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saccharineshe’s made of cotton candy:
spin, twirl, break, then dissolve.
sugar rushes through her veins,
viscous, arteries clogging
from the buildup. her eyes are filmy
and she leaves a sticky residue
wherever she touches. many
find her a delight but she rarely stays
for long, her presence disappears
as their lips forget her name,
their tongues forget her taste.
she starts everywhere and ends
nowhere. parents warn their children:
stay away, she’ll make your teeth rot.
yet they persistently return
with their nickels and dimes,
insisting on just one more taste.
seasonal reflectionsi. autumn arrived with a reckoning,
the pine cones held secrets and they’d whisper
to me in the night as their sweet wood hands fell
to the ground; i tasted maple honey
while sticky fingers scraped bark
that screamed sweetly to the sunset
ii. winter came slowly, timberland
freeze and peppermint icicle swirls
on frosted puddles as cold as Siberian igloos,
Eskimo girls in bear skin hats and leather gloves;
i was never one of them but i heard
they breathe out steam in glacial time
iii. spring bloomed and so did the bruises,
black and blue like Van Gogh’s starry
night, minus the stars; my teeth grew crooked
as wildflower veins and my hair sprouted
like meadow grass, i pretended i was a coppice
nymph and at dusk i sang with the cicadas
iv. summer sought the hidden gardens,
the scorched earth cultivated secrets in barren
soil, foolish, i dug for the answers but uprooted
only last year’s seeds, tore the foundation down
with broken nails; i danced with honey feet on
It’s been a year and I can still remember waking up, disoriented and alone. You were my compass, and you left. I don’t quite know how, but I’ve managed to make my own way without you. And it hurts. God, it hurts. Sometimes I wonder where you are and what you’re doing and who are you with? Are you with someone else? Are you with him? I know you won’t ever receive this letter, that the postal service will realize how hopeless these efforts of sending this are, but I can’t help myself. I can’t help that I still think about the way your lips fit perfectly with mine or how right it felt to be with you. I know that this message will end up as one of thousands of others in the dead letter office but maybe, just maybe, it will reach you.
Six months and four days: that’s how long it’s been since he has sent the letter. He lives in New York City, in an apartment that he still has yet to pay
Theological Semanticswe are on vacation in Florida
when she asks me, “what is God?”
and i correct her, “who is God?”
and she shakes her head, repeats
“what is God?”
the sea sounds fill the gap.
i can see a storm roll in
over the ocean expanse
and i take a breath and answer:
God is all of the things that can’t be explained
with recitations and verses.
God is the space that empties itself to tangibility
and the ghosts that scream in the wind.
God is the meaning between the breaths and last night’s
whiskey running through your veins.
God is the reflection in your eyes and the mist exhaled
into January nights that evaporates under the moon.
God is the sounds too high to hear, frequencies
not meant for humanity because we would misinterpret.
God is all of the pasts that never were and all of the
futures that will never come to be.
“does that answer your question?”
and the sea washes
away our footprints
The Eventual Give and TakeI can always tell when I’m pushing you over the edge, and I want to stop, I do. I want to close the wounds I’ve opened, to patch you up with dollar store bandages so you will no longer bleed sorrow. I want to make it okay. I want your eyes to shine like the stars you capture and your smile to reflect sincerely when you look in the mirror. I want to please you and I want to unburden the weight I put on your shoulders. I want you to be joyful, but not happy, because happiness can be washed away as quickly as sand is pulled back into the sea. I want to be your escape, not your prison. So give me the key, and I’ll lock it away with all of the other things that I want.
My dear, what you lack in understanding you make up for in insolence. You have never come close to pushing me over the edge. You have never made me bleed sorrow. I may appear to break and bend to the whims of your subconscious desires but remember: an ounce of advice makes for a wealth of p
The DregsThere are kids killing
themselves on concrete
beneath flickering street lamps
that watch over the city like
and T.J. Eckleburg would
shake his head,
lost in the urban sprawl
of the future eating the
past. They are
trying on tongues
under clouded moonlight,
for mother, madre, mére,
ahm, abatyse, äiti,
but stumbling over strange
vowels and unfamiliar
consonants because their
teeth are stained from
too-hot coffee and a
of fluoride. Caffeine
overload, synapse electric,
a metropolis made hectic
by layered skyscrapers
clawing at the sun, shadows
casted over the neighborhoods
no one speaks about
How to Ride a HorseBecause he’s kicked you
assert your dominance
Lead him to the mounting block
Climb atop his back
Let him feel
your weight before
you squeeze his belly
Take the reins
between your fingers
to the ring
Warm him up
with repetitive circles
Before you point
him towards the jump
urge him to a canter
as you fly through
the air and land
Straighten up— don’t
untitledthere was once a girl
who lived on the edge
and swallowed razors
as her morning medication.
she learned to love
only through heartache
and ate sunshine to hide
the darkness that was
creeping up her throat.
in the night she would
walk out into the
oak trees off Old Richmond,
trapping fireflies in mason
jars to watch their light
die as the sun rose. she
swore one day she’d punch
Sammy Wells in the gut
but first she’d need a hit.
she’d listen to 106.3
on the radio but have
a sonata of screams
resounding in her skull. she
fell in love with names
more than people and
she would always find
her hands dirty, ink smudge
un-erasable from all of
the times she’d bruised
the paper. she learnt
that separating the flame
from the candle would
burn down the house,
singe to the ground
the bones from her child-
hood and maybe that’s
what she wanted, and
people whisper what a
shame we’ll never
know, because her
mind was lost long before
her name was corroded
from the gr
UntitledOn a calendar in a dark and musty room there was a red circle drawn around the 17th of April and a man with a vengeance. And that's how it began.
