Still younger than I am old,
yet I age each day
and I wonder what I am,
what I'm doing,
I know who I used to be,
but who am I now?
Changing, aging,
sometimes my arms feel longer than my legs,
my knuckles scrape against the ground
and I wonder if the scabs on my skin will
heal and fall off,
though as I fall down,
I know it will feel better to get up,
my heart continues to ache in ways I don't understand,
because being in love with life feels similar to feeling lonely,
so much to feel, to ache for,
it is more than a slow exhalation,
it is excruciatingly beautiful,
I am now more than sick of dreaming,
being alive is being awake.
A Journal Entry on Love and Sleep Disorders by blackdahlia911, literature
Literature
A Journal Entry on Love and Sleep Disorders
I have not written yet this year. I wonder sometimes if I am really alive. I am afraid of what I am because I do not know and not knowing makes me nervous. Anxious. Anxiety: a tight knot in the throat; a welling in the gut; a fast paced mind. My mind, my body. I know all of these aches so well they bring me comfort. I have been tired for so long that feeling awake feels extraordinary. My senses are heightened, I feel more, I cry because I find things beautiful, I get angry out of nowhere. But I do not mind, no I cannot mind for I'd rather feel everything intensely than not be able to feel anything at all. I was numb for so long that waking up
I. Crisp,
the way the lights come together,
though your lips part,
you make it easier to breathe when I can feel you exhale.
II. Blossoms on my forearms
and blood on my thighs,
when I see your soft smile
there is a welling beneath my ribs,
this sense of yearning where if honey were love,
I'd want to drowned you in it,
let the syrup sink into your lungs so you could breathe in my love.
III. While I met you when I was asleep,
when I heard your heart beat, I never felt more awake,
and now it's more than that,
I am alive,
the fog has cleared,
my skin is raw,
and clarity has settled in.
IV. The emptiness,
the void,
the aching in my chest;
I
Nightmares, Light, and the Experience of Dying by blackdahlia911, literature
Literature
Nightmares, Light, and the Experience of Dying
I've got nightmares in my veins,
raw lips and peeled back skin,
you haunt me in the divide,
in the spaces in between,
cut me open,
open at the ankles,
my dreams will escape through my feet,
I once dreamt I was a wolf,
I was everything, I was nothing,
I was throaty growls and teeth tearing into flesh,
give me venison, give me rabbit,
fresh game on a November night,
what happens to the feeling when you decide to let go?
To give into instinct, to intuition,
finding a place where hunger defies rational thought,
I have always been more animal than human,
more carnivore than peacekeeper,
though I have found peace in the cycle of life,
born to
There's something beautiful to longing,
and I have longed for you even before I met you,
my dear,
my darling,
the ache in my chest,
the spaces in between heartbeats,
no, love is not a lie with you.
I. Lust is a skin disease,
your skin on mine,
our forearms brush
and harmonies fall hard on our backs,
the air runs thick through our opaque paper lungs
as we move in forests of wild bamboo and ripened fruit,
there is an art to being succulent,
ready to be plucked from an orchard tree
as an apple,
as a tangerine,
as a cherry.
II. Love lies in the mind,
in the heart,
a subtle pull, a tug,
and I'm writhing on the floor in heaps of untamed emotion,
to say I love you?
no control,
the empathy rolls off my tongue like my own saliva,
I've started swallowing chameleon hearts to blend with the earth,
but you can still see me,
for I never fell for y
Carnivores and Lovers by blackdahlia911, literature
Literature
Carnivores and Lovers
The horizon melts down over my eyelids,
the hot oranges settle into my scalp
until I'm growing flames where my hair should be,
succulent pink flamingos dance among the sunset
and your tongue tastes of cherry wildflowers,
you've got that sweet maraschino blood
that I would love to bathe in,
feel the redness of the sea waters rise over
my pale thighs,
we ride the chills
and soak in the heat,
we're too in love to let go,
the manipulation, the anger, the fear
all have led me to this place,
I no longer live beneath a dulled mind and
muted lips,
I no longer need the rum to satisfy those lonely winter night
aches,
and I'd been aching for
I love your skin,
the way it hums melodies against my own,
that warm buzz that exudes out your pores like honey,
but I love you for more than your skin,
I love your soul and the way it moves me,
the way your chest rises to fall again,
the way you make me feel like I've just begun in an ending world.
