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never.he holds his head
and shakes in his seat,
collapses in upon himself
in searing pain--
smothering me with
neverending words of shame
and promise, like
"forever"
like "never"
or "ever"
like "it doesn't matter, not ever."

gold dust.his lips were soft,
so lovely and irresistible-
his kiss woke the day
and shattered the night,
tracing letters on my skin
like braille
and entwining his fingertips
in the auburn cascades
of my hair.
as he pressed himself
closer to me,
i couldn't help but
close my eyes and
blind myself to everything
but his gentle touch
and the feeling of
his body against mine.

gold dust fell where
our lips met,
marking the path behind us
and carrying us beyond-
turning our wounds to
the faint pink lines
of scar tissue:
memories we won't
soon forget.

in this scene you're just an extra.i've compiled my thoughts
into a song
with tender mellowed notes
of caressing fingers and tongues
in every lyric;

sung for you by my wings -
each feather lifting me up
and dragging me down,
eating away before it falls off
like a cancer i could take with me
beneath my fingernails if i touched it.

and if i ever needed you
i could watch you walk away -
without sympathy for my aching lungs
letting loose note after note;
you would leave like a strange soldier
leaving for a new battle,
not once looking over your shoulder to see
if i followed the footsteps you left
in wet concrete.

i never did,
my feet turned into mirrors
an

Grey Blazedear her fragile heart:

forget how the course of his words dance through the
soft-spoken language of your pretty veins. forget

how the spaces between his carved letters on your skin synchronizes with
the desperate rush of oxygen in your sunken lungs. how

the weight of sorrow determined by his liberties crush
what's left of your ever-present, ever-bearing backbone. the

times your teeth would pull apart liquid apologies, threatening to
drown oceans of craving tides tied with his forlorn desires. times

of tender heartbeats, of
broken breaths.

come back, it's almost easy.Scream until your lungs collapse.
Go on, I dare you.

(You don't have to be strong all of the time,
even if your heart is made out of poison
it's okay to breathe.

I always knew your smile
was enough to kill hearts.
You always would kill demons
because you believed demons were attracted to hearts,
but you always balled your hands in fists
as you screamed until you couldn't breathe.)

You would always echo, ''Do not disturb''
because you believed you were a monster
who broke the law.
(You never believed in yourself,
but the truth is that I've never met someone
as flawless as you.

(I've had every promise broken, there's

i should have never loved you.in that one moment, i wanted to stand up and hit him: i wanted to make him hurt, make him bleed, make him feel what he did to me. make him feel his lies and deceit, push it into his skin like a knife and letting the scarlet lies pour out for everyone to see.

every little lie, every "mia bella" came back to haunt me. every word that idly dripped out of his mouth that caressed and cared for me turned black and shriveled like a dead flower.

because every time he kissed me, he lied.

i can't believe i just let him string me along like that. he just turned me into some sort of flesh-and-blood puppet, tossed me around and stepped on me like garba

Prejudice.Love is love. Why question it?

against the grain.i've never been afraid of ghosts,
though sometimes when i removed the black-framed panes of glass from my eyes, i saw them. spots of light pulsated softly as my eyes struggled to focus against the blackness of the sky with smeared stars and harsh streetlamps marking the edges of concrete. i was afraid to blink and my seven-year-old mind was convinced that behind my eyelids i would take with me these demons.
i say there is no wrong in choosing to blind yourself to this world and open to one without lines and i am on a straight shot to joining the latter. i am the kind of person that clings to make-believe, not glasses and handlebars – i get caught in the beauty, and for a moment i forget that bright red means "stop, you're going to die." reality fizzles out like static and i'm left to see the ghosts that so entice me to leave what i know.
we leave our bodies far too soon to become part of the smudges that hide in flickering neon signs so i close my eyes as often as i can because i

the earth doesn't deserve youdear janet,

it is true that I have become
the woman of the dark
who doesn't bring good dreams. i know

some nights you have your hand pressed to your heart
trying to rip the
all of you out, some fucking way
thinking
it's got to give in sometime

