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TEN PILLSThe first pill
The normal dose
Enough to take the edge off of everyday life
Enough to satisfy the demons from ripping me apart from the inside out
But the thing about demons is, they are greedy
Eventually they want more
The second pill
Just a little extra to try and sooth this broken heart
See, when you left me, my world crumbled into little pieces of memories
They slowly fell like ashes in a nuclear winter
The third pill
The demons want more
Your love for me was the barrier holding them back
Now that your gone, the damn has broke
Demons are poring in like millions of mindless zombies searching for a life to devour
And it seems they have found one
The fourth pill
You… my angel
My soothing light shining through a hole in my black canvas of life
has given up on me
I can’t see the hole anymore
The light is gone
My way out is no longer visible
I’m in darkness
The fifth pill
Fuck it, lets keep going!
The sixth pill
This one is for every time I could feel you fucking him
Upon My Last BreathIs the loss of love worth gaining death?
I ask this question upon my last breath
As the pulse of life fades to dark
Peace arises in this tortured heart
Confessing weakness in my cowardly choice
The pain is gone as I hear your voice
Depression is lost as I see your face
I close my eyes and feel your embrace
So warm, so comforting, this moment of bliss
Everything fades as I feel your last kiss
Although I know you're really not there
I leave with a smile in this moment we share
Is the loss of love worth gaining death?
I answer with "yes" upon my last breath
Rise of the unspoken words,
Filling your head.
They burst into existence,
In the form of emotional combat.
Hints are subtle.
Allegations are stirring.
Assumptions are vibrant.
What's left to be known?
Everything that was never said.
A Conversation PieceThe old gas lamp juts out from the living room wall
Empty of life, empty of its purpose,
Original in its old, ornate shades of antiquity
Clashing with the new color, concealing the walls age
The lamp stays so silent, so still, with its story so secret
Its old soul lines its way through the house.
What has it seen?
What moments has it put its light upon?
What shadows has it cast on opposing walls?
What tears have glimmered in its lively glow?
What did it look like with its spirit illuminating the night?
This new age may never know,
For its only use now…
Is a conversation piece
One Last TimeMy soul is now alone.
Diminished to a point of then and now.
I no longer feel your fervent touch.
I no longer can enjoy the
Delicate breeze of your breath on my chest
As we lay awake at night.
I no longer smell the scent of your hair
As it lingers in the air when you walk by. My eyes
No longer gaze at your beauty.
I glance to nowhere, hoping
To see you one last time.
One last time is all I wanted, in hopes
It will make you change your mind.
One last time, to make your soul blind with love.
To make it so my soul is whole again.
No longer with you, is the thought I must bare.
One last time is a dream I must let go.
Shattered, My Tortured HeartShattered
By the still, crisp, words.
They rattle silently in my
Mind. Conjured by the truth,
I wish was a lie. Deceived by
The closeness. Now hatred
Flows, like an avalanche crushing
Helpless hearts. Drugged by the
Past, pleasured by perfect lies.
Love hardens to a cold steel blade,
But it can't cut the
Tension that tourniquets
My tortured heart.
Nothing to FearAs black as a moonless night,
Is the color that caresses its skin,
Lime green eyes opened wide
Pierce through the paralyzing dark,
Like two holes punched in a curtain trying to hide the day.
Wearing a coat that shimmers and shines in the ambient light,
You can only see a reflection of its movement.
Claws made to tear flesh from fearing souls.
Porcelain white teeth ready to rip skin from bones,
Inviting the stains of blood from the bleeding.
Capable of a hiss that could put fear in the face of death.
As silent as a bludgeoned prayer laying in its grave
Ready to pounce on its powerless prey,
Fearless of reality, so aware of its surroundings,
And as I turn on the light, I hear it speak...
