there’s a black & white
 h   o   l   e
where my face once was;
the lines have
bledintospace



countless figurines adorn my stand
where you once adored me

I could have been your trophy,
if I remembered how to win;
now the essence of colorful rules has vanished

ivy  has


               o

        r              w

    g			  n          
        around my frame               



making it impossible to 					leave


get out your knife;


there’s still a little left
inside [me].



06/18/2005
Author's Note: [It's not about pain;
it's about acceptance]

Posted on 06/19/2005
Copyright © 2024 Ava Blu

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Ashok Sharda on 06/20/05 at 03:01 AM
Well, I see desperation, more than pain or acceptance.And the expressions? they are razor sharp.
Posted by Joseff Marat on 09/28/05 at 06:00 AM
Great definition, in my opinion, of a goth poem.
Posted by Michael Faraday on 12/30/05 at 03:42 AM
nicely done
Posted by Steven Kenworthy on 12/10/06 at 03:53 AM
holy crap this is intense.  heavy & beautiful in that painful kind of way...that kind of, life must go on...have to deal with the world, this is hurting & gorgeous fashion.  it takes a certain strength/rawness to stomach this type of trial.  such a great capture of a piece of the world we live in.  prettypretty.
Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 03/21/07 at 11:45 AM
this is the sort of poem, unto whose portals, once entered, would be difficult of any reader to exit sans a regret. for therein these delicate assemblies of words there is captured much beauty.