I know that your bed
(laden with mother's sweet quilts
that tangle like ropes 'round
your innards)
has become your
chamber, with your legs bent like
chains towards your chest, and the air
an insoluble breath that
drowns you in
a sea
of shortcomings

I know that God's
fucked you in so many ways
not even a man would,
pulled your beautiful locks right from your skull
and dragged yo

so this weekendso my friend, he tells me he doesn't drink. he tells me he has respect for himself and knows well enough that if he did, he would unravel like a spool of yarn and make decisions he'd regret because he wouldn't remember them in the first place.

what i didn't tell you was that he's a little more than just my friend, what i didn't tell you was that he was drunker than a bum in the alley on friday night; what he didn't tell me was that he he found a new heart to call home, so i wrung my hands like a telephone until i resisted the urge to call home, too.

so my friend, you know, the one who's a little more than a friend, the one who uses my body

poetry is dumb. (fuck logic)maybe you'll read this, maybe you won't.
i have a feeling you might.

it's two-sixteen,
four hours since the pieces of glass hit my stomach
after my heart shattered.

you did it,
you cheated, and you lied.
all i wanted was for you to tell me the truth,
isn't it what i deserve?

yeah, i don't write in rhymes often
but fuck it, it's still poetry;
broken hearts make great pencils,
i guess you learned that today
if you started writing your own.

six lines this time,
because anything less is overused
like your excuses--
all i want is for you to say you're sorry
and admit what you did
but i don't think you can.

and it's too soon t

tornadoi woke up to harsh winds
summer rain beyond my door
licking the walls, begging
to get in. i opened them,
stepped
onto the flesh of earth

and there
before the ether

nature
whipped its tail 'round my earthen home
twisting and turning like my body
for affection--
but everyone was gone.

tidal wavetoday i was misguided under the name

lefrois, and i

took it in like holocaust hunger

because, in honesty
i liked he way it rolled off his mouth
and made way
into my own.

lee-froyce

and even though his skin was
a wash of somber,

i told myself it was impermanent;

i could
lick the dirt from his face
right here in my bed.

---

he told me that his heart was
never really an anchor that
stopped his boat from moving forward.

"like a motor," he told me

so he could caress all the eager
waves in the sea
without having to
choose.

phenosbecause really, this is humanity: the sum total of all we are is far greater than our ambition as to what we could >would/should< be.

(be.)

and this, she said, this is what i want, want to be come to be-come-be; she
draped beauty around her sunrise shoulders like a shawl disproportionate to her little
mangle-toed chinese footprints and, ever the most considerate child, soft-
spoken and fragile-
boned, proceeded to

master the art

of vanishing entirely.

trying golden locks with stolen silver keys, i.
find it rather humorous that pens are symbolic of power but
anything
can simply infiltrate my pores like arsenic (which we

smoking kills.you know, my dearest,
when you smoke a cigarette
your heart turns black, too.

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one.

by *snow-angels, Oct 11, 2011, 10:59:57 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

i.
he says he hates poetry,
does he know i'm a poet?

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one.by *snow-angels

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i know, i know, it's short. it's going to be part of a series. i'm a bit slow right now, i haven't written anything in weeks. maybe this new inspiration might help.

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Submitted on: October 11, 2011
File Size: 168 bytes

Views: 1,965
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~Jrwo May 29, 2012

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~The-Picturer Dec 22, 2011

hah, this is awesome! funny in the best possible way. and the abruptness adds to it. if it was longer, it'd lose charm and wit.

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*snow-angels Dec 22, 2011 Student Writer

thanks!!

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~fantafestis Oct 24, 2011

_{I can relate. A wonderfully short masterpiece.}

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*snow-angels Oct 24, 2011 Student Writer

thank you!

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~Jrwo Oct 13, 2011

talk him ney,..[link]

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~fantafestis Oct 12, 2011

_{Easy to relate. Beautiful piece of work.}

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*snow-angels Oct 12, 2011 Student Writer

thank you!

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~hinamori04 Oct 12, 2011 Student Traditional Artist

i like it, it inspires me^^

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*snow-angels Oct 12, 2011 Student Writer

i'm glad, thank you!!

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