The WhisperHe slowly leans in towards her
He brushes her hair behind her ear
So he can get a better view of her beauty
He looks into her eyes and pauses
Just long enough for her to wonder what's about to happen
He leans in for a kiss
But he only brushes by her lips
He continues towards her ear
She feels his delicate breath on her cheek
Then he whispers in the ear he so thoughtfully exposed
"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen"
She melts and is now his to have
SuffocateYour finger's bent and broken
Now it's pointing at yourself
But you look behind you
As if it's pointing to someone else
The mirror you gaze in
Is smeared with tears
It distorts your beauty
And shows you what's really inside
But you close your eyes
You smile so brightly
But your breath has the scent
Of the heart you chewed up and spit out
But you ignore the stench
Your words are loud
But the hate behind them is louder
So you plug your ears so you can't hear it
Your soul is massive
But you burry love with the dirt inside it
And walk away as love slowly suffocates
You should acknowledge that your finger points back at you
You should open your eyes when you look in the mirror
You should stop ignoring the stench of your breath behind that smile
You should unplug your ears and listen to your words
Then you should burry yourself
With the dirt that's in your soul
And I will walk away as you suffocate
Just as you did with the love that I gave to you
HauntedI see her there with
Coal dust carved
Into the icy skin
Under her eyes,
And on her lips
Dance a chorus
Of bitter lies.
A skeletal hand of smoke
Claws at my neck
Until I bleed;
She tells me that the pain
Is just what I need.
And her blood
Zooms in her veins
Like speeding cars.
She looks at me
At what I am.
She’s a snake,
In the guise
Of a lamb.
‘What happened to us?’
Of what I used to be.
‘I may be you,
But you are not me.’
The sun comes up:
Yesterday is gone
But see it this way;
The past is part of the future
But the future isn’t the past.
You choose which bits go,
You choose which bits last.
How to love a poet: Expect them to be flawed,
a field of wild flowered-
& an inability
Love them anyway.
Know that when they look at you
they are noticing the little things.
lost my voice.I wrote "I love you"
in the sand at the beach.
The tide swallowed the words
and drowned them
before I could speak.
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
Loving A Guy Who Cannot Love Himself.Firstly, tell him that he doesn't necessarily need to be the “strongest” man in the world,
that if he cries, you won't look down on him for it,
that you won't call him weak.
Tell him that he doesn't have to like sports, or fishing, or football, or any of the “mainstream” things that boys are “supposed” to like.
Let him know that liking art, or dancing, or singing or acting doesn't make him gay, doesn’t make him any less of a man, it just makes him who he is.
A human being.
And for goodness sakes, tell him that blue does not have to be his favorite color, than he can indulge in pink, or purple or even magenta!
And to the girl who take on the task, remember please, that it is not always the Knight who saves the Princess.
No, this time, the Princess may need to save the Knight.
Do not pour your problems onto him, rather, balance each other out.
Be a shoulder to cry on. A friend to be there. A love that never leaves.
Perhaps more than often,
You Ever Felt ItHave you ever felt it?
When you lay there broken
And feel yourself so guilty
Eyes gushing red
And you want to sleep in a coma
Your brain swelling with thoughts
At the same time empty with nothing
When you can't suit yourself
And see yourself a place among the demons
that moment when you control your life
The moment when you choose between life and death
And then you yourself can decide either way
It's when you're on the edge
And want someone to pull you back before you make another step
A hook, to rip all the insanity out of your body
And suck all the madness that is growing black dead trees
Have you ever felt it, have you known depression
Did you ever seek a source of help, and did you ever find it
Stream Of ConsciousnessThe promise of tomorrow
Brings nothing but neglect
Of my own self-worth.
Craving your touch is a craving
Not satisfied by a peck on the cheek,
Or a light brushing of shoulders.
My dreams remain in purgatory.
My faith in love remains sublime.
My love of life is fading with each day.
I wish for more than what you give me.
I wish for more than what I have.
I wish for more than unfulfilled thoughts
Brought on by imaginary words that
Have never been spoken.
This stream of consciousness is relentlessly
Striving to become something that greatness
Can't put a finger on.
All I know is that I want more than to look into your eyes.
I want more than just a mere thought of having you.
I want more than this overflowing, bursting, box of dreams.
Purge my pain.
Purge this impatient, impulsion to infest
You're being with kisses and love.
Purge me of wanting more.
Let's become one and see where it brings us.
Give me more
EasterRemember what you love,
you with sand in your teeth
and the feral burn of hunger
in your eyes.
God sends his regrets.
He made you grasping and slow,
in a late hour
when the wine washed low.
Remember what you love.
Fall to your knees in the toss
and the swell, quell
the appetite of the cold black sea.
Beg blessings for your home
and the salt-sick trees.
Reach what lies near:
the fat-faced child, the sweet-soft lamb;
tether the tantrum, trickle the blood.
Offer psalms to what is holy,
whisper the name of what you love
as it bobs in the bleak mad sea.
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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