masqueradepoetry

[masqueradepoetry]

Burn

(Tw: being on fire, literally)

(I wrote this directly after The Earth and I, so same scenery. This is more trauma based like I typically write, so no aromatic interpretations of love, sorry :/)

I had almost forgot was warmth was.

Amidst raindrops and ice,

I was alone.

Would it have been rude?

To dance so delicately,

Among somewhere I should’ve died.

Am I dead?

I remember this place,

Yet I feel as if I don’t belong.

Like an orphaned child,

Wandering gilded halls

And tiled floors.

Isn’t it beautiful?

The mourning of freedom?

Has the cold come from chains?

Has it come from choice?

Am I doomed to fall?

Even if I have never flown?

Is that a shame?

What would you do as that child?

Would you steal?

Would you cry?

I am the numb steps of loss,

The shattered bits of memory

That if glued together,

Would only display the source

Of my sobbing?

If one eye weeps

And the other stays dry

Does that make me a monster?

I am the plinking notes

Of a piano just out of tune.

I fill halls with beauty that pains you,

I am the tragedy that humans consist of.

I am the empty ballroom of a castle

Long forgotten.

I am the broken chandelier,

That wishes to shine light,

But can only pierce the feet

Of those that wonder too close.

When the fire starts

I am grateful.

I am excited.

I am loved by flames

That kiss my arms and neck.

And I am happy.

Until it burns.

#tw burning #tw fire #poetry #original poem #original poetry #poem #original writing #sad poetry #original work

[masqueradepoetry]

The Earth and I

(I wrote this in a greenhouse while it’s pouring rain outside. My aromatic attempt at love poetry, or maybe I just really like dirt.)

The Earth and I are lovers.

Dancing to the same longing tune.

The rain falls on us,

But we don’t feel the chill.

The Dirt and I are married,

Between rocks and sand and wood,

We grow mushrooms with decayed love

And flowers with fertile kisses.

Each step is rhythmic,

Enticing,

Hypnotic.

We are lovers upon the land.

At night the Earth wraps me

In her warm embrace.

The wind cannot touch me,

Where we sleep.

We step along to a dance,

So old and timeless

That even the best historians cannot recognize.

The Earth and I are lovers.

And when I die,

I will not be afraid,

For her love will keep me close

And my grave will carry

The most beautiful of flowers.

#poetry #original poem #original poetry #poem #original writing #original work #love poem #aromantic #mmm dirt

[masqueradepoetry]

Just a Nightmare

(TWS: Food, unsavoury sleeping conditions, panic attack, religious trauma, anxiety, depression)

(So… here’s a peak into my nightly life in an abusive household! This whole thing was written while I was having a panic attack.)

It’s 1:18 in the morning,

My eyes are red and puffy.

My bed is stained with soda,

And my pillows are dusted with soil.

I lay beneath my covers,

Ignoring the smell of cola.

My mind is too busy running,

To think of the grave I lie upon.

I shouldn’t be up this late,

And I would give anything to sleep,

But my mind is busy racing,

So I cannot catch a wink.

Memories are colours,

And my thoughts are black and white.

My mind is like Crayola,

But I swear it’s just a nightmare.

Distractions are a blessing,

Something to hide the worries,

But my phone keeps me up late,

And I have church in the morning.

Crickets are out chirping,

My rats skuttle about.

My fan is busy wurring,

And I’m up at 1:30.

Now my arm is sticky,

From the Soda on my bed,

But it’s not like I can clean it,

So I’m stuck inside my head.

There are two men and a girl,

Who follow me in passing,

I fear that I am stuck,

In what I left long ago.

It was just simple frustration,

From an argument of blood,

But pain and memories are a choir,

I say it’s just a nightmare.

My relationships are ending,

And I fear it’s all my fault.

My girlfriend might not love me.

I say it’s just a nightmare.

My pets are slowly dying,

And my senior year is next.

I fear my grades will perish.

I say it’s just a nightmare.

I do not have a job,

My hobbies are too many.

I give my parents stress.

I say it’s just a nightmare.

I’m scared of laws and politics,

And I’m scared of being killed.

I live in fear of infamy.

I say it’s just a nightmare.

I fear I’ll wake up late,

And get scolded by my parents.

I have no valid excuse,

So I swear it was just a nightmare.

#tw food #tw abuse #tw abusive parents #tw panic attack #tw religious trauma #tw anxiety #tw depressive #poetry #original poem #original poetry #poem #original writing #sad poetry #original work

[masqueradepoetry]

Icarus

(Okay so I had to write a poem for a school thing and I didn’t want to write anything too personal cause it’s a school of rednecks and they would not be the kindest in the face of my weaknesses, so this is slightly inspired by that one really famous Icarus poem, I’ll edit this once I find the author and proper name of the poem so y’all can read it yourself.)

