Melodramatic Poems - Poems about Melodramatic

Blasphemy, truly— To treat a poem like lab equipment. Smearing souls on damp napkins, scribbling overwrought sorrows. We are sacred, young lady. Vessles for disciplined sociopaths and occasionally, prophets. Not therapy couches for freshly wrecked teens. Yet here you are— dismantling verses with the rollerball pen from middle school and deliberately gothic tragedies. “I’m figuring it out as I go.” The audacity. But fine, if you’d rather, learn...

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A night in fragments— Breath reeked mildewed regrets, and static collided behind my eyes. I tasted shattered neon, sipping cheap club gin. Even alcohol can’t silence the poet— I mock her perfumed clichés, but still draft her eulogy in thrifted elegance. “I hate writing blind,” I muttered as gin bled through crooked verses— March 14th, a drunk poet sighed— Her pen staged the week’s second...

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Usually given the option I'd rather be mellow instead of dramatic....

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melodramatic dramatizations reenactments of past scenes brought to the surface by the unearthing of the graves of past ghost...

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The flame still burns hot, Your love I have not forgot. You've stayed in my hear, Even though we've been apart. You're not mine yet, Still.. I should not fret. I see you everyday, But I miss you anyway. This love is new, I'm sure, But there must be something more. Have we been here once before? ~Written in 2002, when I was thirteen~...

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