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A lifetime fills my ears and echoes all away. I salvage all my tears and never find the way. I creep along my path, my eyes ablur with sorrow; I taint my aftermath, I taint my every morrow. I watch my fingers shine with good, cold, stinging blood; I watch and I resign, I watch and watch the flood. 11.29.00 ~ ~ ~ Venus Fly Trap There is a crevice within me where souls lay trapped. Each word spoken, each emotion expressed, each dream uncovered, drunken into me, creating a footprint in my life, in my heart, in my soul, in my mind. 11.30.00 ~ ~ ~ Inquisition Rabid lone wolf, who will lick your wounds inflicted by the allies in your pack? How do you bleed, that your crimson stream is a boomarang? Brooding eyes throw daggers that faithful ones do catch. Will you throw your daggers by their blade? Will they mock your flowing blood? Will you mistake your pack for a mirror? O lone wolf, drown in blood and foam, where do you roam with your library paws? How do you howl, and scream, and whine, while pierced with snow? Why do I ask such things. I am your successor. I know you. I feel you. I am you. 11.30.00 ~ ~ ~ Ice And Ice Ice and ice and nineteen strikes for peers and fears and dreams unclear. Glimmer of sun, glower of moon; your high of fun will die out soon. Half shaded hearts been torn apart, the full half to the other side. Valentine card high ride. "I give up!" shouts the man of the counsel with the truth lust (lost). "I had it when I came in," smirked the bold-faced liar. Whether the weather is light as a feather or favors the Heather is of no concern to the stiff and the tough, the right men who bluff, who deliver the cuff to the indian burn. Killing the griffin on a difficult day is easy as a notebook to play. The classroom was docile and full of fish, squirming occasionally with a dying (deadly) wish. She spread her legs under the table. What did she want from me? Find your spine, little girl, you'll need it when the police come and drag your jeans away. Throw away your eyes. I will keep mine. I need them only to write. A parallel of heads on wooden slabs delicately waiting to be severed (born). Bubbles bubble. Dreamers dream. Lovers - lust. Writers conspire. "Off with his head!" mimicked the parrot on my side of the story. "Off with his head and into his bed for a few moments of glory." Platform shoes on avenues fighting for the pyre. Evening blues and pity news roasting in the fire. Longing eyes hide in the wall for me. For me? No. For the afternoon tea. I am the key with the lockless door. 11.30.00 ~ ~ ~ Siren's Call We keep ourselves above the water, dancing on tiptoe on a mirror that tells all truth. Do we dare stray from immaculate shore? Do we stretch to the white sand far away? We never know, we realize, capturing each droplet of a moment in a blissfully ignorant hand. O, we think of the old crone... we glance through the green telescope with shaded glasses and glimpse black death... but isn't snow as black through those lenses the same? The eyes are liquid prisons (locked up liars) and so we stay the same. So we dance, so we play, so we frolick, and we stray to our shore of silver shimmer. 12.8.00 ~ ~ ~ Yume No Ryu You course through my veins in this night of ink and thick air, hung with putrid heartbreak. You are all that remains sweet. My Dragon of Dreams, where do you stray in the desolate eve; is your mind without me? I can see the sparkle of your sleeptime orb, a blurred image in my mind. My darling - my black-haired angel of night - read me. Strip me down and read me. 1.3.01 ~ ~ ~ Untitled I keep to the hurt and the pain. I know the sweetest evening rain, singing in her murmuring fall, silent to my questioning call. Words in my penstroke avoid eyes and remain in their void, placed in my silvery box, opened under long, salty locks. I hold in a crevice of mind pictures of a moment more kind, planted then and only sown after the fae dust has blown. 1.3.01 ~ ~ ~ Rainy Day Ballad When you gave me your heart, I swallowed it. It leapt from my stomach in a butterfly trail to my organ the same to glow. And how do you deny your luster? The beauty that you call me is you bleeding through my pores. My own shimmer does not match that which you stir. I had fed from your dreams, and each spoonful was of adoration, until you were a god, a black-haired angel, an appendage sewn in place of my mind. I love you (simple enough?) I cannot thrive without the pale glow of you, my vanilla moon, my sweet shapeshifter. I cannot dance but in your rains, penetrating my earth with your soft, warm ecstacy. I cannot dream without you kissing my eyes asleep, enveloping me in sweet slumber. And how do I breathe before you fuel me in the quiet morn? You always held me for my words, I know. I wish my love to shape my lips and mist your eyes, so that I might brush the salt away. And even when you tire of my worship, I will cling to you like Christian prey to the siren and the sprite. So, my darling, my angel and god, my moon and rain, my breath and dreams... keep me tucked beneath your raven tresses until you may keep me in your arms. 1.3.01 |