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Untitledwe are always chasing.
I'm not sure what I'd do if I caught you.
If I could "get on" like you do at 10 when
all I want is to be in bed with
a book in my hands
your head between my legs).
and while I'm being honest with myself
I know you cannot help
it. You are too sharp to be put in a display case,
(the gutter is more your place than middle-class
suburban life ever could be).
you need to dull your senses
and you do so with lines of cocaine and
various other criminal offences that
no matter what
hold a three month jail sentence.
You never thought there'd be real consequences
for that equipment you acquired and
scrapped for cash. What a crippling addiction,
you will have literally smoked yourself into a cell.
You put myself and your parents through
utter hell, just so you can
forget what it feels like to be
alive. You need to lose yourself just so you can survive,
and I know
this is all you'll ever be, and I
can't help but hope you'll change yourself so we can stop being
Losing ControlI've burned my bones
one, now I have nothing to hold me
up, I'm so finite it hurts to breathe
sometimes; but my
feelings ache with interminability
but my love is not endless, unconditional.
I cracked you open, scooped out your
sensability. I buried you beneath my fingernails,
I never take you flowers, but
I've given you ten moons.
I made myself my own deity, learned to love the
hook of my hip, and the way my mouth
clicks like an empty ammunition chamber
whenever I start to speak and then
Paper PlanesI've smoked rings around myself,
your hands tremble, and your
heart beats a tyre-screech rhythm.
struggle to breathe through my
acridity, but I can't feel
anything through your forcefield of
(open-mouth, eyes closed,
hair wrapped around
attached in all the places
your joints bend)
I don't want anything to
spark from this realisation
I know you're empty
and, I know it's not me
you're interested in.
Page breakI still love the ocean.
I am salty and gasping,
every wave is the curve of
every swell is the beat of my heart;
the giddy lungful of air after being suffocated
I cannot let go of the ocean,
I still feel it (you), there's
water in my lungs,
sand in my hair,
my skin is still stinging.
I'm still parched from the salt.
I've found myself
in shop windows, car doors
I have straight legs, straight teeth, straight-
My hair is still dripping.
skip a few years:
I will drown in my sleep
my lungs still carry water, my stomach
still carries water, and my heart
still carries you.
Quick releaseI am
slow-burn, long wick
release, soft vanilla
I am burning, numb
living on oxygen and light from the sun.
My fingers reach for heaven,
licking clouds and wings on stallions, whole
I love, I love.
Your hands feel like oceans
holding me like the arms of a gutter, again.
I am awash in
your palms, every line chokes
my glorious throat. I am
grasping, drowning, gasping for anything
left to keep me-
Empty Glassesevery one of my bones pulls outward.
away, trying to escape.
the places where they join ache,
arthritis has set into my soul, quietly.
it seeped in between the time I spent saying
every word backwards
and the time you whispered
eerB, I evol uoy
Okay, I murmured. Okay.
You used me the way light uses prisms to make rainbows.
I am beautiful,
all straight edges and
not enough curves, just corners and points.
You're all curves and elbows
and promises that I'll stay awake
(I always fall asleep eventually).
I love you higher than the Empire State.
I can feel you in my kneecaps.
You're shaking the life out of me
blinking lights, soft thighs
You swore you'd still love me in the morning.
Life Sans Hand-holdsI can feel it
against me, shattering
beneath my finger tips
I've learned to approach it gingerly.
No more hunger, determination
just foot falls
I cannot believe; follow blindly
Nothing holds any weight
I'm tearing at the seams, every
part of me is splitting; grand scale
cell division. Hold
me upright, I'm slipping
into the dark.
Choking on every grimace I make
in an attempt to feign interest in
the chinky display case of existence.
How to: loveIt's the spacious nature of my ribcage
that sends my stuttering heart beating
to this bass line.
You fill my lung cavities, your
leafy fingers choking me
every sigh is a wisp
You hang heavy on my shadow, your
paper-thin iris, the colour of Redhead shallows.
I unpeel as your pluming breath condenses
in the Winter that shivers around us
I can't help but be astounded by the
feeling of the way your lips curve
into me, the impossibility of
everything you embody.
I love it when you just hold me.
Cinder-block WallsI've felt the weight of oceans bury me
in my sleep;
I'm on my knees for you.
you raised empires between my ribs,
shine (solemnly) at night; blind me
while I try to find my dreams in this
mess of blonde hair and bedsheets.
My lungs trembled as I traced your clavicle.
You were small enough to
make me half-full (optimistic).
I know you can feel my heartbeat.
I only wish that your hips
would wear my palms again
hyenas make the best lovers.i need to stop looking
for death in every body
my fingers touch.
i have been force fed
old lovers, & slices
of the moons lying dust
i am messy poems;
i am fractured confessions.
i am laughter
my jaws ache
with the taste of
i am still hungry.
give me your sugar;
I will share my breath.
you are still made of starstuff,
& i am no longer caged.
PretendingYou, full and complete you, you have become my strength and my talisman for all times...
