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the letter of our life Sincerly,
I've started at the end; that's where we began. This is all backwards. It's what we are. It's not fair to me, that you are stronger when we both share the same pride. If opposites attract, we wouldn't know. Differences are many, similarities abundant. We're both made of ice, but together...somehow...we melt. As our forces oppose each other-youawayfromme-meawayfromyou-this time we don't go. There's a reaction and we both end up alone. Did you want that? I didn't. I'm sorry for the damage I've done. I don't want to admit my faults but I guess I just did. Perhaps we can never be.
1.Does a person need a reason?
She gropes for a foothold
(someone to hold her)
and echoes of her troubles
shake her insides.
Superhuman hero hath no fear.
Carry her shattered remains
to the catacombs
(safety buried deep)
Naked soul, she's up for grabs.
Tell me what makes you tick-take-talk.
"Listen to the birds. Soon it will flood
your emptiness. Your impurities can't
win me over"
She's losing it, losing this,
"Edgar Allen Poe killed me in a
wine cellar last spring."
She hates you, they hate her.
Indifferences and identity
can't define character;
just a drivers license.
augments her gash.
Bleed bleed bleed-
bits and pieces of my words.
mold them to your desire;
this is what they mean to
tell me that
i love you
in a way only i understand.
do i really?
i love the word
for it speaks of my mind
scattered and clattered
by his musical
ricochetet off the walls.
he's far less (yet very close)
tell me again why you
i love you,
i love you,
the moon and the
stars are no surprise.
i've fallen right here.
leave me deadDon't touch me.
You're the best and the worst.
I can't finish my thoughts;
you abduct them.
Weave your fingers through mine,
maybe I will like this.
please just let me go...
let me go!
Don't touch me.
I swear it, I will.
You gave me a taste of what
I fear and used to dream.
Congratulations, lets hear some applause.
You make me sick.
please just let me go...
let me go!
Don't touch me.
I'd rather be alone.
Hannah's SongLost in the depth of his resplendent eyes, blue and bold in the pale moonlight. A fine smile kidnaps her breath; he spend his day with someone else.
Honey coated melody of his voice...radiate through her secret heart. He does not grasp her actuality nor abounding love for his distant soul.
JoyYou fear reprimand,
love feels so far away.
That blade leads you astray.
Your life is not unplanned.
Don't refrain from tears.
Have faith; you're not alone.
Scars and lies...heart turning to stone.
Do not give into fear.
You said it's art...
the result of a mistake,
and happiness is fake.
This breaks my heart.
Traitor of My HeartCrippled hearts.
Complications led to empathy;
admiration declared from the beginning.
Insecurity held me back-
consisting words of refrainment.
Potent pursuit to make me fall.
Factual I will be.
Opposite occurence of my life...
despite, my affections climb.
Uncertainty screams in my conscience.
Flattery was birthed in deception.
Affirmation is a promised death,
abrupt came betrayel of trust.
Adaptation of a dreaded loss;
just my luck.
Silver tongue, slippery words, tumble downhill.
Faith like shattered glass,
puppy lost in the rain,
begger with only a coin.
Life like a reciprical.
Well pondered apology.
Too late for the return.
Forgiven; but unbelieveable.
Struggle to regain confidence.
I won't take the journey
of a simply unworthy cause.
ExpressionYou've finally reached me.
I finally trust you.
I hope I don't overstep,
when I speak.
The depth of my feelings
may come as a shock
You're my best friend
but there's something more.
Moments spent with you,
I'll treasure forever.
Are you listening?
Without you, where would I be?
My intentions are honorable,
we have our boundaries.
I don't mean to confuse
yet I'm not sure if this is right...
Perhaps my feelings
are different from fact
Can emotions control truth?
You're always on my mind
Patience is a virtue-a fruit
Love is complex
Far too many for words
Lightening strikes so fast
Is that why I've
missed so much?
When you find your wings,
and learn to fly...
may I come along?
TransformationOut stepping my shelter, following His footsteps
An act of faith with a roar of intimidation
My enemy hates, he attempts destruction
Darts, arrows, piercing blades
Wallowing in defeat, I see no way out
The attack prevails, I dive toward the floor
"God please, please! My knees are bruised,
My tears are gone, can't you help me?"
Beyond the silence and the fears, God speaks
His voice is like honey and sweet to my ears
His words are a shelter, obliterating fears
My heart absorbs His strength and might
Spoken are the words of triumphant victory
Uplifted hands tremble in awe
Rising upon weak knees, rejoicing while weeping.
God has saved me!
Comprehending my purpose, I progress
Marching alongside the lifter of my head
Declaring His name through every word said
Pursuing Him into obscurity
Trust presents a vivid light
Could it be possible for God to fail?
He has not, nor will he ever
He is God!
Flesh reaches it's closure, God has taken charge
Promised victory has now come, outreach increased
Change this lifeHiding in the shadows
Resisting in secrecy
Trying to find a way
To change this life of misery
The future is unknown
The past is to forget
The present is dull and boring
Is this what life has to offer?
I want to change
And I keep trying
Only to fail miserabily
Every single time
eight ways you've made me small1. I wish
this was for you.
2. my journal pages - the
brown one with all our monologues -
were jarred with hollow vows of
last poems of
letting you slip into a coma
of bad memories, watching you
fall to your death off
a cascading cliff of disease
and dis ease.
it was never
easy for me
3. there's a reason I ask
whether you're grey
(dark white, elusively black, in between)
or blue (behind the clouds, under wave-foam,
whateverthefuck runs through the back of my
palms); I'd rather have
than the arms
that once held you half-
heartedly. you had always been
my harmony and I
would have killed
to have been yours.
