Find your next favourite story now
Login
Daisy
Over 90 days ago

Stories

Series

She is cracked and dryShards of whatShould be.Empty air does not live here,A harsh lit space of nothingnessWhere blinding whiteScours reject sidesAnd spears of brokenStab the world.The winds of voicesFlow on pastUnheard.There is no soil or waterBound to take in seedsSoft blown alongTo settle lightly,Root down firm,For nothing livesIn arid pain.Tip the broken vesselOn her endFor shame.Noisome ooze of fecal oil,A black and...

I am the moth in the jarHammering hard against glassAs it warms in the sunrise andBakes in the heatOn my fragile dry leafOf unfortunate soulEver flipping itselfTo get outAnd to breathe.Where the cruel sun beats downOn my wings turning vapidOver dryness insipidThat cracks ancient velvetThat once had held wisdomPotentially vibrant inDust-devil murmursThat whisper the secretsWe all knew and know now,I don't belong here.  Thi...

The Void

If she could only let you feel it, perhaps you'd understand...

There is only darknessWhere all others hide their souls,A gravity so uglyWhere the air is rank and noisomeAnd the darkling ghosts hide screamingIn the humming, chasmic voidWhere she hides forgotten secretsIn the place she finds no floor.There are chains wrapped tight around herWhere vainglory's efforts fellIn existence ever futileWhen her life is reeking sicklyWhere the stink of rotting fettersDig in flesh so fat and weak...

Another Day, Another Panic Attack

The difficulties of living with anxiety, and how something little can make a huge difference

I was awake at 4am (after dreaming of panicking), worrying about going to Painsburys for 7am (when it tends to be quiet), when it occurred to me that Stressco might already be open! It was, and so I went down there. There were lots of workers doing the online shopping rounds, but they were all polite and friendly, and got out the way if I needed things, and got on with their work as I mostly just kept to myself and avoide...

'Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the townNot a shopper was smiling, they each wore a frown;The cars they were parked in their bays willy-nilly,Whilst pedestrians dashed to-and-fro running silly;The children were screaming for this toy or thatWhilst their grandparents scanned for milk allergies and fat;And mammas in Ugg boots and dads in bad sweaters,They fast-scanned "Dear Santa, I want..." in kids' lette...

Searching in the low light,Twisting on the needles,Head spinning,Tongue swelling,Hands trembling,Heart aching,Eyes all grainy sleepy andI cannot drift away.Memories melting in the shadowedCylinder of sod off,Churning in the bronzing goldAnd swirling past my nose,Faces laughing,Shoulders hunching,Fingers clawing,Legs twinging,Eyes all bleary sandyAnd I cannot switch me off.Brightening the day light,Dimming down the fairy l...

The sun does not set onThis face of mine,Nor soar on wings of fire to me,Nor rush to greet me,Kiss me, leave me,Nor burn and scorch the skin from me.It is I who moves awayWithdrawnFrom light and lifeAll blazing bright andCloistered inMy rising run,The weight of spiritLeft behind.In darkness seeps the weeping soul,The river dry yetFlowing slow,Still, from diamond dropsI riseAnd leave the day to grow star-shocked.Not I,Not...

Where does the sun goWhen he sneaks away,When the day turns to nightAnd my thoughts fly astrayOn the wings of the whispersThat flit round my head,And the shadows creep upAnd crawl under my bed?What does he see,This bright sun of the mornAs he rides through the heavensWhere angels are bornAnd the stars of dark velvetFling ice chips to cloudsThat soft drift falling snowOn the earth in bright shrouds?How does he feel,Jolly s...

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.Put a little light in this little lamp of mine,Trim the wick and clean the soot,And rearrange the skies.Put the sparkle in the stars,And kiss the sun to bed,Then leave a cookie on a plateWith a glass of rich, creamed milk.Warm the sheets and cool the cushions,Chase the dark away,Not home to bogeymen this eve,No gibbering under t...

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.Light is the demon who clothes us in iron,Broken the fae in the gift for our souls.Here is the coal in the seamless rockfacesWhere heat of the ice is our weathering vane.Shifts in the black sandsAnd sea foam in green skies,Scudding clouds lost in the bright ocean blue.Mirror looks down on the face that looks inWhere the sickly s...

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.You make meHappyThough I may not say whatOr whenOr how deep this love can seep itselfInside my broken soul.You make meHappyThough the cotton clouds race awayAnd chase the daisy shadows whereThe stars wink their tears awayAnd rest in fields of moss.You make meHappyWhere storms cannot abideAnd tears cannot quite quashThe tiniest b...

Throbbing Sockets

Post-surgery agony - such a simple yet hideous thing

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.Throb, throb, throb,With the weight of liquid lead oceansThumping against theLeague-thick wallsOf iron and stone whereCaverns of viscous bloodSeeps and pumps intoEmpty sockets of spikey stitchingAnd all I know isPain,Pain,PainAnd the sweltering molten hot ice ofAgonising ache.Throb, throb, throb,With the weight of the planetsIn...

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.Face in the shadowsWhere eyes burn black candlesAnd wax in the waterHas armoured the lips,A soul freezes hellWith the loneliness cruel,And the silence is lostWhere the knife of noise slips.The buzz and the humOf the jostling friendsWho are not friends in truth,Nor are saviours of peace,Are a salve to the guiltyWho hide all their...

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.Where grace and evilMeet the screaming stars,Lamplight in dragonlightEchoes matchless lost dreamsAnd are torn apart in raging squalls.Twisting vines of sweet decayAre wreathed around this ugly neckAnd thorns of bitterness so blackStab down and rip teeth through her throat.Break the night and cull the heart,Or writhe the scoffing...

Nothing

The legacy of lying

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.The steam curls in the downlit beam like the fingers of cigarette smoke crawling their way into virgin lungs;Like your lies crawled their way underneath my skin;Like your venom crawled its way into my heart.The motes of moisture push against each other like unruly teenagers in an ugly playground;Like your words pushed my thought...