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1:33 amto the angry young
hungry ocean eyes:
i do not wish to know
what crawled inside
your ribs to
i just wish you would
let it leave.
spiders and flieswe are not children
who pinwheel through my mother’s garden,
who blur reality before we’ve even known the bliss.
we are not children who forgive easily
(like hearts aren’t robin eggs)
or who’ve never tasted the assurance from pinkies
and rattle-sore lips. and our sandcastles?
they will not house rapunzel but tumble before the sea.
It will not remember our footprints.
we are not children, though we may wish
to turn time like the three stirs in exciting, grown-up coffee,
like daylight on my father’s old clock, the one that
ended days too quickly
because we made chameleons of feasted lamb skins,
(because time was stolen, and time was precious),
and as hard as it is, we must adapt:
make-up masks and push up bras, to appear
inexperienced, but desiring, of a pleasure,
because although we’re deceiving, we can’t dream of blending.
You should know best of all,
that after everything, we couldn’t.
a poem about too many people and too much heart.you were my
conclusion- the last paragraph
and the last thing
i got to say.
i loved you and i
took words from
between my eyelashes and i
put them down for
you, i took you apart
a million times
in my mind and always put you
and i drew
you, soft and silhouetted
window, the pane
foggy and i thought of you
in the darkest of
times, because i kept telling myself
that you were the
light (like you
i know that i am just
a girl with
too much heart and
too weak of ribs; but
i was hoping
that you would help the foxes
hunt the hounds, just for
.there are snakes
in coils from me
and green, their mouths
dark fanged caverns
black eyes glittering
they see -
that mother tongue
that they know
i cannot speak
(if you can touch it, you can kill it, you can dream)
celeste's notion She likes to ravage poetry;
destroy it as it falls off
the tip of her tongue, along
with the poison in her veins.
She likes to devour words
like death, consuming life;
like a kiss that claims the soul.
She likes to funnel frustration
into a lullaby, into a stanza;
she likes to coalesce contradictions –
"hurt" with "harmony"
"scream" with "sigh"
"insult" with "inspire"
because it's all the same to her;
She likes to caress literature
with her lips, with the slight
whorls and spirals in her fingers;
intoxicating and intimate and
the slightest bit innocent.
She likes to feel seraphic;
feel powerful and godly in a world
an introduction to Neverland.this is the story of
with short skirts and
stuck in a place
with white walls and
KitchenYour mother wants to know
if you've had anything for breakfast
and the way she talks splits through you
like an axe in a melon, nervous
like she's talking to a man with blood
that stains his teeth. And the kettle sings,
too loud, that ugly old whee-oh-whee
that makes you feel like a poet or a
native, nervous wreck, a girl dragging
her toes and drawling
as she snaps a cat's
neck. She asks you again, more
impatient this time because you are
the kind of person that is hard
to put up with, the kind of person
that never begins to listen, and there is
a beating heart sewn into the back of
your head where your hair meets
like a cleaved moon in the middle.
The stitches hurt and the room is
frightening and sad as you pick
yourself free with your nails,
wishing the pulse would give out.
cross our paths
for their effects
every poem begins with sometimes
every dream begins with maybe
Short PoemHer eyes return my gaze,
A gentle “Hello” at first glance.
Those chocolate brown coloured eyes,
So full of love and compassion.
Without a sound from my lips,
A solitary cry escapes.
Her serene marble-like stare,
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More