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can't breathe, at least not steadily,
paint me turquoise
or be the forest to my fire,
actually I'd rather you were nothing, at least nothing to me,
now I can feel nightfall coming upon the manifestation of a July moon,
so let's let those clouds burst and rip wide open
just as though the clouds were my organs and
the rain were my blood.
And I will Always be the MoonWe 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 that is organic, tangible, and ripe with bloody berries,
one where carnal creatures run rampant,
one where we rise from the dirt with muddy thighs
because we were bred into these earthly bodies
to hold seconds in our palms like newborn children,
and to throw our heads back and howl against the awareness that we are dying,
for oh this skin is only our host,
The Art of ForestryIf it were only appropriate to speak
of a single touch, of what it means,
of what it feels.
Our forearms graze and so I hold very still,
I never want to lose a second of
you against me.
My entire being shivers along the
shores of your skin
and all of my nerve endings are electrified
when I imagine our relationship evolving into
lilac limbs, freshly kissed lips, and
lieing next to you on rainforest floors.
We create a completely nuclear reaction,
a mixture of fusion, friction, and fascination.
So believe me when I say, oh boy I love you,
I really do,
yes, I want you so,
closer than tires upon pavement,
and like a car you turn into me,
and like a car you take me places,
you even take my daydreams to extraordinary realms
where I wake in the midst of the woods,
the air is slick and crisp
and I can feel your muddy, autumn hands
dancing along my flaking, fir tree flesh,
the dirt runs damp between our toes
and we become nothing but creatures of the forest;
living off each other's lo
The FuneralHolding hands,
throwing roses over a pearlescent casket
bathed in baby pink,
who knew death could be so feminine,
but funeral hymns plague the fragile air
while the graveyard is soaking up mournful stares,
maybe a few glances of relief are exchanged like drug money,
I look around and realize how everyone looks so alive
when we are surrounded by fatality,
translucent tears spill over flushed faces,
sunken eyes mirror hollow smiles
as the reapers cling to our backs like sloths
and everything feels slow,
everything falls stagnant,
then we drink from the goblet of faith and hope
and we get drunk off the elixir of life,
the fog clears
and our skin burns gold as the sun rises against our withered hides,
we can still feel the warmth which means we must still be alive,
so we don't move on but we do move forward
with our ancestors ghosts living within our hearts,
whispering in our ears,
and guiding us into the light.
cratersI like to think that over this past year you've come to understand
that my heart is a cratered sun
and my veins make up constellations across my vulnerable vertebrae,
because when I close my eyes,
it's you that my subconscious summons as I sleep,
There's just something about you that completely electrifies my skin,
your touch draws conclusions between the freckles on my forearms
and I'm left wondering how you even connected the dots,
But you make me nervous in a young kind of way
and there's this fragile sense of longing that I'm not quite sure i understand,
although tonight I could feel your laugh settle between my palms like a lost lamb
and for a moment I let your innocence brush over my fingertips
and it felt like that moment was ours and ours alone,
So let's hold onto railroads
like we're about to be run over,
and let's hold onto candles
until our waxen limbs burn down to the wick,
and let's hold onto each other
while the stars drip down over our shoulders to melt away our sins.
I'm Not Ready to Let GoYour fingertips carve melodies into my songbird skin,
carbonizing my charcoal bones
so I can write sonnets on the sidewalk
with the ends of my chalky joints.
Oh how your grazing hands
Your propane eyes
burn me up,
your toothy smile
ties me down.
I hold my breath
because these moments are fragile
as they are finite,
and I close my eyes
because love shouldn't be this ugly
or this hard to find.
i want you because i shouldn't want you at alli want you like i want succulent strawberries dripping over a white lacy dress,
i want you like i want complete silence on a sweltering august night,
i want you like it's dead rats melting over hot gutters and then it's your hot guts on my body.
i want you and your collarbones tied to my strings of saliva,
i want you smelling like you're some wild wolverine with incisors as sharp as rose petals,
i want you broken and bleeding just so i can nourish your wounds.
i want you dangerously close and always so,
i want you angry as you are passionate,
i want you in ways i don't even understand.
CrispTell me you love me
the way you love the sky when it rains.
Would that be a lie?
Then move on, move away,
let my clouds thunder
and my blood pour,
I am sick of this weather
but I'm even more sick of you;
diseased with a molding horizon
dancing along my hips,
I am ready for winter
so let it snow, bitch.
We Are But HumansWe imagined our bodies
Were made of strong stone.
But deeper searching proved
We are but skin and bone.
We imagined our souls
Were made of virtue within.
But closer digging proved
We are but remorse and chagrin.
We imagined our hearts
Were made of a flower bud,
But closer analyzing proved
We are but muscle and blood.
We imagined ourselves
Were made of truth and love.
But closer inspection proved
We are but all the above.
I miss you, and i can't say i'm sorry
because these slender, spider fingers
ache to trace the curved letters of your name tag,
emily. i notice you write everything in caps.
