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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
The tough gets growingI'm knee-deep in mud,
grumbling and mumbling
about what I did
to deserve this mess
And my mother glares,
"When I planted you,
I put you deep in the dirt,
not to bury you alive,
but to teach you that
when the growing gets tough,
the tough gets growing."
pick up the slack and
pick up that slack-jawed shadow of yours
dragging on wet pavement under your soles
and hurry it along, we ain't got all day here
flex your white-boned fingers and
taut knuckles and pluck the soul from
its coffin in your slick throat
the sun has better places to be than in your sky.
Falling Back into Placei wait for wisdom
the sludge tells me
to come in
awaits, just beneath the tack
of its sticky skin
and i know
that what waits there
is more patient
eternal and hungry
but the peace
is only a skin
placebo effectthey stuck some needles in his
skin and made him think that he was
plucked the feathers from her
wings and tried to make her
they changed the names of all his pills
and labeled him
tied some string around her neck
and hung her from the
(i only know what they tell me)
9 Countenances for the Curious1.
My limbs have become instruments,
but, unlike the piano of your memories,
I am still not anyone's to play.
I think I am finite,
that the limits of me are dictated
by flesh and numbers
on an inverted scale
but the dog on my lap
doesn't care what I weigh;
she wants only
to love me and be loved.
the pain that anchors you
strains your back,
the ship of your life
is hamstrung upon a reef
and you think you are watching
a dolphin at play
but siren songs deceive you.
my ship sank beneath the waters
years ago, this bubble of life
sustains me even as i drown:
there are storms in the depths
of me, and you see only
the ocean's calm.
At 7, I swallowed stories
like candy; didn't understand
that too much leaves you bloated.
At 17, I breakfasted on books
like pancakes; too caught up
to tell (some things should be special).
At 27, I feasted on fiction
like home-cooked meals; didn't know
some of it could poison you.
At 37, I hope I will be picking
at poetry; letting the flavours
of the words
a girl at the airportwhen she eats cake
she presses a napkin
to her lips with each bite--
frosting smears are impolite
murderers of good,
faraway first impressions.
when she sees someone
beautiful, she hides her face
behind a book, book shelf, closed door
like a pious man hides his eyes
when she has something
important to say among a crowd
she utters it like the bah
of a vulnerable lamb--
a fragile thing, a hesitant mantra
to be drowned and consumed
without thought or care by the sound
of louder others.
when she falls in love
she looks around
to make sure no one saw
and when someone sees
she refuses to believe
their eyes tried to catch
grow upyou say
i am weak
i have never
worked for anything
i am not sorry
i should take
the pills the doctor
i will never
know what it is to
hurt the way that you hurt,
plant me in the ground
listen to the way my nature sounds
when i turn from something black
to something luminous, proud
you turned me into a shadow, you prick
remember that? remember this?
yeah, the condom broke, you
piece of shit, at least i tried
to be careful, at least when
you cried, i kissed your
say what you want
about my judgment.
my immaturity, my general
lack of readiness for
anything. but i was good
to you, and i tried,
and i am sorry that
you hurt so much
that you can't
do it as elegantly
as i can.
you have never
learned to love
the grit: the place
where my spirit sags,
where my love
as if biology could have been any clearer,
cleaning your spit from my bedroom mirror-
i can smell your genes and
they smell fucking good to me,
but i keep telling myself,
Our destiny is determined
Reliving the past
Enduring the suffering
Visions of the future
Endeavours to come
Representing life as a whole
The Man and the Molluski don't mean to dig
but the mollusk makes me
its pulsating mass
a constant reminder
that i host its growth
our slow-moving foot
flows into itself
feeling its future up
toward dry land
up this alone of evolution
of just how quickly
pulled off onto sidestreets
or propped up in bathrooms
are forgotten (lost)
and how best intentions
into which slot
the prayers go
i don't mean to drag
but the mollusk makes me
drag it down
to stir the silt
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
Transformers: We Came in WarTransformers: We Came in War
Setting: Sometime during the Bay films
Characters: Optimus Prime
We came to this planet because ours was gone.
The quest for power consumed our home. The need for domination destroyed us. Still we live, and yet there is a piece in each of us that has been decimated forever. We will never recover what we have lost.
I look down upon this planet, and I wonder why we try.
It is evident by now that we have lost the capacity for peace. War follows in our wake. We came to retrieve the AllSpark, which has long since been lost, and we are still here. All that came of attempting to revive our planet was the relocation of the war from our planet of death to this planet of life. There is so much life on this planet. All of it we have sworn to protect. This is the promise we have made to them. But the promise would not need to have been made if we had never co
AndromedaAmongst the darkened skies
Brightened by only starlight
Field & Sea.
Gravity is only an afterthought
Hilltops become ladders into the sky while
Inferior planets stare down upon the Earth
Jealous of such simplicity yet contemplating grandeur.
Keppler only thought of science
Linear, elliptical, movement…
Mythology had no such thoughts
Neptune & Nebulas both inhabit space
Orbiting across the lonely darkness
Probably never worried about mundane things
Questioning their existence
Right now or for all eternity such as us.
Shooting stars make us joyful while
Terminator is an otherworldly spectacle
Unknown to all those hidden in their houses
Various stars await us outside
Waiting to play like we did before
Xenagogue & inviting
Youthful but ancient curiosities.
Zenith induced euphoria continues until daylight…
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