A Rush of Blood, The Way Love Aches by blackdahlia911, literature
Literature
A Rush of Blood, The Way Love Aches
I feel him feeling me
and then I feel him letting go,
fingertips slip away from my skin,
and my ribs are left with a ghost's impression,
vertical lines run up and down my thighs
and the sun kisses the small of my back,
my blood, oh, my blood,
it runs red as my sins,
my legs break at the synapses
but I can feel the moon putting me back together,
the darkness pulls me but I am no longer afraid,
something tells me I've been here before,
fresh meat, no longer fresh, but tender,
now I'm flipping through the pages of his mind,
but I've found his heart has it's own set of teeth,
for he has latched onto me with leechy fangs
that fall hard agains
The air runs thick through my windpipes,
empty chest, blank stares,
I sit down and watch you burn,
smoldering sunlit skin,
I cross my legs and light a cigarette off of your flaming flesh,
love is patient, love is kind,
but I'm a bitch,
with alligator blood and aching gums,
I take pleasure in knowing that it stings as you inhale,
your lungs collapse and now you're heaving on the floor,
I stand up and turn to go,
then my lips form into a satisfied wildcat's grin
as I blow the smoke off of your barbed wire bones,
this isn't science,
this is feeling,
and I'm feeling really fucking hot.
Still younger than I am old,
yet I age each day
and I wonder what I am,
what I'm doing,
I know who I used to be,
but who am I now?
Changing, aging,
sometimes my arms feel longer than my legs,
my knuckles scrape against the ground
and I wonder if the scabs on my skin will
heal and fall off,
though as I fall down,
I know it will feel better to get up,
my heart continues to ache in ways I don't understand,
because being in love with life feels similar to feeling lonely,
so much to feel, to ache for,
it is more than a slow exhalation,
it is excruciatingly beautiful,
I am now more than sick of dreaming,
being alive is being awake.
A Journal Entry on Love and Sleep Disorders by blackdahlia911, literature
Literature
A Journal Entry on Love and Sleep Disorders
I have not written yet this year. I wonder sometimes if I am really alive. I am afraid of what I am because I do not know and not knowing makes me nervous. Anxious. Anxiety: a tight knot in the throat; a welling in the gut; a fast paced mind. My mind, my body. I know all of these aches so well they bring me comfort. I have been tired for so long that feeling awake feels extraordinary. My senses are heightened, I feel more, I cry because I find things beautiful, I get angry out of nowhere. But I do not mind, no I cannot mind for I'd rather feel everything intensely than not be able to feel anything at all. I was numb for so long that waking up
I. Crisp,
the way the lights come together,
though your lips part,
you make it easier to breathe when I can feel you exhale.
II. Blossoms on my forearms
and blood on my thighs,
when I see your soft smile
there is a welling beneath my ribs,
this sense of yearning where if honey were love,
I'd want to drowned you in it,
let the syrup sink into your lungs so you could breathe in my love.
III. While I met you when I was asleep,
when I heard your heart beat, I never felt more awake,
and now it's more than that,
I am alive,
the fog has cleared,
my skin is raw,
and clarity has settled in.
IV. The emptiness,
the void,
the aching in my chest;
I
Nightmares, Light, and the Experience of Dying by blackdahlia911, literature
Literature
Nightmares, Light, and the Experience of Dying
I've got nightmares in my veins,
raw lips and peeled back skin,
you haunt me in the divide,
in the spaces in between,
cut me open,
open at the ankles,
my dreams will escape through my feet,
I once dreamt I was a wolf,
I was everything, I was nothing,
I was throaty growls and teeth tearing into flesh,
give me venison, give me rabbit,
fresh game on a November night,
what happens to the feeling when you decide to let go?
