This Body is BrokenThis body is broken.
Unfeeling, it does not respond.
It lays there,
Coldness emits from its hazel orbs,
All drive, gone.
Its flesh is tired.
Its flesh is dead.
The loving touch, cannot be felt.
The warmth, cannot be shared.
The excitement is not there...
It does not speak.
Moans and cries tremble past its lips,
Barely audible through gridded teeth.
Ripping from within,
The tears become deeper.
The fears, reality.
It waits for pain to subside,
And the paralysis to take over once more.
It engulfs the being like a wave.
Trickling down the tops of its toes,
to be a floristcut me.
press your metal into my spine.
thread it gracefully
along my insides and out
the nape of my neck.
twirl it gently (don't
hurt yourself) around my skin.
boast proudly, how you shaped me,
how you spun me in your arms,
how you affixed my gaze upright...
how you made me look so perfect
while i slowly turned and died.
i've ripped my lips from every burned thought.iii. my feet and hands
are always cold,
will always be cold.
i. i ransack memories
i thought i'd burned them all,
turned them all to ash,
and placed them in tupperware containers -
each one neatly labeled with dates
and numbered with catastrophes.
i shoved them all in freezers -
saving them for lovelier days,
thinking i've never deserved
anything better than freezer burn
to sustain me.
iv. my limbs are blue and reek of stale air.
my nose and tongue are covered in frost
and my lips are painted
v. i will trace new memories,
on your skin with my lips,
and pray i won't need
to burn those too.
she reminds me of myselfI'm sorry, Alice, the looking glass lies.
Flowers don't sing
and hares don't keep time.
Your world of wonder
is all make believe -
Why else would your reflection
giggle and wink?
You aren't a child any longer, my dear.
Have a matchstick for your dreams
and a hammer for that mirror.
Our hands may be calloused
as we coddle our pasts
but delusions are enemies
and wistful muses pass.
I will wait for you, darling,
I will write for you, lass.
I will capture life's beauty
and contain it in glass.
Though, the singing that lingers
is the voice of my own.
The fragrant flowers are dying
even while their seed is sown.
Taste the Crush of a Sunset's Dying BlushShe collected butterflies alive as cherished memories.
A whisperer of the delicate things, velvet-winged creatures hadn’t a chance against her gentle murmur. Nothing forced, she let them perch upon a lazily held finger as she flipped page after page detailing each down to wandering antenna.
“You, darlin’, are a white-dotted Cattleheart,” she breathed its name soft as spells. Thin, black legs pawed at her skin in recognition.
“I have seen you before, lovely?” Dark shadows, outlined by red and white polka-dot seams, fell and rose like a sweet, slow nod.
She smiled as it fluttered off her finger to a nearby bed of white flowers landing – a black cloak draped over a mound of snow.
Returning her attention to the butterfly book, her eyes lit bright.
“Hey there Pipevine Swallowtail.” She sighed to her newest guest, “are you carrying my dreams? did you swallow my heartwishes last night? Wait…” She
I wish my eyes were a mirrorI wish my eyes were a mirror
so you can see you as i see
your heart was crushed by an image
built by a cruel society
I wish my eyes were a mirror
So that i may help you to believe
that what they say is lies
and show you how you are to me
I wish my Heart could speak clearer
to help you understand
that you are the only person
that can fill my empty hands
I wish i could be your savior
Wipe away your fresh tears
i would gently say i love you
as i hold you through the years
And i wish my soul was a healer
to undo all of the pain
Make all their hostile efforts
finally end in vain
But to you im just a stranger
or "Just friends a
The only man that tries.So i thought id write a poem
for everyone who feels alone
for everyone who feels unloved
for anyone who has no hope.
