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Healer
molten drops rain down on me: warm and soothing; far too gently my pain releases in languid sighs- my body softens; my teardrops dry I'm once again left a dark believer- supplicant to you, my profane healer
LiteratureDance of the Butterflies
Endless miasma of butterflies they live in vibrancy- clouds of color frolicking in orgiastic revels; their lives so small and brief: and yet so full of life, vital life. Knowing not one bit of poverty nor labor, neither of flesh nor spirit. Only explosions of mating in ecstasy; and dancing amidst petals of lust for a life of pure pleasure.LiteratureSunburned
when I see people with their lovers it is so dazzling; like the sun- I must always turn my head and shield my blurry eyes, yet my heart still gets burnedLiteratureStardust
you are fashioned of rusted minerals crumbling to soot; the ashes of a galactic fire consuming itself; the death of an oroboros devouring its white-hot tail: you are born and made of volatile star stuff; and so shall you return unto dust.LiteratureChained
we are never truly bound nor free; left wading through this nebulous reality and though they never claimed that life wouldn't be strange I cannot wrap my head around the nature of these chainsLiteratureForsaken
sleep calls out to me neither with kindness nor care: I can hear nightmaresLiteratureFrom the Heart
I paint with many colors- violet, vermilion sunny yellow, verdant green, inky jet black for every hue my palette shall not lack and when my brush dips and drinks my waters always seem to turn to fresh pink- as if from my love, or perhaps from my blood - Literature
vacation artifact.
"Last summer I took my cell phone to the beach," she says, "and the ocean drenched it. It hasn't worked since then." She's messy, truly, a dead battery, a gauge hovering on empty. I tell her to call the phone company, get a back up or refund or some other nonsense. She sighs (her lips didn't move). For a moment I think she's going to push me away again, film up like ankle-cutting sea glass. "I can't replace it. I'll lose the last text message he ever sent me." I fall quiet because I know. Today I see the cell phone, coldLiteratureInnocence
Angel wings cast quite dark shadows.Literaturefamily portrait.
Your family tree simply grew this way. Your mother’s tongue cut throats as well as stone walls, but it never reached your skin. You considered this a blessing, failing to account for the million praises you never heard. Since the moment you were born, she struggled to separate your face from her morning coffee. She lived in a slow blur and you were an alert inconvenience. Nearly every morning she faded through the kitchen and living room, reciting old sorrows to herself while you wondered what you had done to confuse her. Sometimes she remembered to kiss you goodnight. Other times she pretended you didn’t exist when you cried foLiteratureA Robot Love Poem
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I would gather all the seven seas for you. for me, you would not spare a raindrop.Literatureair.
he's asthmatic and when we kiss, he says it leaves him breathless, quite literally. sometimes love is just two awkward kids reminding each other to breathe, and sometimes that's all you need.Literaturelonging
"I miss you." "I miss you, too." "How long has it been?" "Only a week. How's the internship?" "Boring, but I'm learning a lot. I want to come home. I miss you." "Is the weather in Phoenix nice?" "No, it's too hot. I miss you." "Are you having fun, at least?" "Not really. I miss you." "I miss you, too, but I thought we already established that." "I know. It just...feels like half of my body is back home, sleeping in bed next to you." "I just looked under the covers. Nothing's there, I promise." "You know what I meant." "You're right, I do. I'll let you in on a secret, though." "Shoot." "I'll be gone one day, and you'll be alone.
