This is a poem that I wrote a LONG time ago, in 8th grade. I read it aloud infront of the class, and Jen really liked it. She asked me to find it for her, so I'm posting it up here. In all honesty, this is shit, but hey, if Jen likes it, then it must be good. She's my snoogle. <3 This is for you, Radhi.

Kiss

He crawls out of his coffin,
a night walker on the hunt.
His eyes glow in the darkness
for in light he is shunned.
Hunger boils within him
for the crimson essence he so craves.
When animalistic urges take over,
he doesn't know how to behave.
A victim sits on a park bench.
He walks slowly to her side.
She doesn't notice him yet.
Across the ground, he seems to glide.
White fangs show in his mouth.
He's esxcited by the terror in her eyes.
Gingerly, he sucks life out of her
and softly, she begins to cry.
Heart stops pumping; she's dead now,
her body slumped against the ground.
He licks his lips greedily.
In the morning she'll be found.
When day breaks, his fun is over.
The sun burns his pale, cold skin.
Police will flock to the park
to find another victim in the wind.
Sun peaks, and he heads home
to the coffin he doesn't miss.
Tonight, another soul will be taken
by the vampire's kiss.

©Jade Smith
3-11-04

Currently Reading Danse Macabre (Anita Blake Vampire Hunter) By Laurell K. Hamilton see related

     So, this is another poem inspired by a conversation I had. I like this one, a lot, actually. You can always count on me to write something depressing. If the spirit moves you, feel free to comment on it, but I know that in most cases, it won't.

There's A Shadow With Your Name On It

I'm a half empty pack
of crushed cigarettes lodged
in someone's back pocket on a
rainy Sunday afternoon,
while they knock back vodka shots
and ponder over
how many more times
they have to lie to themselves.
I'm a look between two lovers
after they've said their
final goodbyes,
after they've successfully
degraded each other
into nothing,
after they've finally
killed what once made them great.
I'm a little, white lie
that was told to protect
a loved one, but it got
tangled and twisted,
warped and misconstrued,
until it became a
monster that devoured
both souls.
I'm the disregarded condom
that never got used,
that's still sitting
on the bedside table
nine months after
your teenage daughter
gave birth to a child
that she'll never
know how to love
or be able to provide for.
I'm that feeling you get
when you walk down an
alley alone at night,
that lurch in your stomach
when you hear an animal
scuttle through the underbrush
and you expect it to be
some masked fiend
jumping out from the foliage
to rip open your insides
and leave you dying
in a puddle of blood
while your intestines
are scattered out
along the asphalt.
I'm the unanswered
question that hangs over
dead air and tension,
that wraps around your body
and constricts you
with a suffocating silence,
that plagues you
years after you've
left your past behind.
I'm the discarded letter
that you never sent
that holds all your
secrets and fears,
all your unvoiced affections
and "I love yous"
that you never spoke,
all your apologies for
the way you acted,
every "sorry" you knew
you should have said.
I'm everything you hate
about yourself
and everything you
refuse to love.
I'm the unmentionable sin
that you never had the
guts to confess.
I'm only you.

©Jade Smith
8/22/2006

Currently Listening Never Enough By Melissa Etheridge The Letting Go see related

This was inspired after a conversation I had earlier. I know it sucks, but it has heart in it. My heart. It's not the best thing I've ever written, but it has meaning to me. It has hopes and dreams laced in every line. It has a truth that only I can understand.

Waiting

I know she's out there.
I can feel her curling strong arms
around me in the dark,
holding me close to her,
kissing away the tears
that burn down my skin.
I talk to her when I'm alone,
and I know she listens.
Somewhere across these miles
she can hear my broken words
and the tremor in my voice
as I ask her where she is.
It breaks her heart.
I see her on the street
in the embodiment of others.
I know little pieces of her
filter through my reality
and fall upon me
when I need it the most.
She's trying to keep me safe
until she arrives.
I imagine the days
we'll have together
walking through the parks
and marveling at the beauty
in nature and its creatures
or sitting at a little bistro
in the corner near the back
where the light is dim.
She'll hold my hand
while we talk and laugh,
making them all jealous.
She smells like lavendar
and jasmine
with a hint of something
undetectable,
unknown.
I like the mystery.
Her eyes are deep and soulful,
with something more lurking
beyond the surface,
tempting me,
pulling me in.
Her skin,
like silk.
Her voice,
like velvet.
She'll tell me she's
been waiting
and ask if I got
her messages.
She doesn't want me to worry.
She'll take me home
and love me
like only she could,
easing every bit of tension,
calming every fear,
releasing all the demons.
She'll brace me as I shake
and smile at my breathless
amazement.
She'll never see her beauty.
We'll fall asleep,
tangled in sheets and sweat,
knowing that now that we've
found each other
everything's going to be ok.
I know she's out there.

(c)Jade Smith
8/4/06

The copyright thing doesn't want to work, so I made my own again.

Currently Watching Stigmata see related

"Your secret's out, and the best part is, it isn't even a good one."

     Mmmkay. So, here's another little piece of shit I pulled out of my head. I started it a while ago and never finished it, but today I was looking through some files and came across it. It's so-so. Anyways, without further ado...

Confessions of a Martyr

You stood before me,
as if it was the last time
we'd ever see each other.
The hair partially covered your face,
but I could still see your deep,
brown eyes and the tears
that almost began to well up in them.
Your lip trebmled as you bit it unconsciously.
You always did have a habit of doing that.
I stared at the soft features of your face,
studying them silently.
I heard you sigh heavily
and start to say something,
but you stopped in mid-sentence
as if you were afraid to finish it.
I watched you nervously play with your hands,
as I slowly let my eyes
trace the curves of you figure,
locking it all away deep inside of my memory.
I knew I couldn't get through to you,
no matter how many words I said
or sentences I finished.
All that we were began to
disintegrate before my eyes,
and the only thing I could do
was sit on the couch
with my knees pulled
up to my chest and stare.
Everything you said to me went
over my head and hit the wall,
shattering into sharp,
little pieces of broken promises.
I never knew that your words
could mean nothing to me.
It seemed the end had come and gone,
with no beginning to be found.
I gathered all my courage
and left that room,
the room that has come to bury us,
screaming at you as I passed by.
And somewhere between the
bathroom and the stairs,
I left my heart bleeding
on the ground to serve you
as a reminder of all the nights
we spent together,
all the words you said to me
between gasping breaths,
all the I love yous whispered
into delicate ears.
And as I sit here now,
by myself,
I almost miss you.

(c)Jade Smith<---I can't get the little copyright thinger to work, but yeah. I made my own.
4/27/06

Currently Reading Annie on My Mind By Nancy Garden see related

"If you just walked away what could I really say? And would it matter anyway? It wouldn't change how you feel."

     I could write pages upon pages of words to describe how I feel. I could make complex sentences with vibrant adjectives, varied word choice, and perfect punctuation. I could create a beautiful masterpiece, but none of it would matter. I could never get my point across. Somewhere between my mind and my mouth, or my pen, all my words seem to lose meaning and credibility. They appear to me as little squiggles on a page, just blobs of ink with no distinct characteristics or patterns. All my words seem to lack life. They're cold and curt, dripping with cynicism and hatred. I can barely stand to read the things I've written. It's all become so bitter, so brutal, so....desperately obvious.