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ScatterEverything scatters in this universe,
This hazy world of sleeplessness and
Broken thoughts of trying to keep it together,
Hoping to fix was was already shattered,
Falling apart at the seams with nothing but
My hands, so small and useless in the expanse
Of these engulfing tragedies and faults.
How I wish I could fix my mistakes.
They break apart everything that would be good,
All that I might have had by my side
To keep me from bursting into fragments
Of who I was and who I was meant to be.
My memories are scattered now,
Spread across the cosmos and among the stars,
Scattered so far I no longer know where
Who I am supposed to be is.
Silence, Solitude, Loneliness and SorrowSilence is a familiar friend,
One who lies in wait to take my hand,
And lead me back to a place I might call home,
For there I know Solitude again,
And Loneliness and Sorrow.
I am far too acquainted to say that I
Would run away from them.
Yet they can be dangerous friends,
Ones who would break your soul,
And use you until you shatter.
But when others have deserted me,
They will welcome me with open arms,
And give me shelter when I have none.
Beauty in Your LinesThere is beauty in your imperfections,
Beauty in your lines.
There is no pleasure in perfection,
Nor excitement in extremes
That make you seem too far away,
Too lofty to be touched.
I would rather have your imperfections,
Lines that mark your history,
The things you've done,
The things you've seen,
And trials that define you.
There is beauty in your lines,
That outline your sleeping face,
Silhouette of drowsy grace,
And fold the sheets around my waist.
Wrap your lines around mine
And connect our lines until they intertwine
To lose myself in you.
Every NightEvery night,
I drown again in my sorrow.
A boy I know,
Across the ocean,
Takes my heart and claims it.
I fall deeper,
But shroud my darkness in light.
Somehow there will always be
Darkness in the light,
Shadows in the sun,
Blackness in the white.
I die a little more inside,
Paint a face that smiles,
Even when inside is breaking.
More Beautiful and DeadlyI am born of something greater than myself,
Something more beautiful and deadly,
With more charm than the dancing snake
That would entrance the desert hare.
I am more dangerous than that.
To play with me is to play with fire,
To offend me is to beckon an inferno.
You best be careful, boy,
Or you will find your fingers burned.
Tangled MindDancing entwined in these words
That I made up,
Somewhere inside my head,
This madness makes some kind of sense,
I just wish there was some way
To stop it from
Taking over my mind,
Taking over my hands,
Curling around everything that I know,
Consuming all the life that my song would have.
I can't breathe anymore,
I can't hear it anymore,
I've lost what I wanted most,
Reaching for something I was told to want.
I don't want it.
I never wanted it.
I told myself lies,
And now all I get in return are more lies.
Serves me right.
I was never meant to have what I want.
Tell me what to do then.
Make me forget what I desire most,
What I have already lost,
What already digs the knife deeper into my heart.
Make me become the machine
You would have me be.
There is madness everywhere
And only by erasing everything
That makes me who I am
Can this madness be untangled
And the words will finally stop dancing
And maybe the music will come back.
Liquor is one way out an'death's the other The art of growing up,
is to pour shots of whiskey
into your coffee in the morning
to make it through
when all you want to do
is lie in bed
but there’s nothing
The tragedy of the mook and how it died one dayThe fickle sky presses
Against the glass of the windows
And the dry strung up heat of the winter sun
Spilled over the anemic asphalt
Our shadows seared into the bottom of our sneakers
Moving with a sort of blithe nonchalance
Searching for the speckled grey of a familiar horizon
The apathetic footsteps and my clenched hands
Quiver beneath the setting sun’s bloody smear
Across the over populated sky
That was no longer clear
Rather it was the looking glass phenomena
Spread eagled across my retinas
And during those grief stricken days spent
Hanging off your rooftops and skylines
I've contemplated replacing
my heart with another
Liver so I can
Drink more and care less
And I can vow that sleeping is only
For the dead or at least
The heavily medicated and sadly
I can no longer tell the difference between
spun out so far, i can't be true to you.he's still the way i watch the stars
and how i run like no one's watching
he's what i dream of when i'm awake
but maybe i'm done waiting
maybe it's you
maybe it's me this time
and maybe that's enough
he still races through my veins
and no, my heart is not steady when i see him
but i was never one for patience
a year is too long to hold on
and he is conservative
and button downs
he is beautiful
but i am wild
i am dirty feet
and summer evenings
i am mud-caked nails
and cider throats
i am sun soaked
laced with drunken poetry
i am watercolour
he is oil based
he is canvas in london galleries
i am doodles on napkins in mediterranean restuarants
you are cheekbones and dark eyes
coffee stained fingers
smirks and accidental brushes
i don't intend to know anything more
he is confidence
i am uncertainty
i live in the wind and the forests
we both spend too much time in front of mirrors
but whilst he kisses them
i crack them
and all the while he is leather
i.by the grace of an orphaned wintering,
i have known you
babel, babylon: eyes raptured rare and hands
to strange knowing and palebruised
throat of dissonance
. ...such sudden gods. such taken
you stumble where night falls
too far to the left; my wild garden
old dusks, blue
reality vs. pretendi.
