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I wrote this for me. The words are for you.These words are just words, but they're like the sunrise. They're more than the dark. They're more than you say they are. They're brighter than the stars to me.
These words are just scratches on a page which was once a tree. This page is ugly now, but these words convince her that she is free. She is better than the rest though these words are scars on her bark and tears in her leaves. She bleeds black and blue ink from the bruises and the droplets don't follow the lines.
These words are just words, but when I speak them or shout them out to the universe from this mountain's inverted peak I'm free from the voices that hate and lie. Those sounds tell me that I am less than I can be, but these words prove them wrong.
These words are just words, but when I write them they are a symphony. They come together with their twisted strings to form a fucked up harmony. I don't follow the notes. I don't listen to the conductor even though I am the conductor.
These words are long car rides al
VaporI stare at the clouds from this passenger seat as you talk unrelenting, complaining, whining.
I'm listening, but I'm not. I'm hearing, but the sound flows in one ear and out the other, Even before I can process the information in the jumble of exclamations and explanations.
You notice my absent stare, though I don't mean to offend you. It's what I do best, Mom.
"What are you looking at?" You ask in a serpent's hiss. You're just like the serpent in Eden, weaving your webs of deceit.
"The clouds." I murmur and trace my hand across the window pane to feel the cold grey sky.
I outline the faded harsh lines of the sun shining through with my hazel eyes turned upward.
You're silent and I worry, but I can't look away from the floating wisps.
That vapor just waiting to be inhaled and tasted. Exhaled and destroyed.
"He's up there." You say with reverence that I don't understand.
You turn down the radio dial in hopes that I'll hear you and believe. I won't,
But I let you believe that I do. "God
This Is What I AmI am a coffin, I carry death on the inside.
Will you be there at my wake, when I rise from this velvet shell.
Only to be buried six feet under the cold, hard ground?
I am a tree in winter, baron, empty, but I only look this way. Only feel this way.
In spring I'll bloom again, but what if spring never comes.
What if snow falls forever and leaves me trapped in it's glory.
I am a dead flower returning to the place from which I was born.
I flake, I decay, I rot into mother earth and she accepts me with her open skeleton arms.
I decompose under trampling and she catches me. She tells me I once was beautiful, but I'm just dust now.
I am an empty hotel room. People walk in and I close my eyes.
I only miss them when they're gone. I only miss them when they're leaving, but
I'm always ready for the next heartache or sleepless night.
I know that both love and nightmares escalate under bed sheets and behind heavy eyelids when night claws at the walls.
I am candle wax dripping from a fl
The Clock is TickingWhen the sand melts into glass will we still be able to gaze calmly
At our reflections engraved in the ground beneath our feet;
just to avoid the eye contact of those ghosts who haunt our dreams?
Are they the same ones that keep you awake?
And when the clock ticks and you have to leave will you tie your shoe laces the same way you were taught When you were young? Those little things you never forget,
Like your first kiss with the one you thought you loved.
You'll always remember the way you look
Until you glance in the mirror for that split second and you realize that you're not in the frame.
That reflection isn't you.
Like the image in a fun house mirror, you're a monster.
Is that monster also reflected in the molten sand glass at your feet? Is that why you won't hold my gaze?
Are you keeping an eye on the monster, or are you holding in your sanity?
Am I among the ghosts who haunt your dreams?
And when the clock ticks away the hours and you lay in yo
Free From Who I Once WasSo Dark, the dawn. So dark, even illuminated by light.
Falling, she screams. Falling from the jagged height,
Fearfully leaping into the light.
So fast, the world spins. So fast, she falls into the brightness.
Warmth in the cold washes away the blood on the ground. Warmth of reborn lightness.
Her heavy heart bursts with brightness.
From the inside it shines. From inside she glows.
Singing, yes. Singing, from her throat the brightness flows.
See the luminescent life in her eyes? See it glow?
She's flying, Oh. She's flying and nothing stops her.
You just have to ask to know. Just ask the stars, I'm sure they will concur
That she has taken the dawn's light. It lives within her.
Love, Guide Me. I Don't Know The WayGive me directions to the end of the earth
And I'll give you everything else.
Will you follow me off the edge too?
Screaming over and over; "I love you, Love. I love you!"
Give me directions to the ocean's floor
And I'll show you how long I can hold my breath.
When I can wait no longer and inhale the salt water will you cry?
Will you cry and shout out; "Why, Love? Why!?"
Give me directions to your heart
And I'll give you the key to mine.
Will you hold it safely in your hands and set me free?
Will you beg me for a look inside saying; "Love, please, can I see?"
Give me directions to God's heaven
And I'll follow you there when you go.
When I reach heaven's gate will the Angels let me in?
Will they look away and tell me; "Sorry, Love, but your soul is filled with too much sin."
Give me directions to where you are
And I'll do my best to find the path.
Will you greet me with open arms or turn me away?
Will you hold me and caress me whispering; "Love, please stay."
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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