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ButcherMeat before your knife
Skinned and waiting to be sliced
Hoping you will cut me down instead of up.
With strokes both careless and precise
The blood - the blood that stains your knife
I would have given you my life,
But you have taken more.
Rosemary For RemembranceHer hands in the water
She re members the freck le s o n his
As th e wo r d s d ra g h e r
Get t he e to a n u n n er y
G E T T H E E T O A N U N N E R Y
BelovedI should be stronger for you Dear,
Not dieing in the darkness here,
Rotting from the inside out
Devoured by my fear.
I'de be a shining star for you,
A broken satellite
Burning off her energy
To guide you through the night,
But all I do is gaurd the gate
And keep its doors thrown wide
In hopes you will return to me
While darkness slips inside.
And how it storms the parapets
And shakes my every stone
and echoes through my hallways,
Child, you are so alone.
You are waiting for a ghost
that will not come again.
Nothing is outside your walls,
And Nothings coming in.
Are you a prisoner or a fool
Who stays yet trembles so,
Cloistered in these crubling walls
Unable to let go?
For cowardice we mock you.
Upon your strength we feed,
And if you hear his cries outside
You should not pay them heed,
For they are nothing but the wind
That whistles in the still,
And if your house is empty,
Then we are here to fill.
And if your heart is heavy,
Then we can take that too.
There's lots of things
P.S.Swan feathers brushing
Pink lemonade stratosphere,
Pallid moon mirroring
A smeared staring sun,
As Fenrir snarls and stretches,
Slinking silently skyward.
I do not mind the feeling of icy water
In the morning on dry, chapped hands,
The scrubbing of bowls and pots with sand
In the pale autumn light.
These are the clean discomforts of life lived,
And sun warmed stones and star soaked nights can make amends
Say amen to the prayers that such days could last forever.
But I am answered never never again.
And there the knife sinks deep
As the past is waked from sleep,
Defiant and pounding its fists in anger
But the leaves of today leave concern from their color,
As bright with me as without they do not dignify my dolor
With pity for the memory
Of what makes one day full and one day empty.
"Fool," they say "All things must die in time,"
And so I stand stripped bare beneath the sky,
Inhaling wood smoke wafting in the wind,
And feel all Nature's life come to an end.
The Boy Who Wouldnt EatIf you can flutter
I have failed you,
for you were not forged
to be so insubstantial as that
You were writ
to be an epic fable
of endings ignored,
of outlasting your body
through the sheer will
of a writers starving heart
through a broken, bowed
but bravely abiding body
that fights the soul
to comprehend Beauty.
................written in a frenzy and run-on
and exclamation points
used in rapid succession
words all blurred
so bare bones it's bloody
strung out and on display
in a frightening combination
of paragraphs and stanzas
punctuation gone mad
ellipses my new black
used and abused
then spit out
in gratuitous repetition
there is no word count here
no hearts dotting the i's
just a string of letters
done up in cursive
but not very pretty at all
Five AMPre-dawn darkness again, seething, quiet
A monster hugging the city
How heavy, how suffocating it is
The clock has run down on time for dreaming
A void between night and morning
Ready to swallow everything up
A time for old men's reflections
On love, and loss, and sorrow
Oppressive black sky, you eat everything
But the all-night diner
Where lonely old men sit
Drinking coffee at five AM
Sound PoemIthrumden, ithrumden delsum
nith mul thruss elmrissull.
Eth rut mundelliss
Curmiette dessel renrin
irme trell ithrumden.
The partyFlashing lights
Smoke all around
About to pass out
My head starts to hurt
I can't take this anymore
So without saying anything
I find the exit
And escape that place
"How can someone have fun in there?"
Coming HomeComing down the ramp I spotted you in the crowd
Your tenderloin skin always stands out
Your aura was particularly bright that day
Whirling dervish colors in the pale sun
You wore a chauffeurs cap and held a sign that said “Anyone”
I knew that I wasn’t anyone, so I walked away
“Strange days,” someone said, and I agreed
I hate crowds and old garbled memories
Arriving home, my wife and cat didn’t recognize me
I looked in the mirror and noticed that I was someone else
Still carrying my old baggage, I turned away
I should have taken your limo
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 -
~days eat days
like I eat potato chips
on a couch whose
springs have thrown out
their backs no longer able
to hold even the remote up.
it sinks between the seats like
I do every lonely saturday night
or every evening I can’t quite
make it to bed, cupped with
similar back problems,
a similar sag.
I’ve begun to
take after my furniture.
"the only unattractive curve,"
a girl once said to me with a few
desirable curves herself,
"is the one a person develops
in their back.”
we dated for a month and
she called me her
hunchback of notre dome
(it’s dame, babe.)
and I called her beautiful.
and nothing else.
but somehow her leaving did nothing
to straighten my bent back but
only managed to deepen
my parenthetical stance on
those who love me
(they don’t exist).
things i cannot doi cannot sleep
and most certainly stay asleep-
with the black edged creatures
trembling at the corners
to trap me in tendrils of nightmare,
i shift too emptily for peace.
i cannot brave an appointment
i need hands to hold
this broken ship
caught in the waves with no crests.
i forget about the things i love,
but things i hate include
how i am haunted everyday
how i cannot seem
to call him by name
or directly address him-
there is no "you"
in my words,
only fear and flashbacks.
i cannot leave an unfinished crossword out of my thoughts
just like a relationship that had tapered off;
i cannot let go of things that have melted into my grip;
i cannot break a heart
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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