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XI. i think the word is 'disassociation', actuallythere is some kind of
and i think i might be dying
or worse, losing sight
of memory and feeling
my arms are aching
with the weight of existing
i am not myself, i am
VIII. it took a long time to get there, tooi was halfway to the edge of the universe
bent on destroying the idea of nothing,
when i remembered i forgot my soul
deep in the flower beds at home,
so i gasped; miniscule fragments
of stars got stuck
in the dips of my teeth and on my tongue
and the universe filled the gap of my soul.
and i think i might have discovered a god there,
sitting on the precipice into nothing
and laughing at the prospect of mortality.
we all join them in the end,
but even a god cannot exist
without existence to be had.
VII. it's like we were made for each otherstrange, how each gap between your ribs
is the perfect width for my index finger,
and how each breath you take expands
your breasts perfectly into my hands.
wonderful, how when we kiss,
it feels like the whole universe
has condensed into that one perfect moment
of just you, and me.
perfect, how each touch i give
returns me smiles and kisses,
and how soft your hips are under my palms.
VI. didnt you get with the times?!when we kiss, i feel at peace,
and when you plait my hair
and put tiny little flowers
among the twists, i feel whole.
people like to say im strange,
or that my life must be hard;
but i love you right around the world
and i dont think that's unnatural
I. i looked out the window and saw so many flowersspring tastes fresh on my lips,
rain alighting on the grass
with a refreshing caress, and
the sweet calls of the swallows are near.
sitting under the old oak, hiding
from the cool sun's gaze
that is too cold for sleeveless shirts
but too warm for your girlfriend's sweater.
you think you see life
blooming under your palms
as you rest them on the dirt
and when you breathe,
you feel like there are tiny flowers
growing from your throat.
II. trigger warningi see;
the white crescents at the tops of my nails
extend down my whole fingers
as i dig as hard as i can into the wall
things blurring and difficulty breathing
and im clutching as hard as i can
but i dont feel anything
people staring and judging at laughing
at the poor pathetic thing that cannot
hold their composure because of one little thing?!
i dont see
because my vision has left me along with my breath
abandoning me in a wash of cold sweat
and a feeling like death-
How to love a girl who can't love herself.one.
When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.
On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.
Don't let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says "I think I'm broken" smile like you
know a secret and say, "No, you're mending."
But do not be the one to fix her - no, she
Skin.I love the way life leaves its mark on our bodies.
Every laugh and smile etched in the crinkles around your eyes and mouth;
Those tan-lines the time you forgot about sunscreen
Because you were so hell-bent on reaching that mountain peak
Or when you just became lost in the gentle lap of waves at the shore;
The scars you got skateboarding in the park at summer dusk
Or when life became pain and it was your only release.
Our bodies are a record of our memories and experiences
They are our travel journals and emotional diaries
Our delicate armour to the elements.
And no matter its colour, its stature, if it's not quite intact
If you sometimes think it takes up too much space, or if it has pointy corners
Your body is the vessel for your soul, and every wonderful facet of who you are
Sparkles from the surface of your skin.
Skin that may grow to be wrinkled, tanned, scarred, well lived-in
Although not always embraced by you the way that others embrace it.
Take the time to explore the s
the only letter I've ever wanted to burni.
if you want to give someone the silent treatment,
the first step is shutting up.
things made much more sense
when I was younger.
I thought there was one path,
each choice a stepping stone upon it.
in reality there are a million roads
intertwined like rope.
I got lost
I chose you.
promises are easily broken.
I knew that,
but it still hurt
spending friday night
shivering in the rain,
choking on cannabis perfume
in a dirt parking lot
your face never graced.
and I hoped against hope
you might appear,
but I wasted my wishing
on ungrateful you.
you died before taking your first breath.
I took a chance
and I should've known better.
you can give somebody all you have
and nothing can stop them from
throwing it away.
you've made this bed,
now lie in it.
you slit this suture,
you're the goddamn reason
I gave up on the month of april,
and soon enough you'll fall on your own blade
like some drunken samurai.
if you want
The scarsLife hurts us
It causes us to bleed
Time can heal the wounds
And stop the pain
But the scars remain
For the rest of our lives....
car crash on an empty roadit happened before
we did. it was more a person
than you or I or that boy
in the park trying
to convince us to
stupid. it happened
before your smile
cracked the sky in half, before
our laughters slurred into
a dissonant song, before
your fingers traced the stories
lying on my face before I knew
just how many pieces of sunshine
were trapped in your hair before
the walls became the ceiling and
I wasn’t claustrophobic.
things I remember:
the red blur of your room like
God was experimenting with the
symbolism in modern art, the
tri-tone shimmering of your eyes
like the surface of the water, the way
you defined perfection as a scale of
women ending with a less than sensible
me, the way you always moved like
you were dancing and no one was there to
Die AloneI take apart her heart
And lay the pieces down
In a circular form.
Let her bleed a work of art.
I forgot I’m crazy.
I’ll whisper my secrets
Only if she promises
To die here alone with me.
things i don't rememberi.
what you sounded like
as my ears were forming
what dreams or secrets
you confided in me
what pressures sunk
your proud shoulders
or the first time
i caused you
where i was when i decided
that your footsteps
should be followed
that your ideals
should be made my own
on my body
as i learned the world's ways
do not align
with our hopes
when i first
how my feet dangled
every time i wasn't strong enough and
how you made the world
how you were
figuring it all out
thought that life
Our Weight and RopesYour life, little flower
like a snake
from a can
lungs not ready
you hit the air
it hit you
months too early
this life on earth
and its lightning
hit and burnt
nothing about you
was anywhere near
and ever so luckily
your wings were
slow to form too
as it was all
we could do
were barely enough
to keep you
from floating away
pulled back inside
and years later
we're the ones
gunfire echoes.it permeates the very land we stand on.
the rat-at-tat-tat of machine guns
the slick click and tick
of the lock in time with the clock
tick tock bang.
how to justify war?
why take lives for lives for lives for lives for lives
'such a waste' to see
men lying gutted in the fields drowning in blood and bile
missing eyes arms ears legs tongues
bodies used for camouflage
rancid corpses become a safe new skin
gas froths the mouth rolls the eyes corrupts the lungs
blue blooded generals cheer a
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More