rubber feelingand you...rubber feeling by breathingglassstars
succubus tongue, thistle jaw,
you break teeth
in, lashes straight rods
fanning outward, forehead drawing
lines to match mine.
gazing, looking for the answer
to whether you feel me
between your lungs somewhere.
i want to grow big in that warm glow
you splash from your pupils
but my eyes grow dim, distant,
paling, bothered by shade, small,
wishing for enough space inside my
cavern walls, wet caves, bat-filled.
the ghosts of another's fingers crest
the notches of your backbone still--
she's here, even when i prove i'm here.
i'm here, begging "look in me"
and find exactly what you're fishing
for; battered girl on tile floor,
imagined bleach stains,
pale blood eyes and damp smell.
you will discover me soon,
understand behind wide-eyed
tenderness i am
weepy, crooked, desperate
for a thing called "love"--
that limp word i carried
in summer like a dead carcass
in my arms--
back before i knew your name.
old oak eyes
before a ne
backwardswe're back in delicate city drinking raspberry lattes like it's summer and nothing ever happened. your mother let you come outside to smell the yellow-colored roses in shop windows and reflect over the glazed smell of baking in the morning. she doesn't know i'm here. we sit on benches and chain smoke virginia slims like pastors' wives.backwards by breathingglassstars
"where've you been?" i ask you.
"busy, i guess. hardly seeing anyone. but look, i'm progressing. i want you to know that."
raspberry, sticky-sweet, drips down our throats. it's been forever, lifetimes almost, since you first turned on me, tried hitting me like i was the reason you were suffering. the flash of your red-flamed face looms in memory. my heartbeats run faster.
"what did they do to you?"
"gave me lots of sedatives. took me into rooms when i got too riled up about something. calmed me down by zonking me out into this half-sleeping state all the time. it worked, i guess. i don't feel so much anymore. nothing gets through. but look, look, i am...
coals die downquite mysterious, i'mcoals die down by breathingglassstars
suddenly driven mad by
the harsh lines of your brow bone
and the shelf of your collarbone.
on wednesdays, i wake up
over you like dead water
sticky with mosquitoes on those
moonless nights when we're
conscious of penetrating darkness,
when our whispers mix and we're
forced into oblivion selected
by celestial cycles. sleep.
so i wander to your eyelids
and let my gaze sweep like full-moon
hands and fall back asleep, lifted
up by the drawing of your breath.
i am growing oldfinding sequences of afternoons where i'mi am growing old by breathingglassstars
fumbling around in a dark gray room
trying to uncover pathways never
opened in me, grown from patches
of organic cells to give me home,
let other people waste me away on
summer sunday, 3 p.m. when nothing's happening.
i try to explore cavities, opening
myself up for light to burn and allow
nostalgia to weep from empty wounds
almost like tears or rain.
and then all the pieces of me
will evaporate cleanly like freckles
lifted from skin after winter shows.
i peel myself from cold tiles
covered in daisies, i remind myself
of the way bodies should work
like machines in the nighttime
and docile animals in the morning
when the sun won't stop for anyone.
we don't remember the passage
of time as each second wastes,
forgotten, another moment gone
as it blooms inside my head and dies,
this action, this moment before the dark
with lights carelessly going out,
has meaning only to me, for
moments leave me powerless, whimpering
HazardStrands of hairHazard by Iniquitire
falling like black rain,
leaking down the white curves
until you resurface.
watery through your nostrils,
gagging on your insecurities,
breathing through scotch molecules.
I'm no chemist,
but you're a gas to me,
and I like watching your smoke
lungs evaporate from my lips.
I understand, darling.
I'm holding you,
only so you can whisper to me
secrets to bliss.
"needles without threads" and
"extra sized teaspoon-fulls" and then
"rolled paper with flames".
Happiness...from the kitchen cabinets.
Truthful aislesYou ask me why I writeTruthful aisles by Iniquitire
with my heart in one palm
and an exploded pen in the other.
But you like the way my fingerprints
leave patterns on the screen of your mind,
and how my arteries curl around your thoughts.
Because I'm yours and you've always known
that the minute my eyes close,
we open up
and we bloom like flowers
defying snow blankets
and sleep when we fall in cool Autumn air.
And I enjoy calling your eyes 'blue fireflies';
lighting up the hallways in my mind
that you say will become petal covered aisles
I enjoy calling you mine;
the one fact that hits me at 12am.
"One day is over, another is here...and I'm still yours"
World Fusioni'm not asking for the moonWorld Fusion by darkfeatheredwings
just touch me.
i know we'll shatter like planets colliding
your secrets blanket my skin
my smile cradles your memories
time is never a factor
[not for us]
they say we must be in love
they say we must be young
they say too much
[it means too little]
my freckles line your veins
your blood swells my cheeks
distance is never a factor