I’m in love with Icarus.

His painted Ivory wings

With feathers gilded in gold.

His father loved him,

Supported him,

Enabled him to fly.

Icarus’ wings

Were made from

Clouds and sunrays.

Maybe I don’t love him

Maybe I want to be him,

Even as he fell from high above.

Maybe I want to know

What it’s like to soar

High above the world.

Maybe I want to know

What it’s like to succeed,

To be praised and adored.

Maybe I also want to know

What it’s like to fall,

To embrace terminal velocity.

To see my feathers molt

And drift past me

As melted wax scorches my skin.

To close my eyes and breath,

Knowing that the ocean will catch me,

To know that I tried.

I want to be him

Because I can’t fly myself;

Because I can’t try.

Because I’m scared.

I’m not scared of the fall,

But of the ascent,

Of the climax.

It’s not because it’s difficult,

I’ve survived difficult.

I’ve climbed over hardships.

Chains circle and confine me

To the Earth’s crust,

Never to allow me to even jump.

Even Helios,

The imprisoned god of the sun,

Looks at me with pity.

Why am I so scared of success?

Am I worried that people

Will only see the lie of myself?

I am no instrument.

I am not a lyre for

Apollo to strum.

Yet I feel like a falsehood

Whenever I accomplish,

What if I’m not what I should be?

What if I’m faking talent?

I’ve always been decent

At this and that.

I’ve never failed spectacularly.

I am a simple

Jack of all trades

Master of none.

Part of me is terrified

Of the spotlight,

Of the recognition.

Part of me yearns,

To be a role model

To be admired.

Many have said,

“I’d rather be a Jack of all trades

Master on none,

Than someone who’s only

A master of one.”

The thing is

I’d rather be a “master of one,”

Than to be seen by no one.

Maybe that’s how Icarus felt

As he rose into the sky

And greeted the scorching sun.

Maybe he knew he would fall,

Perhaps he only thought

He could get right back up.

I wish I had that confidence,

Then I could accomplish more,

Give more to the world.

Even Icarus gave a myth,

An immortal legend that tells people

To not take things for granted.

I wish I was Icarus

So that I could fly and fall,

So that I can be a myth.

After all,

Who am I to say

That Icarus didn’t see his descent…

As beautiful?

A sign to get back up,

To try again

To only get better.

#poetry #original poem #original poetry #poem #original writing #sad poetry #original work #Icarus #greek mythology

[masqueradepoetry]

do you think insight can be gained about an author from the stories they write?

no. authors are like squids and can only be understood through spirited but ultimately futile combat

[masqueradepoetry]

I’m so sorry but in the nicest way possible do yall actually read books or just read words??? Cause I’ve been seeing that trend of people not understanding how “snarled” and “eyes darkened” and “eyes softened” etc. was used in a book and like…

Genuinely, do yall just not have imagination?? Or not understand figurative language??? Also eyes do literally darken and soften have you not lived a life??? How do you read with no imagination? Is this how you get through so many books in one month - you simply don’t take the time the understand the words as they are read?

[masqueradepoetry]

i think the reason why the assassination of Julius Caesar is one of the funniest political assassinations is for this very simple reason:

1 guy stabs 1 guy: not funny. that's murder.

2 guys stab 1 guy: even less funny. that's two against one.

60 guys stab 1 guy: uproariously funny. why do you need so many guys.

[masqueradepoetry]

#my kind of tags

[masqueradepoetry]

Literally cannot emphasize enough that my #1 writing advice is to stop being afraid. Stop being afraid of sounding too cringe, or too stupid, or too horrifying, or too horny, or too weird, or too much, or too little, or too you. You need to put your entire pussy into your art. Sure, it won't be to everyone's tastes, but if you keep yourself to the blandest tamest safest roads possible you will be of no one's tastes, not even yours.

[masqueradepoetry]

nothin' quite like how a dog loves

let dead dogs lie - silas denver melvin // red dog - elizabeth frink // how to be a dog - andrew kane // domestication syndrome - dhole b // no origin found // for your own good - leah horlick // pleasure - beth cavener // it will come back - hozier // i am a dog. i have blood all over my teeth. - sciencedfiction // same poem as directly previous

[masqueradepoetry]

I turn to Ares.

Thanks to Tyler Miles Lockett who allowed me to draw inspiration from his ARES piece for page 2! Look at his etsy page it's SICK

⚔️ If you want to read some queer retelling of arturian legends have a look at my webtoon

[masqueradepoetry]

Valhalla

(Warning! I didn't really know what I was talking about when I wrote this, but anyways, have fun reading)

Time is said to heal all wounds. But does it heal the would it created?