To give into instinct, to intuition,
finding a place where hunger defies rational thought,
I have always been more animal than human,
more carnivore than peacekeeper,
though I have found peace in the cycle of life,
born to
There's something beautiful to longing,
and I have longed for you even before I met you,
my dear,
my darling,
the ache in my chest,
the spaces in between heartbeats,
no, love is not a lie with you.
I. Lust is a skin disease,
your skin on mine,
our forearms brush
and harmonies fall hard on our backs,
the air runs thick through our opaque paper lungs
as we move in forests of wild bamboo and ripened fruit,
there is an art to being succulent,
ready to be plucked from an orchard tree
as an apple,
as a tangerine,
as a cherry.
II. Love lies in the mind,
in the heart,
a subtle pull, a tug,
and I'm writhing on the floor in heaps of untamed emotion,
to say I love you?
no control,
the empathy rolls off my tongue like my own saliva,
I've started swallowing chameleon hearts to blend with the earth,
but you can still see me,
for I never fell for y
Carnivores and Lovers by blackdahlia911, literature
Literature
Carnivores and Lovers
The horizon melts down over my eyelids,
the hot oranges settle into my scalp
until I'm growing flames where my hair should be,
succulent pink flamingos dance among the sunset
and your tongue tastes of cherry wildflowers,
you've got that sweet maraschino blood
that I would love to bathe in,
feel the redness of the sea waters rise over
my pale thighs,
we ride the chills
and soak in the heat,
we're too in love to let go,
the manipulation, the anger, the fear
all have led me to this place,
I no longer live beneath a dulled mind and
muted lips,
I no longer need the rum to satisfy those lonely winter night
aches,
and I'd been aching for
I love your skin,
the way it hums melodies against my own,
that warm buzz that exudes out your pores like honey,
but I love you for more than your skin,
I love your soul and the way it moves me,
the way your chest rises to fall again,
the way you make me feel like I've just begun in an ending world.
A Rush of Blood, The Way Love Aches by blackdahlia911, literature
Literature
A Rush of Blood, The Way Love Aches
I feel him feeling me
and then I feel him letting go,
fingertips slip away from my skin,
and my ribs are left with a ghost's impression,
vertical lines run up and down my thighs
and the sun kisses the small of my back,
my blood, oh, my blood,
it runs red as my sins,
my legs break at the synapses
but I can feel the moon putting me back together,
the darkness pulls me but I am no longer afraid,
something tells me I've been here before,
fresh meat, no longer fresh, but tender,
now I'm flipping through the pages of his mind,
but I've found his heart has it's own set of teeth,
for he has latched onto me with leechy fangs
that fall hard agains
The air runs thick through my windpipes,
empty chest, blank stares,
I sit down and watch you burn,
smoldering sunlit skin,
I cross my legs and light a cigarette off of your flaming flesh,
love is patient, love is kind,
but I'm a bitch,
with alligator blood and aching gums,
I take pleasure in knowing that it stings as you inhale,
your lungs collapse and now you're heaving on the floor,
I stand up and turn to go,
then my lips form into a satisfied wildcat's grin
as I blow the smoke off of your barbed wire bones,
this isn't science,
this is feeling,
and I'm feeling really fucking hot.
1.
i didn’t realize that you were my sixth vertebrae
until i broke my
back.
( i stepped through the cracks in the tunnel when you held my hand )
you skated out of the hospital like the ribbons
living in the edges of my eyelids -
i knew you were a dancer on the left stage of my Broadway
right around the streetlights in my ribcage.
2.
i switched my veins for electricity and my eyes for strobe lights
letting the vibrations shatter my sweet bones.
( we drove that car down i-75 at breakneck )
you shivered into my skin like hyperactive meteors
& i thought i was your polish girl [stretched into your cosmos]
3.
d
Daily Deviation
In case you missed it, Escape Velocity was DD'd last Monday. That means I need to say hello to my new Watchers (hello!) and tell everyone to go give a high five to Nichrysalis (https://www.deviantart.com/nichrysalis) :D I still kinda want to revise the piece, but knowing me, it's one of those things I won't do until ages later anyway.