The planning stage was long and meticulous, but oh, he planned it perfectly. Three months of stake-outs, a peg board filled with detailed travel routes, and the slow collecting of necessary materials (which in fact were simple but needed precision): a two inch woven hemp rope, a stainless steel cut clip blade, and a pair of standard surgical gloves. Not a ski mask, though. He wanted his face to be her final impression.
Every Saturday, she would go to the grocery to purchase next week's meals. Andrew at the cash register would walk her out to the car with a smitten smile and she would smile back. She would smile back and Andrew would blush until she let him into her car, into her house, and into her bed. He could hear them fucking the first time but since he's brought ear plugs to accompany his binoculars. He was always a better visual learner
Just For YouJust for you,
A poisoned rose.
Breathe it in,
The fatal fragrance.
Just for you,
A poisoned apple.
Take a bite,
And fall down senseless.
Just for you,
A deadly needle.
Just one prick,
Just for you,
An enchanted dagger.
Take a stab,
A human no longer.
Just for you,
A golden shoe.
Slip it on,
And watch it bleed.
Just for you,
A crimson hood.
Put it on,
And get devoured.
Just for you,
A golden key.
Use it once,
Your fate is sealed.
Soon You Will Have Peace Forever
People live to be alive.
The dead die because they leave.
Not because they should go now,
But because they want it so.
Life was beautiful, like the sea,
Yet hatred repressed it very much again.
With mighty wings comes the angel,
Explains life’s mistakes and lacks
Until you stop confronting the life
And you want only your peace.
He leads you away with Black Guard,
Away in your huge coffin,
Takes you to the realm of the dead,
Your body, your soul and your mind.
You have called for him and now he is here,
The angel of death as your courier.
Spares you your grief and your pain
And let you brag of your future.
The past – the life – already forgotten,
You have to compete with the death now.
Now, you stand there in the dark of the night,
Christmas snowflakes dancing around you.
“Did I want to die?” – “Why am I here?”
I can tell you, life was hard.
Slowly you become tired and you get very weak.
Now, you are not awake any longer.
Finally, it is th
LifeWe walk the road paved by the moonlight
Safe from what we can’t see
What can’t we see?
The pain, the death
The horrors of the dark
The warmth, the soul
The hope we will return to live again.
Love and CupcakesCupcakes are perfect.
More orderly than cake.
No one complains that they
Didn't get the big piece
When it's all nicely compacted
In a tiny paper cup.
So artful and
Sweet, perfect for friendship or
So of course it was perfect
If not more than he deserved
For him to die
With the cupcake on his breath.
He was just like many
In the news after years
The face of abuse
Dragging them along like
Helpless rag dolls.
Their faces were sunken their
Bruises showed and
Everyone noticed but
No one asked.
He smiled ordinarily as
He ordered from me while
They in their fear hid
Behind his massive shadow.
Why one like him was
Questionable but I did notice
That he ordered
One chance to change it all.
I smiled very wide and
Said that I'd be back.
And as I retrieved his order I
Chose a cupcake
And spare ingredient.
I handed it to him and
He paid and huffed as though
I couldn't touch him.
The secret, of course, is love.
I watched as he c
JuneAll dead and gone like the spring flowers
Withered and crushed by June
A glass tear fell from my eyes and shattered on your cheek
Tearing a hole into your fragile skin
A maggot crawled out and fell onto my skirt
I kissed your parched lips
And tangled my shaking hands into your soft hair
Leaving an imprint in your skull
I rested my weary head on your chest
And heard nothing in the hollow cage called your heart
My fingernail snagged on your stomach
Spilling the rotting contents like desperate butterflies
So eager to get out, but drenched in the cold fluids
I wonder what your dreams would say
When they realize I couldn't carry you to the grave
Because you withered and collapsed before June.
SustainBare your bleeding heart to the world baby
With dripping veins of violet poison
Love, I promise I will tear you apart
Teeth gnashing and shredding transparent skin
Such stunning eyes of heartbreak red
They shimmer and glow under pale moonlight
Do you wish that you were dead instead
As toxic thorns stab at your lungs
Heave your splintered ribs in your chest cavity
Feel them shift into your shattered glass soul
Tell me you taste death on my tongue
Because darling I'm ending the charades tonight
I can hear the hope in your thoughts as it spirals
Cracked fingernails reaching out to clutch it close
Manipulation, fall victim to the sound of this song
Dance with your head on the ground sweetheart
The fact you've endured me so long is unnerving.
horrorhis tongue spits venom into my trembling bird bones-
whittles away from the inside out, progressing
intangibility to insomnia, hush dear and-
sleep, a hesitant rung above unconsciousness,
a land that none wish to dwell for
too long, fairytale monsters and twisted
whispers intertwine with synapses, leaving me
writhing and shaking and finished:
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More