Time is something made, crafted even, to make life linear. To give construct.

Yet the clock on the wall doesn't show the ruins of might kingdoms or abandoned buildings.

The clock just shows fragments of time repeated over and over. We're the ones that give it meaning.

So no. The clock doesn't show when religion became legend and legend was warped to grand myth.

Too many legends of Valhalla or Icarus. Odin or Zeus are just more stories no more.

But Valhalla is as grand as any heaven destined for all who fight battle after battle to protect fighting is a Norse way of life.

Maybe you find that strange. Maybe you see violence as Some unnecessary or frightening and maybe to you, that's true because to make it to Valhalla you must die in battle. Die with honour.

Today that might seem close to impossible to accomplish but each day is now a battle a battle to improve a battle to be seen.

We no longer only grow our muscle We grow our mind. We build and grow as a people.

It's a fight to stay alive to not just survive but to live to our fullest extent.

We fight to be more than our appearance. More than any myth or legend. We fight for our place in history, and we fight for the peace that requires no fighting.

Humans are strange creatures because we always find a way to fight. Fighting is human nature and fighting for what you believe to be right must be worthy of Valhalla.

#poetry #original poem #original poetry #poem #original writing #original work

[masqueradepoetry]

Dolonia

(Dolonia is a real word it means, a state of unease prompted by people who seem to like you too much. So this is based on that)

You are in my web Full of smoke and laced with mirrors.

You look at my mask and find it beautiful, but you cannot see the cracks that hide behind it.

I lead you on, I let you believe That I am good but lies were never built to least forever.

I tread on a tightrope as if it is concrete and I am very balenced.

My mask is getting weaker its clasps have weakened. and I fear the fallout of when it slips.

I wonder if the skies will weep when I slip off, or when my mask shatters.

They didn't. Not a tear was shed as I fall to my knees exposed for all to see,

Why are you still here? You don't actually like me. I am not someone who deserves affection or attention or good things in general.

You must still see this mask my flaws aren't pretty my scars aren't attractive. You must still think that I am whole.

#poetry #original poem #original poetry #poem #original writing #sad poetry #original work

[masqueradepoetry]

Let Me Be Your Mirror

(This turned out way more sexual then intended, but that might be because I see intimacy a little different? Idk, have fun reading though)

Let me be your mirror, My Dear. Let me be the one you look to in order to see yourself in your most true and honest form.

I need to see every piece of you, so I can show it back in complete reflection. Show me your beauty and happiness, The clothes you wear for everyone else.

Let me show you what you look good in, Let me be your redemption from nightmare. I can be the mirror you look to for truth, Even if it leaves me shattered, My Love.

Show me everything. Show me your naked pain. Show me what you hide from the world. Show me your raw and bare soul.

Strip off every mask if you will, Allow me to be your mirror. Allow me to trace every line on you, Every scar, crevice, and dimple.

In return I will bare myself back, A reflection to your sacrifice of self. Let me be your beginning, And I will let you be my end.

Let us two dance, unclothed and vulnerable. Let us give and let us take. Let us be the truest form of human, Only where we are each other's mirrors.

When the glass shatters we are complete. We are one and we are real. We see the flaws in each others being, But we don't care about being seen.

Let us reintroduce your lust in spirit Let us return to our thirst of being. Let us be hungry in our existence. We are each other's yearning for life.

#I genuinely didn't see this as sexual until I showed it to someone else. #poetry #original poem #original poetry #poem #original writing #love poem #asexual #I guess?

[masqueradepoetry]

"Draw for yourself" is such bullshit.

Do actors act for themselves ?? No, they act for the applause. The validation. The encouragement. The feeling that they're doing a good job. The thrill of performing to people.

So why do artists get shoved in the box of not deserving validation ??

"Draw for yourself" is a terrible excuse. "Draw for yourself" indicates unwillingness to support an artist. "Draw for yourself" because I, saying this to an artist, am too lazy to boost their creations.

"Be okay creating for nothing". No. Entire capitalistic systems are beginning to collapse because people don't like doing shit for no reason. It's not even like anyone's demanding money ; just a pat on the head & a reblog here & there.

"Draw for yourself".

Why ??

Why not, instead ; "show your true colors, & we will appreciate them".

[masqueradepoetry]

a poem about meeting grief and mistaking her for god

[masqueradepoetry]

aren't you God?

hey bestie how many asks do you get per day?

bout 25 to 50 nowadays. If I rile you guys up though it goes into the 99+ category then it's all up to God