All this attention lately has been strange for me. Ever since making my title poem project a news article, my pageview graph has been hitting the higher numbers. It makes me self-conscious :XD:
Personal
Well, it's midterm season. Last week I knocked out the American Lit. exam and tomorrow is Postcolonial Lit. American Dream is on T
And I will Always be the Moon by blackdahlia911, literature
Literature
And I will Always be the Moon
We have gotten so attached to these days and these months,
but a deer doesn't know a Tuesday from a Thursday
and a caribou can't comprehend that it was born on a September afternoon,
but they can understand this instant, this moment, this breath,
only now, no longer the past, and only the future when they get there,
there's a healthy lack of awareness in that,
escaping the fear of death but thriving off the instinct to live,
everything so primal and based off gut reactions,
I guess you could say ignorance is bliss,
but ignorance only actually applies when it comes to humanity,
oh I would like a life like that,
one tha
you are my careful ghost by blackdahlia911, literature
Literature
you are my careful ghost
i. The air is thick and I'm drinking you in like sunlight through a silver straw,
I'm feeling like my spine has come unzipped and my crayola red innards have become exposed to the cool air,
you're like the slivers in my fingers that I can't pull out,
maybe I should try scraping off layers of skin with tweezers,
goodbye dead cells, hello fresh meat,
damn, why are you so fresh as fuck.
ii. A whirlpool has developed beneath my chest so there goes my sense of sanity,
actually it's more like boiling water, bubbling, spewing out passed my eyes,
and all I've been asking for is for you to either take me or let me go,
let's be honest, I cou
For anyone who still follows me on deviantart, I'd appreciate you checking out my new website: www.josiefrances.com
It is my photography/art website for business.
I have also started up an art blog to go along with it on tumblr: josiefrances.tumblr.com
I posted some photos and a random poem just to get things started but I will post photos, writing, and paintings regularly if you are interested in following :)
When stripped down to bone and blood vessels, what makes us different from anyone else? Maybe it was never the body that made the difference, but the soul that lie inside it. Today a helicopter crashed. Two died and one in critical condition. But what should that mean to those who never knew them? It has the possibility of meaning everything. The loss is sad, but shouldn't that inspire us to really live? I mean truly and passionately live. Death is unpredictable but imminent all the same. So when I hear the advice to take chances and to go after your dreams, no matter how huge, it makes me wonder why most of us do not. It also makes me questi
I'm not sure how many of my watchers still even pay attention to my work and I feel bad that I have not been posting poems and prose lately, but it's because I have really gotten into painting. So here is the link to my etsy site where I sell prints, originals, and custom paintings:
https://www.etsy.com/shop/josiefrances?ref=si_shop
It would mean a lot to me if you check it out. I still plan to continue writing but painting is the current forefront artistic outlet! Let me know what you think :)
Hello. Sorry to bother you but I am trying to create a new group dedicated to Original Literature and wondered if you would be interested in joining?
I know that we are a bit short of members right now, but I am hoping that people will soon join and the fun and games can begin! You are also more than welcome to submit your written work to our gallery.
I hope that you will consider joining us soon. If not, I apologise for taking up your wall space
sent an angel to watch over you last night but it came back.I asked "why?"The angel said "angels don't watch over angels."Twenty one angels are IN your world. Ten of them are sleeping, Ten are playing, one is reading this message.Send this to ten friends including me. I guess if I don't get it back I'm not one of them. As soon as you get five replies, someone you love will quietly surprise you.Please read, not joking. God has seen you struggling with something. God says its over. A blessing is coming your way.If you believe in God send this message on. Please don't ignore it. You are being tested. God is going to fix two things BIG tonight in your favor. DROP Everything and pass it on. Tomorrow will be the best day of your life. Don't break this chain.Send to 14 friends in 10 minutes. It's not that hard