Fell in love under a sycamore sky in blue Paris
with a singular woman holding shreds of bliss
between her square teeth mixed with grit,
mouth like a lemon rind, eyes dark pits.
A cocktail of singularity and strong jaws,
the streetlights hanging like gaping maws;
erased myself in absence of her touch
a heart full of wine, and grief, and such.
Sent a million love letters, tore a thousand more
forgot the stamps in hastening out the door;
the accordions of drunkards told of love,
in the trellis of the Eiffel Tower, a pair of doves.
The roses died in Versailles, the leaves fell in the cemetery,
I counted surnames and saw my own being buried;
dr
My heart is a
Lonely desert
Scorched and
Worn down-
My heart is a
Black lake
Deep with
Darkness-
My heart is a
Rocky slope
Hard and
Immovable
My heart is a
Broken vase
Sharp and
Dangerous
My heart is a
Withered vessel
filled with
Dust and pain
Harsh in my
Glares upon you
Merciless in my
Demeanor
Callous in the
Words I speak
Heartless for
Your feelings
Ruthless in my
Actions
Unforgiving to
My enemies
Unsympathetic
In my heart
When I speak to you again by PatchworkLynx, literature
Literature
When I speak to you again
This is going to sound strange but
I need to ask you if your favorite color is still blue.
I'd like to know if you still read those books
that were all the rage back then.
(I still do.)
And this is a little random but
do you remember how insanely ticklish I was?
How your jokes always made me laugh the most?
Can you recall how big the library felt to us?
How literally no one could reach the top shelves, and
how we would play a game in the hallways
skipping from tile to tile like the floor was lava?
But it's been five and a half years now,
since I turned my back on you and
walked out of that school that had been my home.
And I visited rece
Where the dreams begin by PatchworkLynx, literature
Literature
Where the dreams begin
She was tired and she was tired of sleeping in beds,
so she bunched up a blanket in her arms
and flung it upon the balcony.
The owls had better lullabies anyway—
this she had always known.
She was a cat lazing on the keys of a piano,
a girl with delicate bones stretched out on the floor,
blinking at the myrance and dawning gold.
The bedsheets were never warm like sunlight—
this she had only discovered.
catastrophes occur whenever i say it'll be okay by skullhips, literature
Literature
catastrophes occur whenever i say it'll be okay
hickies stretch from his hands to his
hips; myher name's tied around his lips
(he can't speak/breathe/gasp)
but i think he figures that his
girl back home's gonna throw
a fit, he covers his hands with
salt because of his sins and he
digs his nails deep into the teeth
(marks) underneath his skin
i love the way he doesn't care,
his summer flair and his rhyming
posse; they found their way through
me, lipsspil mirroring each other in
a rave; flash your strobe lights on
me, eyes paralyzed, i don't have
to see to know what goes on in the dark
"carbon cut teeth,"
he said,
you (don't) put the 'fun' in 'funeral' by skullhips, literature
Literature
you (don't) put the 'fun' in 'funeral'
he said i looked so elegant
in my white body bag
(i heaved in my decaying
state that i knew, rather
well, actually; he told
me that the day he said
he loved me and the day
he said goodbye)
she said that i looked
so peaceful in my ebony coffin
(through my skin, i whispered
with dying oxygen cycling
through my bones for her to
find me)