Random: Update #2


Hey readers/followers, girls/guys.

It has been a little while since my last post, but I am planning to start up again: my creative ideas are still going strong.

I would like to continue (regularly) posting about once a week:

Sunday and/or Monday night – New creative (poem) piece
Random (monthly, maybe?) night – Formal (top list, opinion) piece

I want to carry on and share new posts with my attractive, awesome, and incredible readers. I want to add a little more variety to my posts too. More top lists, new-form writing ideas and new poetry, as well.

Also, I have been updating, proofing and improving all of my old posts so check some of them out here and here. There are a bunch of them in my archive and menu.

Any suggestions, comments, critiques, ideas on my site moving forward like always, let me know. Feel free to comment, follow me on Twitter or send an e-mail to vinnylanni23@yahoo.com, if you want to keep in touch.

See you girls/guys soon with some new stuff. Check back for more!

Guitar Strings


Together, we can give voice to the voiceless,
sew a broken soul, and tell
stories in the matter of minutes.

We’re missing a heart, but we
have fingers and a voice.
Not artificially, no,
the words aren’t our own nor
will they ever be, but
strum us together
or apart
and let us
tell unwritten stories
through the melody of music

Dirty Raindrops


Drip on me your purity,
your cleanliness, and wash away
the sins, the ones I lock inside.

Take out my umbrella,
hide me under a rain coat,
and make me shutter,
drop no tear, when I cry.

No one likes being wet
when others are dry, and
no one likes dirty raindrops
when there’s nothing left to hide

Don’t Leave Me

And leave me nothing at all.

I’m fading faster and further
into the realm of non-existence
before I go, take my hand,
remind me this life isn’t as cruel
as it’s set out to be.

As I’m fading into the realm of imaginary
remember, leave me as I was:

never here,
never alive,
nothing, at all

Red Lipstick

Credit: mathilde henriks

Behind red lips
hides a new girl.

She’s beautiful,
sweet, and
she wants to be.

Red lips make her
a model, a star,
and one who
lives for the attention.

When she washes her face,
removes her makeup
and red lipstick
she cries black tears.

She refuses to look in the mirror
and face the girl she used to be

Color Me Silent


I need you
between my fingers,
within my reach.

I promise,
I won’t use you.
I’ll use you, only for me
– sorry, I lied.

What you have
is what I desire,
and I’ve gotten this far
without you here.

I’ve learned to cope
with an empty soul,
color less world,
and a meaning-less being.

What are we waiting for?

Now you’re in my grasp;
I need you to dance.

Brush me along
with you
on the table
and color me silent

My Words, My Way


I refuse to follow the rules
of most writers. I must
express my words, my way.

I don’t believe
in dramatic detail, complicated words
and forced meaning;
it takes away heart.

Words without heart
are like t’s
without crosses
and i’s
without dots.

As my words
line up here:

l e t t e r after l e t t e r

take them for what they are,
don’t over look them
for everything they are not,
and don’t force them
to be something they don’t want to.

Buried Alive


Go ahead,
judge me, act like
I never existed.

All I wanted to do
was fit in
and now I am.

I’m the leader of my horde.

Trust me, it’s better
in the after life.
We are alone here,

but we are alone, together.

Let me bite you,
sink my teeth into your skin.

Let me drain the blood
in your veins, and
quench my hunger.

For when I’m finished,
don’t resist the transformation,
embrace it.

Think of it as new life,
and another opportunity,
to walk among the living


On Thin Ice

They don’t know what it’s like standing on edge,
fighting for survival, living each day
without no one reason to go on.

It’s easy being human,
for they own the word, as they say.
But me, I’m just an enemy, hiding in mountains of snow,
fighting each day to see tomorrow’s sunrise.

On this block of ice is where I get away.
The excitement, and danger of peering into the unknown,
and venturing off on my own gives me a rush, one I often desire.
Hunters won’t find me here and neither will my cubs,

it’s what I need.

Sometime I wish that I could float down a stream,
get washed up on an island, and never come back.

Please get me away from the snow,
and into the sun.
I want to be on my own,
to feel what it’s like to be warm
on both the inside and out

All I Can Do


I wrote these words
only for you,
so do with them,
as you wish.

Take them for the literal
or the figurative
it doesn’t matter to me
as long as you promise
to read them
and know
they were written
only for you.

Crumple them up,
throw them out,
and burn them in flames
when you’re finished.
As long as they were read
and not wasted;
I know
I’ve done
all that I can do