a wooden sword
and an eye-patch
i was a girl who
knew deep inside
had developed feelings
and they were all
selfishly for me.
you tricked me,
you kidnapped me,
all to tell you stories
in which good triumphs
over evil, not really;
was to walk the plank
as you planned to kill
him and feed him to
the ticking crocodile.
happy thoughts and
faerie dust would
allow me to fly,
but i only had the
first and i was doomed;
your wooden sword poked
my back, waiting for me
to take the leap
down (the stairs),
hearing the ticking
(of the oven)
go off - just in time.
surly, mother called us
down for dinner
and at the end of the night,
it was all truly
bedtime stories will
serve as my peter pan,
as my escape from reality.
ScreamSo I'll stand and yell it to the ceiling
to celebrate the fact that i'm alive and breathing.
I'll take your hand to try and share this feeling.
The only thing I can do is stand and scream.
"I still fucking love you."
And hope it starts the healing.
PossibilitesWhen I was 5
I wanted to be
anything to be
When I was 12
I wanted to be
to learn how
the Earth works
and what makes
stones so beautiful
When I was 16
I wasn't sure what
I wanted to be
The future was uncertain
So was I at this point of time
But then again
So were other kids
Now I'm 20
I want to be a writer
My mind's eye seeing
people and places
like a photo album
words stringing together
to create something beautiful
Because.Because thank you isn't enough
because I'm Sorry won't solve a thing.
Because I'm too short
or too tall
or too skinny
or too fat.
Because it just doesn't work that way
because somethings can't be changed
Because when you
spend a lot of time
writing the word
on a sheet of
white lined paper
you just begin to realize things.
Because saying 'because'
won't help you in life.
Because you just have to do it.
Because you just need to get up.
Because you just got to go somewhere.
Because we should stop doubting ourselves and
because we should only try our best.
Because life is too short.
By: Ulrich J S Edelstein
-My thoughts alter
Of each passing day.
They never stay identical.
-At a single moment
They could be cordial, charming, or gratifying.
Then they could alter drastically
Into thoughts of outrageous things.
-They could go from endearing, delightful and virtuous,
To homicidal and barbaric.
Thoughts of inspiration and aspiration,
To murderous and torturous plotting.
-I could think that I like someone,
Thinking they are full of elegance, charm, and intensity,
To insufferable, ghastly beings of this Earth.
Drastically altering my mood along with my thoughts.
-All is well at one moment,
And then all is heart breaking at another.
Becoming aware no one really cares.
People who are supposed to support you, disrespect you immensely.
-My thoughts alter when I fall and no one is there for me to lean on.
I think that they are caring people,
Then disrespectful, low pieces of debris
That animals urinate all over.
-My thoughts alter all the time.
Rotten BetrayalWe were never just normal.
We were always beautiful,
Tantalizing and shining.
They wanted to be us,
Wanted to have us.
We knew that and used it,
Played with them like puppets.
But in the end,
We had to fall,
And then the appeal faded.
They turned their backs on us,
And we were left to rot in the fetid air.
Keep in Touch!
^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