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decayannapii, that's enough.
if you can't breathe
its because you smell of formaldehyde;
preservation and death-worship.
the memories you hold remain beautiful
embalmed stars, always photogenic,
picture-perfect, and precise-cold
in the fading warmth of your fist
those stones are dead, cold, weight
in the palm of your hand,
filling the emptiness with emptiness
like broken promises of a better tomorrow.
you've held on too long. let go.
untitledif your heart is a pocket-coin,
having too little value
to be of note when it falls
into the wet gutter
not quite thrown away,
fished out of the dirty puddles
to make a penny-for-a-wish,
your stars are dead.
and the light that cradles
your daydreams, your wishes,
and the hopes too impossible to even
is a memory; an afterimage
of something that has not been
for a thousand years.
love is all i needcinderella rubs her own pretty face
with fireplace ashes and cellar cobwebs
a widow's humble shack and working pride
aren't enough for our damsel in distress.
why work for a hard day's satisfaction
when prince charming's slipper and kiss
are an easy happily ever after?
untitledon their last night
i'm sure dido was laughing.
she was teasing smiles from aeneas.
you see, he had such a handsome face
when he had no words for his lover,
i wanna be friends with dido
i could tell her that i understand
what it's like to miss a pretty face
or for your only comfort in this world
to be a pocket full of withered iris flowers.
how will you remember mesomeday
when i'm too old to be
xxxx, young and immortal,
i will die.
when i tremble before you
its because i can feel
his hands, pressing down
between my collarbones, at the hollow
where my frightened heart
bitch, i'm not fuckin' scared of you.
but i'm scared of dying
before i can forgive you.
because that old cliche; life is short
is true. i don't have the time to hate you
when you're not a regret.
merely: a friend to be forgiven
i'm sorrymy dearest. i can force my heart
into the empty cup of your hands
but i can't fill your loneliness.
there will always be more missing
than i can give you.
because everything bleeds
through your shaking fingers and
i can't hold our world together
when you've wretched your hands
out of mine.
my dearest. i am so fucking sorry.
i didn't want to be another memory
written in cursive on the scars of
your beautiful heart.
but i am. that's all i am.
and that's all i'll ever be.
i'll throw it all awayhe sat me down within myself
and when he walked away, left
his kerosene-tinted footprints
irreversibly permeating my world.
he left behind his love. an apology.
and burned the bridge back.
and i, the poor fool, never learned
to keep my hand off the stove or
my heart to myself
reach after him
and feed the flames, his path back,
with anything. everything.
i'm the one that's not good enoughwe all have skeletons in the closet
and i keep my dirty bones etched
with a lovely list of my flaws.
i keep my self-mutiliation coy and
kissing the worn surface of ribs
and brushing the warm underside
within the flesh and trembling heart
i have laid at your feet; are flaws.
the law of diminishing marginal utilitythe law of diminishing marginal utility
states that you will cherish the previous
more than the forthcoming. that i'll grant
a little less satisfaction with each time
that we are together.
and each of your (precious) next heartbeats
will have a little less reason to race when
my voice and body become as familiar to you
as your own.
studies have proven that passion is nothing
but the love's easily corrected disturbance,
at adaptation's whim.
but fuck laws. i want my love always sloppy
and reckless; untouched by the passing time.
make me endure it.
keep my body falling hard and often for you
So I heard you wanted to make them like you?So I heard you had someone in mind
Perhaps something more intimate and
So I heard you wanted him to like you,
And I heard you didn't know what to do.
And so I heard you wanted a friend.
Or maybe just one..
And I heard from you, that you want me to like you too
but how, you ask?
you don't need to try.
I mean I heard you wanted to make them like
Wondering how getting the attention of that special someone works?
or perhaps just the friend, you know.
I'm no somebody and preferably just a nobody but
I heard you wanted someone to like you.
So be You.
BeautyI'd rather wear flowers in my hair,
forming a delicate chain
Than diamonds around my neck,
covering my tender blue veins
For with every precious petal
and every lucent leaf
I'm a living lesson
teaching beauty can not be bought
But rather it grows and flourishes
with every living thought
Expensive LiesI sit and stare at the toilet bowl.
A guy I know is bulimic.
When we compliment him
I see the twist of agony in his eyes
as his brain reprograms it
to sound like an expensive lie
that costs him another tear
in his tattered dignity.
Friends hurry to him,
to reassure him, to love him.
They tell him how beautiful he is.
We didn't know him before,
but he's definitely not fat now.
We whisper things in concern like;
body dysmorphic disorder.
'I know you'll never believe me
but you are so gorgeous -
not just on the inside.' Not just.
And they're right, I join in,
because they are right to say it
because it happens to be true -
he is stunning. Not just on the outside.
And we want him to see himself
the way we see him, beautiful.
And I join in because
I've felt that strangle of pain
in my stomach, bowels and belly,
when someone used to tell me lies.
So I know how he feels.
Only, he is beautiful on the outside
and I'm not.
He's not seeing reality in the mirror
and I am.
And people rush to correc
Fearing MeI'm not afraid to cry
and I do it
a lot more than you would guess.