And so i thought id be that guy
who can make their dreams fly
who will be the one that tries
be the one that makes them smile
And i thought id be the one
to make the pain go undone
to make the memories die young
stop them from running from the sun
Oh how i want to be that guy
who sees the tears flow out their eyes
and make the pain cease when it tries
and make them feel like its alright
but when i try to be that guy
seems that my words are despised
and that flow of love goes dry
and I would be cast away like
There's a fireI reach out
I wont let you fall
long nights, not at your side
But still i can recall
And every stupid glare
makes you think that no one cares
But stick with me
and maybe together we can achieve your dream
There's a fire in your eyes tonight
like a star a see you shining bright
you love to sing but you were born to fly
we'll make a story out of every night (x2)
Let them talk
For every word gets old
Smile back ,do what your best at
and let their insults go
And every word that scares
makes me see your true despair
have faith in me
and i will save you from those drowning tears
There's a fire in your eyes tonight
like a star a
Silent AlarmsI am the unfinished Gilgamesh and God is waiting
To speak with me,
Of Ink-line adventures that were mine,
Where ocean doesn't kiss sedimentary.
Those far away cries of times and trials
We used to play with, together, as children.
The sonata starts slowly...overture
And it'll promise you many days.
In this concerto there will be frays – oh
There will be frays.
‘So I’ll want to live and die on this day.’
Master the ways of piano and seek the gates
Leading to an island you love with the sea,
When time spaces out between rifts and plates,
Where sun-storm waves lap against orange trees.
I’ll fight colossus in
The gentlemen's clubYou flip decks of cards like they're juggling balls:thumb339158476:
Calling bluffs and raising the stakes
Bar tender ups prices of moonshine,
Your brand of magic is wasted on them.
The cigarette you pirouette by the edge of your fingers
Barely fitting between
Those slits closed off to mythical speech
So you sing and spit through microphone hits
With crimson hair spilt across your face.
Much too warm bathed under key-lime, citrus tints
So pull off your dignity
To show ligaments
Sucking on figs
And that Hobgoblin – just want it to boil
The same way they make you do, foiling
You – spoiling...this
Angelo is beaten to death outside for looking at a man
The exact way you did except you’re praised
Whereas this wing man could only raise death
..."Just us playing around" they say
Than just his spirit
AphroditeRoses shall not narrate thy holy eyes
Undone by love, stars in disguise
Bejewled fair face, only thou fit
A blossom of hope that never wilts
Bound by spell only thee I think of
Angel thou I love by the name Above
Indeed crystalline thine ethereal face
Like a trinket shaped with Lord's grace
Or the falling benevolent winter snow
Valor wings thy hast heaven aglow
Enchanting thy lips take my sight
Young and tantalized thy beloved heart
One that shudders but never falls apart
Untying my hands Angel show me light.
The Surreal SeasonArbitrary screams, have washed away in bliss
The forever unspoken words, turned into kiss'
From the uncertain lips of deceit
A chilling breeze from the exiled mist
The fiery summer has gone ashtray
Radiant winter is along its way.
An elegy for the dying stoneIn the dark shadows, I will disappear
And let the wasted time leave me a scar
Getting lost in the tranquility of time
Where you cannot find me
Neither can I.
Tears like diamond
Or the iridescent cold
Will not touch me
The departed soul
Only wishes to flee.
I will be summoned
for the critical judgment
so will be you
we shall see who was on the side
Of the Angel's.
And if it's on our fate
then we shall not fade
In the perpetual end.
The SurroundWarm flesh twitched beneath him, echoing the steady vibrations of his own skin. His breath came uneven and broken in his ears. The warmth of the spilled blood, he could see, had begun to soak the ground; the sharp scent of it filled the air as did the keening of the wind across the hills and through the trees. It came to him like the cry of a woman at her finish. He shivered from both the wind against his dampened skin and the spectral wail.
His arms felt boneless, his legs trembled and his lungs burned from exertion, but he roused himself from his stupor. His right hand still held onto his knife, the handle of it pressed firmly into his pal
stained glass windowsyou make me feel naked
your breath suffocates
your lips teases
i swallow your warmth
and mistake it for
you've become my
my fingertips reach for more
in stain-glassed windows.
He managed to focus his eyes just enough to see the person who had gripped and twisted his arms behind him. The light in his room was bright, but wavering as if a shadow passed by the window or door to his room. There were others. He could plainly see their mismatch cloth and hair twined like serpents under thick turbans. Mercenaries, then. It was all he could see. One of them was attempting to pull a bag over his head. He wrenched his arms free and pushed against the heaviness in the middle of his back and kicked at another. He bolted toward the door and stopped short. It was not sunlight which flooded his small bedroom. Flames
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