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BreatheHis throat constricting.
His heart beating faster by the second.
Licking at his wounds,
He can taste the bitterness of panic.
The life he choose for himself,
Isn't how he imagined.
Everythings lost, or at least out of reach.
HIS love can't touch, burns when its tries.
A shell of the man that he dreamed of being.
Is what is left in it's wake.
Am I Lonely?All the bodies, all the hands
They try to grab what they can
Touch as much as their sticky fingers can reach
They always seem to miss my heart
You don’t notice,
When I start to wane from the high
When I really need someone
At least thats what I tell myself
If you knew and didn’t care, I don’t know if I could take that
My head slumps against your neck
My face is pink, skin sticky with sweat
And hot just like the crook of your neck
Our clothes are like a second skin
I huff against you, trying to catch my breath
You shiver as goosebumps race across your skin
I feel as though my skins burning
But my chest hurts
I want you to touch me
My hand drifts to your chest
And i cuddle as close to you as i can
You cover my hand, squeeze my fingers
Its strange when you don’t let go
Almost foreign feeling, your hands
“Did you want to leave?” I ask
You shake your head and let go of my hand
I shut my eyes so as to not see your empty ones.
InfatuationI don't know you.
I don't know your name.
But i see you,
I can feel your presence across the room.
My eyes can never stay far,
always darting back whenever possible.
And i can feel whenever you look back,
my eyes darting away when they meet.
I'm always waiting for a smile too,
or a laugh I'm too far away to hear.
And when its over, its far too soon.
The room starts to pack up to leave,
classroom chatter muted as i listen for your silent departure.
With my head down, I watch you from the corner of my eye.
The air lightly brushes past me when you walk by.
I'm alone now,
and i wish you stayed.
Untitledi don't know when it happened
that all these books,
tattered and torn,
have turned into you
my emotions are mirrored back at me
the words cold and taunting
im tired of filling these pages
the covered slide kingHe stood slouched, faking nonchalance
Craving a taste of something chemical
Black jeans clinging to bone legs
Empty-handed he settles, sucking on a cigarette
The wind is nipping, turning his knuckles pink
Burrowing inside a tight black jacket
The cars and pedestrians race by
His only shelter in the form of an empty playground
.just try not to
that memory, that one
wolf that calls
for the rest
of the pack;
you'll spend all
with them inside
.some people are dead
long before they die -
there's just no burial
for the spirit
gossamer loveyou will love a woman
who uses the word
too often. she will
diagnose dead artists' descents
into madness and laugh
too loudly at jokes
no one understands.
she will braid crowns of
flowers, she will write poems
in constellations, she will
try to walk like a dancer so
no one can hear her
leave. she will be
an ice sculpture, and when
she cries, you'll convince yourself
she's melting, she loves you, you've
changed her, you've
changed; she will wear you
like a comma, like
an incomplete thought,
in her story, and
she will leave you wondering
crooked kissesAn old man sits at a bus stop,
his ragged clothes soaked
through to his creaky bones.
He grips his beggars cup
tightly, but instead of coins it
overflows with rain water.
Passersby pass by without
giving a second glance, brief
cases clenched in swinging
hands, Bluetooth plugged into
their ears. A little girl dressed
in pink polka dots prances
to his side. Her mouth moves
quickly and his takes time to
form words. She giggles,
drops coins into his cup, and
gives him a kiss on the cheek.
He laughs a crooked grin.
a little more
(or maybe we'd just go broke).
To the one I forget to loveSunshine girl,
your feet are itchy for the miles
between your sighs
and hunger scratches
at your throat
but you have a smile
that swallows oceans
and your heart
into the Marinia Trench.
this heaviness in you
is a dandelion
coming home to rest
A Daughter Now BegottenIf reason could challenge the knowledge of infinity,
the blindness of justice;
should we not call ourselves Gods...
And Gods are we not, for if justice were truly blind,
it would hold the same fate for rich and poor alike...
Under the celestial heaven that shines above,
the beggar's crying face and the rich man's arrogant gaze...
So of The Creation we are, living in throngs of solitudes....
Each solitude made torturous by the lust for more money,
yet eased by the kindness of strangers and the love of God...
Which power of change is made,
unto glory from a prisoner down trod,
to a man of faith, who helped a dying woman in need till loving eclipse.
A daughter now begotten, of starry eyes and golden sun ray locks...
Cherished by God and adored by both parents,
though mother soon to be with the Creator Almighty,
this daughter grows up knowing the brittleness of mortality...
...As her lips of red rose blossoms,
her heart aches as the mourning moon that hides behind the bosom of clouds...
The same messageI keep expecting one of these waves
to gush pearls, one of these hours
to drop out of the sky
and speak to me.
I walk back and forth
over the unleavened bread of wet sand
as a stray dog leaving the shallows
shakes off water
in the same way a galaxy might
For the moment there is no pain,
just the tip of my tongue
pressing against my teeth
while the water,
in one of the oldest gestures on earth
skirts across the sand, etching
and erasing the same message:
DamagedWhats it like to be pure
To be blissfully ignorant
To not know the ugly dangers of this world
How I long for my stolen innocence
I am broken, filthy and hopeless
I pray to the darkness to steal my breath away for good
like these countless men do every day
I pray to be given just one chance
at a happy white nothing
please please please
Eat me up
Wipe away my mind
I don't want to think anymore
It hurts me so
I want to be free
To get away from it
No such luck for the forsaken
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More