( have i ever told you
how much i enjoy saying your name, -EMILY. )
you are screaming to the world, quietly.
but we, we are mid-morning whispers
over stale, back room coffee,
silent eyes, and window pane love.
these hearts were runaways once;
hitchhikers on a trail to nowhere.
you shared pieces of yourself with me then,
emily, between beats and bathroom stalls.
you were a gargoyle under the heat
of july summer. evenings were our playground;
rose garden beasts lingering in feverish night.
little white liestissue paper skin and barbed wire spines
"i haven't been sleeping well."
butterfly wing smiles and porcelain bones
"the medicine will help."
sparrow hearts and rose petal hair
undersea eyes and sailboat stomachs
"these things pass in time."
Summers Lost god died today. or maybe it was tomorrow. i can't remember.
to sewer lines:
like a wish
on a dead star.
the feeling of gritted teeth
and fingers crossed
until they break.
like a scalpel
and a brick wall
against my throat.
and i was
when i said,
swallowing cinder blocks;
stuffing steel under skin.
on my cheek,
like book pages:
"where have you been?"
the little things.The night caves in.
there are no more pretty words on my lips.
the stars fall like planes in a tailspin.
and there is no more beauty in my pen,
only the self-loathing that shadows my mind and the blade on my skin.
and he's seafoam in the drain,
as out of place here as the seashells inhabiting the dresser in my room.
its not poetry anymore,
and the pain in my chest is so real i can taste it like cold steel.
his toes at the edge of the precipice as he burns the night down. your lungs are filled with flour and your eyes with ashes.
its the little things that break you.
so i'll swallow the emptiness inside like a bitter medicine. bite my cheeks until they bleed out my insecurities. i'm rotting from the inside out, but i can't let them know it.
too afraid if i set the rot free it will destroy me completely.
but maybe its already destroyed me.
the acid in my veins has laid me bare and defenseless. the bile and unborn words in my che
the ocean doesn't comfort me like it shouldthe water looked like angry
hands, clawing at the sand
and the wind screamed
like an angry voice i couldn't hear
and the seagulls didn't dare
and my lungs, i think,
froze a little bit
because the stormy sea and
the screaming wind and your voice
the desperate waves
and your fingers
i went to the ocean the day you left
and all i could see was you.
So I amI feel dead
and the tree outside my window,
says I am,
so I must be.
I like lillies to bloom in winter
and for the sun to live in the clouds,
so as not to burn my skin
or leave me in the cold.
This morning I forgot to breathe,
as I woke up, I choked.
It was not unpleasent,
I was just surprised.
You could not feel the moisture
on my face
as it began to rain because,
I feel dry
and the weatherman said it was,
so it must have been,
so I am.
Renewed LoveYou asked me why I never look you in the eyes
And I said to you,
"It's because I get lost in those
deep chocolate brown swirls that
you devour me in and I can never
find my way back to the surface
"It's because I like the illusion of who
let's embrace silence and dance"I don't want to talk."
do you remember our friendship? you were my best friend, you know that. we used the sticky, summer sand to have snowball fights by the water, because we both knew it would never snow in the heat. oh, and that sand hurt, but we laughed through the pain. I guess pain is meaningless when you're seven. at night we wandered down the pier and chased the lightning bugs in and out of the tide. if we were lucky enough, we could catch one. your luck was always better than mine. lighting up the shore, we kept them in jars and placed them in a circle. I gave you my grandmother's bracelet, kissed you on the cheek, blushed, and told you the gift would remind you that someone always loves you. we stayed out there all night; I can't recall many of our conversations. but just your presence in the semi-darkness was good enough for me.
do you remember when I started to fall in love with you? we were sprawled on the dock behind my overgrown backy
i am a book of blank pages.We're playing that game where we trace letters on each others backs with the ends of our fingers. So I drag my fingertips down your spine slowly, savoring every embrace. I'm drawing electric currents through each vertebrae and I can feel you twitch under my touch.
I'd like to hold your ribcage like guitar strings and play chords that echo beneath your skin. You'd sound like a long, soft lullaby that tugs at my eyelids to close so I can dream.
My dreams are the only place we can actually be together, my subconscious takes control
and it's your lampshade lips along the shadows of my feet,
then I'm spilling my shoulders like chandeliers onto your carcass
and I'm drinking in this surreal moment like wine, because it is so bittersweet.
In my conscious mind I'm lying awake at night with toothpicks propping open my eyelids
because days are tasting like stale bread and empty space
and I'm realizing that space might actually be what we need,
screw that, what we need is each other and I need you
hey newton, gravity's flawedi.
starting anew from the flutter
and the sputter of lungs.
a vacant sea filled with feathers
and tumultuous clatter,
ribs in a treacherous pattern
resembling exiting rungs.
i want to wrestle the angels,
your tendency is the ladder.
involved with full indiscretion,
trading lazy for lace.
unspool the curse of the long-
limbs in a languorous flexion
i like the stab of the ankles,
you need the curves intersected.
opting to cull my extents
with trans-dimensional vigor.
spent my dysphoric corrections
on reconnecting lax ends.
lips in a spurious accent
feign a passionate rigor.
i tie myself to the anchor,
you extricate and ascend.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More