write rhymes

Yes I was searching for peace and I tried killing myself for it
—  Cynthia Chapman // recovering
A Bug’s Life

@dustyirish and I had way too much writing this!

I am Morpheus, watching spring’s metamorphosis.
It’s torture to see from the peephole of my chrysalis.
No time has passed in my sandless hourglass.
What else can I do but mock the bugs in the grass?

The grasshopper pounces, frisks and flounces
With a sassy wiggle in all his bounces.
He’s a spitter, when he takes on a crass role.
In truth, he’s really a bit of an asshole.

The Bumblebee, loud in his bumbling way,
Beatboxes about, disturbing my day.
It’s “black and yellow” this, and “black and yellow” that.
I wish it was him the grasshopper spat at!

The ant, he must have quite the six-pack!
By bustling, building, breaking his back,
power-lifting, and moving boulders,
carrying the world’s weight on his shoulders.

The ladybug, she isn’t ladylike at all,
Flashing her bright red polka-dot shawl,
Leaving clusters of eggs where she roams.
Ladybug​, ladybug, just fly away home.

I wish the bugs would just bug off,
But the pretty in me has just turned on.
I can feel myself changing from inside.
My moment, finally, has arrived.
Watch me as my wings unfurl,
As I burst into the world.
My hourglass has split into two.

Look out, Spring, I’m coming for you!

HORROR option

I meant to write this days ago woops So @ask-sadisticdark wrote a poem a bit ago and I wanted to try so here:

The room turn black and starts to spin
I can only stare back as it all begins
I hear a sound, an echo, a scream
I see the blue, the red, A DREAM!
I must be insane, This cannot be
A darkened figure stands before me
The sounds, they dance and torment my ears
“I’ve waited a long time, and now you’re here”
It gets harder to listen, but harder to quit
my heartbeat is racing, it’s having a fit
I feel afraid because you will do me harm
And yet captivated because of your charm
A mix of emotions I don’t understand
As you straighten your tie and clasp your hands
“Pick a choice of four” but no real option appears
The only choice I have is a date with fear


4

How does a servant, menial, grown for her congenial assistance,
existent by necessity, yet in her Homeworld’s eyes a mere accessory,
appendage to a Gem who shouldn’t think of her as thinking,
go on to challenge armies without blinking?

(insp: 1 2 )

every time I look at the stars
I dream of a planet
where the girls love themselves
and the boys do not hurt them.

and I dream of being there instead.

—  tjr 16/2/17
8

I want to see you.

Know your voice.

Recognize you when you
first come ’round the corner.

Sense your scent when I come
into a room you’ve just left.

Know the lift of your heel,
the glide of your foot.

Become familiar with the way
you purse your lips
then let them part,
just the slightest bit,
when I lean in to your space
and kiss you.

I want to know the joy
of how you whisper
“more”

by Rumi

I swear, it’s like I missed you before we ever spoke
—  Cynthia Chapman