters and stories who'll

wipe away the thick blood trickling

from her lip

& chase away the lurking shadows clinging

to her soul.

Trembling Self

confused was her heart

as it gazed upon

her bloody paper-cuts

& her ink-stained thumbs.

for it knew she

was a shattered fraud

craving completion

& fantasizing about satisfaction.

concerned was her heart

as it watched

her fake smiles

& her empty laughs

convincing loving souls.

for it knew she

was a wounded liar

desperate for assistance

& wild for reassurance.

terrified was her heart

as it witnessed

her violent breakdowns

& her venomous remedies.

for it knew she

was now a meaningless existence

roaming the ends of Earth,

searching for purpose

within in her hazy, trembling self.

the weekend

friday

is vivid excitement.

he takes you

into the heart of a forest

swarming with freedom & solitude.

he pulls you away

from worrisome thoughts

& blows azure smoke

over leftover anxiety.

he mirrors the feeling

of stepping off murky earth

& ascending towards

saturday...

is a boisterous adventure.

they lead you

into the soul of a sea

full of wanderlust ghosts

craving disastrous energy.

they push you further

into a hypnotic state

of adrenaline

as you finish twisty tasks.

they resemble a kaleidoscope

of volatile behaviors

defining the path to

sunday...

is flawless tranquility.

she carries you

into the body of a river

full of dreams waiting

to be brought to life.

she guides you slowly

through the pages of an old book

filled with magical creatures

seeking happiness & peace.

she echoes a night

of serene thoughts

floating around starry skies.

together the trio make

the other days envious

of their friendship.

fraud

laughter erupts in the night

heads are thrown back

& beautiful sounds escape

deep within connected hearts.

they feel the warmth of stars

glittering beneath their skin.

they feel the rush of excitement

bubbling up their chests.

& they feel magical euphoria

taking over their minds.

but one voice is a fraud.

one voice

feels the incessant vibration

of fluttering wings in their belly.

one voice

feels a searing burn spreading

from their palms to their necks.

one voice

feels overwhelming fear

chaotically crushing their mind

as they desperately try to keep

up with the act.

dull slumber

empty is the heart

of a lonely wolf

lost, only for a moment,

in his mind.

the dusty afternoon

lingering longer

after each silent breath.

though at rest,

the lonely wolf

dreams of nothing

but gray hues

& misty truths.

winter promises

I found sanctuary

in his soft temple kisses.

we sat hand in hand on

a tattered couch.

I closed my eyes

as he whispered about

the steamy mugs

of hot chocolate

we would sip before a fire,

watching flames dance freely,

next winter.

our cozy minds believed

that our fathers

would be happy for their sons.

I found security

in his curious lips

as he nuzzled my neck.

we stood shivering in a white lot.

I smiled

as he talked about

how we would

catch snowflakes

on our tongues in the streets,

daring the world to pull us apart,

next winter.

our hopeful hearts ignored

that our mothers

would disapprove with hateful glares.

& I will find serenity

when we disappear

in the midst of night

with our bags in hand,

next winter.

crime

he set fire to death

& watched black flames

eat away her gray flesh.

in his blue eyes,

sat the truth of a crime

ruthlessly committed

under the scowling stars.

their glares resembled

the boiling rage,

rushing up his throat.

moon shadows flickered

across the stained grass

where her body lay

cold and mangled.

"she was relentless,"

he spoke softly

into the wind

& vanished between the trees.

crimson love

loving her felt like

a searing, crimson burn

with hot plasma running

through our heavy hearts.

seeing her smile felt like

the fiery awakening

of our sleeping minds.

kissing her felt like

a feverous addiction

that we couldn't resist

as it roamed our lucid bodies.

& hearing her say " I love you, Freya"

felt like

a relief of a thousand savage

chains unraveling around our aching souls.

To End It

Listen to me closely,

make me smile

but don't let it fool

your positive predictions.

I need you to...

Knock the wind out of my lungs,

make me wheeze.

Let my protesting coughs pointlessly

echo off this cave's walls.

Push me off that black cliff,

make me scream

Let my piercing voice guide

you to the last violent step.

Shove my head under those salty waters,

make me struggle.

Let my weak arms frantically

thrash in the murky sea.

And I promise you,

that is the only way

to end it.

Poisonous Escape

The croaking witch lives on the darkest hill. Rumor has it that she cures contagious sadness in moldy hearts oozing anger in decayed veins & infectious anxiety in rotten brains by sinking her teeth into your bones, sucking all the corrupted blood, and releasing poisonous escape in its place. Soon after the transition begins: thoughts evaporate from minds like water feelings slip through fingers like blood & behaviors disappear from hearts like mist Soon after... you forget who you were. you save yourself & you escape. I think I might pay her a visit.