It isn't always sadness,
I just feel like I need to,
feel everything so strongly
that it's the only way
to let go for a moment
because if I hold on for too long,
if my grip gets too tight
I'll break myself,
I will break you like glass
and we will both
I am a good guy
who hasn't yet found a way
to show it,
I am a good guy
who still identifies with the villains,
hides everything important
anything to throw you
off of my trail....
and I don't know why,
but I am trying.
Maybe I think
that if you could see me,
the real me,
you wouldn't want to look anymore,
want to be anywhere near me,
and the idea
that I can't add up
to be enough for you,
to be enough for me,
is so fucking heart breaking
I can hardly fathom it.
I can't say that it doesn't hurt
because it does,
it hurts a whole hell of a lot,
I've come to depend on pain,
to befriend misery
A Kiss not Forgotten (a special tribute)Like a frost spread across valleys silent and dreary,
ever my longing lost in shimmers of shadow & wind
And days bled into years, the seas became deserts
But thoughts of thee would not perish
Thru memories untamed I staggered far and long;
upon solemn nights lit by the torch of your soul
O’ how deep I miss your fragrant cheer ..
Of warm evenings shared across Lake’s reverie,
watching horizons journey into Autumn’s dream
— wherest our hearts once bloomed a fabled sky
Those passions shared will forsake me not
Lest the Moon would bestow solace upon my ache:
I will lay marooned, haunted by thy seraphic-figure,
Or the ever fleeting caress of your gaze ...
So my soul shall yield to this mythic abyss; –
as I peer from my carriage to Nirvana
And thou away, from my arms, the Sun weeps
Unto eternity—my dear beloved, we are entwined
Forever our footprints cast in golden firmament
A kiss not forgotten in a ballet of light softly falling
I now bear the want
you're just a question marki met you so long ago
but back then our bodies were made of metal
and nowadays they’re made of the blades of
grass and dirt settling
underneath my fingernails.
my fingers are having a hard time
reaching the keys and
my organs are shaking mostly because i haven’t
eaten in two days but also
because i’m worried about the things you're doing to yourself.
we didn’t meet very long ago at all but it feels like forever ago
and you say you don’t know me
that you don’t know anyone
but baby you're turning into a skeleton and i’m peeling back my skin
to try and reach my bones, just like you.
i hope you're happy,
i’m covering the hard wood floors now
the bits and pieces splattered.
they are calling it a suicide but i’m calling it
a way to see my brain and
just how dark it has become, and honestly
i don’t want you to try and see about your’s.
i’m mourning the loss of my heart and wish you weren’t either -
Black hole BulimicThe Composition:
I birth poems — not amaranths
in graveyards — not gardens.
sows seeds of doubt
into skeleton weeds.
A farmer plucks the bones
from Apollo's hyacinth; his
I binge on broken
cracked collectors of rocks,
of pebbles kidnapped
from barren beaches:
where crooked kings
buried in books whose
pages creak to crickets
in an abandoned abyss
of an attic—caskets on
an antiquated shelf. I
choke on the dust and
twitch in recoil.
The bickering sky
A cloud coughs—
The clock's scythe hand
swivels to the beckoning
twelve. Spastic ticking—
each bleak stroke
of a midnight heart.
The sundials do not work
now. The vampires know
I kill poems—
obligation steam machineas always
grinding the cankerous
of your cognition
until the lack of compassion
leaves you unlubricated
seized frozen bound stuck
only then the machine of
your fears will burst to steam
squealing to suckle
at the genius of my
the unsung soiled hero
of middle-class ferocity
savior of the undeserving
winding slowly deftly dying
martyr to the self-justified cause
as love for summer fades.late morning-
there's the tease of
snow in the clouds,
in the air, and the trees
have finally lost their
the sunlight is damp.
alters the room
as it graces my skin,
and for once
i don't wake up right away.
instead i lay
between my memory bitten
sheets, and i think
about all the times he said
that he hated winter.
i don't remember
when i began to love it,
and i don't care.
nothing can shatter that.
xxxx-2012shut up. darling, shut up.
you can't make me okay.
even your "i love you"s
are just the final nails in my coffin.
its too late.
you've buried me in your memory
and i'll always be prematurely buried
screaming and clawing
appealing to ghosts and cemetary dirt
until even my memory quietly dies away.
you've filled the hole
wasted tears, left the flowers.
and turned away to start forgetting.
you will forget me.
you will stop loving me.
and when the tears dry
and the flowers wither away
i'll still be here, hoarse and silent.
and not worth a damn thing to you.
LithiumA single trickling rain drop
Like gossamer silk strands
Gliding along my third eye
Whispers wind's secret caress
I exhale. Lungs releasing-
Pressing translucent memories;
Fragment of a fragment
As water kisses rose petal,
Drifting down stream's curtain
Pretty little curtain.
Where the wizard lies.
He smiles up at me
With his monocled brow-
Sipping on warm tea
And fingers quacking casually
To the rhythm of his notes
This is a safe-zone. Free-zone.
Innocent eyes sparkle,
Imploring it to be true. I breathe.
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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