The sky is my journal, p.2
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       The Sky is My Journal, p.2

           Danielle Wertz
 
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red and orange

  Hair of blue and green

  Ball gowns twirled all around.

  Many of the ruffled outfits,

  Twisting and turning,

  Created a sea and fire:

  Flames and an Ocean.

  It snaked close and closer.

  The middle, they came.

  There was a mint and death.

  Goddess and God.

  Glares spiraled their way,

  Humans became monsters,

  Rainbow eyes all became black,

  Some even blood red.

  Minds deluded by hate,

  Eyes covered in greed,

  Hearts taken to dark,

  Nothing was right.

  A glance behind him,

  A glare past her,

  The slowly came in,

  Breaking the little calm.

  The circles lashed out,

  It was her power,

  His amplification,

  When all monsters fainted.

  "Thanks for the boost."

  She smiled and ran.

  "The usual spot."

  He left, quite cocky in tone.

  They met again in dark,

  The roofs of Venice,

  A full moon glittered,

  Rose bushes visible.

  She smiled with kindness,

  That same smile from past,

  He bowed his head,

  That bow to be polite.

  Among that rooftop line,

  The two waltzed again.

  She laughed happily,

  He chuckled and closed his eyes.

  A God of Death and War,

  The Goddess of Honesty and Wit.

  He bowed at the end.

  "Meet me again some time.

  She departed.

  He had vanished.

  Tears gleamed on her face.

  Blood ran off his wrist.

  "I'll never forget."

  "I'll always remember."

  "The devil may cry."

  "The Goddess shall die."

  Ode for You

  Brown hair rode the wind,

  Amber eyes glistened with light.

  You heart was pure.

  My heart was dark.

  Looking in your gems of eyes,

  I could almost see a Light.

  Entranced, a tear rolled down,

  Your pale, cloth skin,

  Soft and smooth, no blemishes.

  How can you smile so sad?

  Another day became today,

  I still didn't finish.

  That old drawing of you,

  I just can't do you justice,

  I cannot match up for you.

  It pains me to think that.

  The last day, you were beautiful;

  You had matched wonderful,

  Vibrant, brilliant colors.

  That day is gone, I live on.

  Poetry

  What is poetry?

  To me, poetry is

  a style of writing;

  A way to express feelings,

  A type of beauty.

  What is poetry?

  To me, poetry is

  The colors of the wind,

  The outline of pieces,

  The flour of the bread.

  What is poetry?

  To me, poetry is

  pencils to the paper;

  paint to the brush;

  salt to the pepper.

  What is poetry?

  To me, poetry is

  emotions,

  words,

  meanings.

  What is poetry?

  To me, poetry is

  Stanzas with meaning,

  Lines with phrases,

  But mostly, it is my heart.

  Cold Water

  He sees me and he thinks of a damned life.

  She sees me and she thinks of a ruined soul.

  You see me but there's nothing.

  A web of love and all you get in return is nothing.

  A posted picture and people call you cute.

  A whole conversation and people call you drama-addict.

   

  I wade in cold water,

  So cold it's almost ice,

  But that's okay since I'm apparently not nice.

  I wade in cold water,

  Like the Ninth Ring of Hell,

  But that's okay because that's where I belong.

   

  Memories shatter,

  Painful times patter,

  But the only thing I fear

  Is being loved.

  Loved by the ones I hurt,

  Loved by the ones that hurt me.

   

  I wade in cold water,

  So cold it's almost ice,

  But that's okay since I'm apparently not nice.

  I wade in cold water,

  Inside the Ninth Ring of Hell,

  But that's okay because that's where I belong.

   

  An empty shell waits.

  It's trial time and she steps forward.

  The silvery shackles clinging to her.

  Solemn, dead, grey eyes look up as she hears the judging,

  Then off she goes,

  Down to hell.

  I Want

  I want to…

  There are many ways to end this portion of a phrase.

  I want to have fun.

  I want to live.

  I want to drink.

  I want to get intimate.

  I want to eat.

  Of course, those are positive ways.

  What I’m focused on are the negative ways.

  The ways a good percentage of our population thinks in.

  I want to die.

  I want to scream.

  I want to cry.

  I want to be alone.

  I want to be beautiful.

  I want to be just a dream.

  Thinking

  Thinking is an unhealthy thing

  Think too long and you eventually lose yourself

  But,

  Saying that,

  I was thinking recently…

  Am I part of a Neo-Lost Generation?

  Or am I a continuation?

  Should there be a new label?

  Why was there a label in the first place?

  Purity Ring

  The ring that binds you

  It holds you close to your love

  But tears you away from life

   

  I t ’ s   a   d a r k   f e e l i n g

   

  You just know someone loves you

  But you feel like you are meaningless

   

  It isn’t until you put it on…

  The cold band on your finger

  That you realize

  There’s a point

  Being

  Running

  Falling

  All that is left

  Is darkness

  All that makes it

  Is unreachable

  No hope

  No saviour

  No life

  No emotion

  No composition

  Nothing

  The still of the emptiness

  It pulls and pleads

  With lack of pride

  Giving in and leaving

  Only a corpse

  Taking the mourners along

  Oppose

  Darning

  Adorning

  Calling

  Ignoring

  Showering

  Rejecting

  Sound

  Motion

  Connecting

  Concealing

  Swimming

  Singing

  Smiling

  Forgetting

  PHYSICAL

  MENTAL

  Twelve

  Voices

  Limbs  

  Mistake  

  Colour  

  Impulse  

  Blood  

 
Vision  

  Luck  

  Strength  

  Control  

  Despair  

  Princess

  Simplicity

  Master

  Wise

  Controlled

  Darkened

  Blackmail

  Slept

  nani mo

  utrymme

  aer

  mraz

  terre

  illyuzia

  lune

  fuego

  tubig

  timi

  hua

  jeongi

  luce

  padrobka

  Seasonal

  A cold winter's night

  The warm summer day

  A midafternoon feast in autumn

  The springtime party

  Life

  No love

  No emotion

  Darkness in light

  Happiness in darkness

  A reject

  Welcome to the world

  Full of darkness

  Verses with emotions

  Chorus of tragedy

  And the everlasting sound of

  Well

  Despair

  The Author [And her notes]

  Danielle Wertz is a teen who loves to write, draw, and read. Even though she's young, she had an early interest in publishing and in writing novels. Fascinated by animals at a young age, she worked her way through to becoming involved in video gaming and visual art.

  Visit her blog: https://thisdanisgottaflyy.tumblr.com/

  Like her page on Facebook: https://facebook.com/daniskiesqueenofall

  Author’s Notes:

  Upcoming Reads

  Unspoken Truths

  If Ever In Chaos

  Separate Yourself

 
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