You, and again you, you let I wrecked just in you…
You, my madness is you, you tie me to your body and do not let me go...
You, inside me, between every atom, between every cell you live among...
I say all the time: fear not, there are songs that will never know who sings...
Those kisses never know who prints them on your lovely lips...
You nail down your dreamy eyes and tenderly ask me: Are you crying?
No, I answer. Dried my eyes are... to the bottom you can look into them.
If you get lost, breathe me and you will find you.
The truth is that I beg you to remember that this that born in my mouth, this awakening in my eyes, will sleep latency in your soul.
Undoubtedly you will become the most beautiful and sad fisherwoman of Stars.
I'm hiding my will to live, of my desire to live for you.
Maybe I can lose myself in the eyes of the person asking for a miracle, but it is certain that, I want to
StockholmBut my heart beats for you alone
You are not
You are ever watchful
Hoping for devotion
My wandering heart
Beating for you
My SunlightYou are my sun,
My only light,
As you fade,
The moon is there,
A memory of you,
Of the darkness,
Before your dawn.
You are the breeze,
That kisses my face,
Those tender lips,
That rushing embrace.
You are the grass,
Beneath my feet,
You hide my tears,
You support my weight.
You are the last,
One for me,
There was many before,
But they were never the same.
With you its right,
With you its love,
And if tonight,
I come above.
I'll see your glory,
From the moon,
From the memory,
Of this afternoon.
Puppet String SymphonyHere come the snares,
wrenching at my heart;
like my tongue can’t find the words to say.
I've been resurrecting your skeletons,
just to place broken flesh over it and watch it all decay…
…scratching at freshly picked scars and rose petals,
while digging up old habits and hatchets;
just so I can whistle a tune so tragic.
Here comes the wind,
stomping at my lungs;
like my emotions are gasping to be released.
I've been coughing up your cover-ups,
just to place my index finger over it and watch it all cease…
…living in this darkness, sulfur-tipped match tossed in the breeze,
while thinking it’s just not worth the candle;
just so I can hum a song you can’t handle.
Here come the keys,
playing at my mind;
like all eighty-eight demons and angels serving one star.
I've been worshipping my self-inflicted headache,
two times twelve and that’s how many bars…
…I've got to show you the color I feel.
When the puppet string symphony beg
About ArtA sweet poem,
All but a
For the true art called
HowlHe’s a dancer in the dark
With unearthly rhythm
She’s the moon he left to sleep
In a sky without her stars
Like a poem led by lust
In a world of not to happen
Like a symphony of phoenix flights
On a December night
Singing for the ones they laid to rest
On their holy ground
Without an Earth
He’s the wolf
Howling with regrets
In a world of his own madness
She’s the moon
Without a sky to hold her high
In the night
Like the odds are not in favor
Like the sun that conquers
And the moon on someone else's sky
Like the legends we used to fear
Children by the fire’s flames
We used to be believers
In a world without its hope
Dream, boy, dream of wonder
In a world without sparkle
Like stormy days
In a September goodbye story
Of sleepless nights and awaken dreamers
Stars that pierce the sky
Are just children of regrets
Of a love that never happened
But always echoed in the night
I PromiseIt is a painful thought
To know he kissed you,
To know he stole your innocence.
He felt the warmth and comfort of your love,
But manipulated it to lust
And turned that perfect smile I now see,
Into a lifeless vessel
That gave into his
Carefully painted words
He had you
Before I ever knew you,
I'm sorry I wasn't there,
I'm sorry I could not save you.
But look up at me now, love,
Look up at me with those astonishing, crystal eyes
And know that I will love you
Until this heart of mine has given out.
I am your present
And your future;
I will love you for more than your body,
I will love your wild personality,
I will love your motherly instincts,
I will love your acceptance,
I will love your understanding,
I will love your "frustrations",
I will love your timidness,
I will love your stubbornness,
I will love your laughter,
I will love your tears,
I will love your scars,
I will love your flaws,
But most of all;
I will love you.
The GlowThe Glow
Dictated by Puabi
What brings a glow of fire
To a single woman's eyes?
What curves her red lips
Into a joyful smile?
The promise, the delivery,
The receipt of love.
When she was waiting
Such a long while,
And it comes to her heart
In her surprise.
Imagine, when it comes
To a woman like me,
The brightness of the glow
In her eyes.
Thoughts on: being fuckedThe reality of love is hard. It's heavy, it hits you; and then it picks you up and shakes you. That's the part the stories don't tell. The movies never show the way love grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you awake before you even know you've been sleeping. Love doesn't treat you like you're fragile. I've never felt love in trembles,
you're off the Richter. I feel dizzy when I try to be her, to emulate her unremarkable face, but we both know I can't
stop being extreme.
I'm not made the same, stop bending me into her, I'm sorry I can't
open my legs like she did.
I'm sorry you can't hold my waist in one hand, I'm sorry my hips carry weight,
My body has become an apology.
I had never apologised and meant it.
I wish my mother never taught me that boys hurt you to get your attention.
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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