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Aging and Waking UpStill 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?
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 DisordersI 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 has made every moment more passionate. I want my family and friends to understand how deeply I love them. I get overwhelmed by the intensity of love for my other half. There is a physical ache somewhere in my volcanic heart when I think of the way I love him. I could never have guessed this is what love would feel like in a waking mind. I would bl
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 aching in my chest;
I lost them all upon finding you,
for loss breeds new beginnings
and though this is foreign,
it also feels fresh.
Nightmares, Light, and the Experience of DyingI'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 die, dying all the time,
thus lucidity floods my mind
and I dissolve into the ocean of death,
but if I were to die now, would I then, truly come alive?
I am not afraid,
for what is death if not a way for us to come together again?
The light that finds me in the dark,
I, a moth, cling to the flickering flames,
to the dim lamp,
I grasp for light in a fiel
After DuskThere's something beautiful to longing,
and I have longed for you even before I met you,
the ache in my chest,
the spaces in between heartbeats,
no, love is not a lie with you.
To Love a WolfI. 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?
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 you,
I rise and have risen,
with you, a wolf, I have howled,
the moon has sewn your veins into mine
so not only is this passion, this is love.
Carnivores and LoversThe 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
I no longer need the rum to satisfy those lonely winter night
and I'd been aching for so long,
though it eased and it eased
as summer passed,
now it's as if I've been plucked from the graveyard
that lies in my own mind,
then you went and caught me in the midst of a rebirth,
you ran your moon carved fingertips
through my fiery fresh locks,
and now you're tracing over my arctic bones
like you want to remember every
so snap me at
To BeginI 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 AchesI 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 against my neck like torrential rain,
my body shivers under chemistry's touch,
helium, krypton, cadmium,
he melts me down,
the way his atoms interact with mine,
but science can't give reason for this kind of state,
the one where bodies are abandoned
and souls catch fire in a colliding wind,
I can feel his essence become mine
and I let go,
I don't need logic w
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.
TonightBring me to life
With your touch.
Love me now,
Forget me later.
Set me on fire
With your lips,
Into my soul.
At least for tonight,
Let me feel again.
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.
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
my eyes sometimes forget youwhen you are gone, my eyes sometimes forget you;
the daily grind goes on; the bus-wheels roll their hides over the asphalt roads;
the snow melts into pools and clings to boots, licking the rubber heels of girls
who sway their hips to music that i only faintly hear; the women smile in coffee shops
and leave stray hairs on the wicker chairs; people pass by windows and their zippers
catch the light; my fingers turn the pages of new books.
somehow your voice finds me in the midst of all of this,
and very softly brings the words
that never really leave me:
this is my love.
when you are gone, my eyes sometimes forget you-
but my heart does not.
An Everlasting RequiemPale white skin.
Your auburn hair in locks.
Eyes as bright as jade-stones.
Body scarred, they say, it’s broken.
But I could only see your perfection.
At peace you are, for so long.
Yet I cannot sleep.
I feel like you have faded now,
You are so beautiful.
Have you moved, are you near to me?
The questions only linger.
We used to play,
And watch the sights,
The world was ours to borrow.
But you were done years ago, when things first turned sour.
I only wish that I had seen- so that I could return your smile.
Where are you now?
After all this time.
The seasons change without you.
But you are gone, and I remain here now.
Everything is cold.
For you, I’ll cling forever,
I could never hold another.
To breathe their scent or touch their hand,
Would only be betrayal.
For you I’ll stay forever,
I’ll grow old, and perish, in time.
For you I’ll wait forever,
Yet I know I’ll die alone.
Unrequited LoveJust think of me.
Text me good morning and good night.
Text me at lunch just to let me know you're alright.
Wish me a good nap around five or six.
And if you're every bored just give me a call.
I'll make you a fangirl no matter what.
Even if you never admit it I'll let you off.
Meet up with me every now and then.
Never end a conversation with just goodnight or goodbye.
Ask questions and explore life with me.
Support me but don't try to fix me.
Even though I'll try to fix you.
But first I need this dream to come true...
I Dream of WolverinesAn alabaster calla lily blooms out of my belly button,
I pull on its vines to remove its roots,
but I only end up more tightly wound
in ribbons of green and of sorrow,
and now I'm sleeping more than I wake,
because I dream of wolverines, long dresses,
and old buildings collapsing like old people,
I can't look away nor can I open my nighttime eyes,
I live in a world of hedonistic passion,
one where we consume salamander hearts
just as much as we consume each other.
Genghis Whenever we were bad my mother used to take us to the mall to see Genghis Kahn. They kept him in a dusty diorama of a Mongolian steppe, all tall grass and yurts. He sat on a throne of bone (well, plastic shaped like bone), scowling in incomprehension at the American kids who flocked around him like startled lemmings. My mother would usually push us toward him, saying things like “Tell him what you did to your father’s stamp collection.” Genghis would give a grunt, spit a wad of phlegm onto the tall grass, and give us a wizened, wrinkled grimace, as if he had to go to the bathroom.
He terrified me.
My brother couldn’t get enough of him.
When my brother got caught in my mother’s evening dress, my mother grabbed us both and dragged us to Genghis. It was a slow day, and we were the only kids crowding him. “Tell him what you did,” my mother hissed a
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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