4. it could never have been just me, the way
it could never have been just
5. disasters are not beautiful,
but how is it that you
managed to make my inner linings
converge into bows
and explode into wings the very
night you decided to rebuild your walls
to a lower height?
6. I wish
on bradbury and table dancingYou are not a wordsmith
whatever you might like to think. ('Smith'
indicates precision and coldness and fire:
words are softer than that unless you mold them strong.)
It's a difficult road to follow, and not many
make it past the fork. Choose a path,
Janus says, whirligig keys spinning on his shoulders:
I am a wordworker, with my tools too crude, forming
rough-edged carvings painted with pretty imagery.
Notebooks scattered across the landscape
of a child's room, to be stumbled across,
read, red-penned, in the thick and choking breath of night.
When the bough breaks
a hanged man laughs. He carries typewriters
in his pockets, and cigarettes in the soles of his shoes.
I will never be a word mistress,
whoring myself to the speech of people I do not know and will never know me.
The oven is set to Fahrenheit 452, but the words were already aflame
before they ever took shape under your tongue.
You love everything they've ever written, and carry
unabashed loathing for every syllabl
Whenever I hurt myselfI have a feeling
Someone is watching
So I look around
But there's no one to be found
ExpirationWith you I always feel like I’m
to break in the wrong size of shoes.
Sometimes I sit and stew
over how you’re seventeen and
you think I’m a princess
the trapped-in-a-tower kind
and how you wear suits and talk about politics
and think you know the world.
My throat interrupts with an affronted gurgling sound
sometimes when I think about you,
you deal out advice where it just isn’t called for
you quote science-fiction to justify war
and you’re seventeen years old and you think I’m a princess
and you just have no blooming idea.
Darling, one of these days I will tell you my mind
But until then we’ll never fit
I’m afraid –
that even after that day
you’ll still be trimmed hedges and
when i stimulated the prayers of rib-beat
when i licked the temple of my teeth,
speed pushed my fingers shaped like confessionals
clasped holy, carved my throat to fixing-
lover; i did this for the anthem of your eyes,
the feel of strangled feet crushing the fame of stars
for the glow of streetlight worship, for the moons
of your crooning throat, for the halls of your arms,
the strayed revels of your arms,
lover: you manufactured a god out of the drugs i used
and had me addicted to the divine, to the dignity of music
you pressed in my direction: just what i am, hallelujah,
marijuana, day and night-
lover, i fell in love with your culture
that preached the real definition of dusked kneecaps,
the plea of closeted throats, the whisper of bless,
unlearning how to say please god in borrowed tongue,
i fell in love with your attention, with nervous grace
lover. i levied the rubble of my sins
Even The City KnowsIs it at all easy?
Being by yourself, I mean.
Sitting in a car, on a train, on a bus--wherever you might be now, isn't it hard to be a drifter?
There are no men with newspapers, no women with strollers, no love-crazy teenagers, no annoying toddlers, no anybody.
You stare out the window, like there are people out there, calling your name. The trees are out there, and they've lost all their leaves, all their buds--they've lost everything, just like you.
The sky is out there, and it's gray and colorless, just like you.
The stars are out there, and they're so blown-out-of-proportion, and they're just like you, too.
But the trees, the skies, the stars, they're used to being left alone.
You lack the ebullience of your drink, but it, too, is fading.
Frost has gathered on windows, on the ground, on rivers, everywhere.
Frost comes and goes, just like you, when you finally melt away.
The city draws to darkness and quiet--it disappears, just like you.
But, even frost
Death to the LoversHe screamed,
He tore his hair from his scalp;
But it didn't bring her back.
The beautiful girl
With the gorgeous smile
And witty remarks
Would always lay six feet under.
She would lie in her death bed,
Her arms folded on her chest
And her face full of peace
Known only to the dead.
He would be the first to rot.
First his health,
Then his sanity.
She would forever feed on his emotions
Like a pretty little leech,
Sapping his well being
And happiness from her underground world.
And he would let her,
For a fool like him
Who allowed himself to love,
What is it really?An apple can't fall too close to the tree.
Love is a hurricane.
A spoonful of sugar makes your symptoms worse.
Laughter could be a cure.
Actions really do scream louder than words.
You don't get all of what you see,
and if you can't feel it, perhaps it does exist.
Building up walls keep people from climbing over.
Just because you need them doesn't give you an open door.
No one will chase after you even if you run away.
Equal and opposite is never the reaction.
Forgivness is easily forgotten.
I Belong To You I hate rain. Not really, I love it. Just not when the most beautiful, perfect, wonderful, perfect, comfortable, waterproof, perfect coat in existence has been savagely butchered by my so-called friend’s Dalmatian. Every slap of rain on my naked arms is a stinging reminder of the irreparable hole in my wardrobe.
Some people might try to fill the void with lesser coats but I can’t bring myself to betray Valentino, even after her death. Instead my slippery arms grapple with each other in wet shock as I stumble to the op shop, clinging to one last thread of hope. I know in my deadened heart that I’ll never have another coat like her. Yet here I am, blundering through the elements in my vain search for the acceptance and warmth I found wrapped in Valentino’s woollen sleeves.
Thud. My body slams into the door, making the ‘open’ sign quiver and the bells tinkle in offense. I fight for entry, the door’s assault doubled by the stale funk of
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More