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Literature
summer is the season for lovers,
I looked at him and i saw
The fog of dawn after a rainy night and
Peaches in the peak of summer
Sun-kissed skin at noonday and
Long drives with the windows down
He is the heat in the middle of june and
The fire blooming by the end of july
Summer always seems to be the season for love and secrecy
Maybe its the intensity of sun or the humidity or
Apricots falling from baskets and blind, hungry youth
But my almost lover is Newport first thing in the morning and burned out lungs before he's twenty four
Wide eyes and passion, impatience and caution and i am
Enraptured by his insanity as it dares to match mine
(I couldnt let him go if i tried)
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Literature
last saturday
And i'll never forget how i tore down your bedroom curtains in a drunk attempt to
Let the rain fill the room
How i fumbled with the locks on the window and
The locks on you
I want you to always be
Drunk off my whiskey kisses so that maybe
You'll tell me things too
And no it wasnt the alcohol
that had me swaying and stumbling and giggling all day
It was the look you gave me
When i said i felt happy
Too
(I want to listen to the rain with you)
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Literature
the flesh and peel of citrus fruit
Yes, i need something like
him
With hands like concrete and
Breath stained by years of smoking Marlboro outside gas stations
Yes
I want something like
Crooked smiles sent my way and
Cocaine eyes heavy with europhia and desire
Yes, i want him
To control the turn of my waist and
The curve of my spine--
I want to be the meat of
Oranges for him
The flesh that is
Touched and
Torn into and
eaten
Treasured, cherished
But a discarded rind is not worth consumption once it hits the floor and
Most certainly not chosen over the ripe and sweet
I sometimes wonder which is worse;
To be eaten or discarded so frivolously by man
And yes, i know it is a
Strange thing to compare bodies to lemons and love to
Oranges
And it is strange to want to be anything for anyone
Maybe thats my problem
but
I was once the flesh of citrus until
I was but a peel left untouched
To count the days of solitude like
The hermit card in a tarot deck
And yes the pips are hard and bitter
remaining unwanted and
unbothered by it but
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Literature
What blooms in stomachs and hearts
I am
Renting bodies to
Pull the poppies from my stomach
At night
As if it'll save me
While i lie wide awake
With sand dune eyes
Trying to turn this muddy heart to
Stone
"Take what blooms here, take it all lover"
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Mature content
She bites god in the wrist :iconsurrealnacre:SurrealNacre 32 25
Literature
Love, first-hand
We dwell in the dog eared pages of
Volatile literature, of romanticism;
A trace of ink under a specific quote
A red circle around a sentence;
A laugh, feather-like; an averted gaze
“as soon as I read the first paragraph I knew it was going to be something great”
We live in the skin of old and new poets
Of fiction, of truths
Of strange plays and vignettes;
I sent you Persuasion for a reason, love
(that could be us; that might be us)
there’s nothing as chaotic as a love story written on paper
and there is nothing in this world like a writer
falling for another writer
We are the soft lips of poetry
the eye and the winds of storms--
Let me put my fingertips to the dip in your spine
trace your collarbones and map your soul
(I want to write stories on your skin
Paint gardens in your heart)
You make me think of Kafka and Keats
And
You are so much more than the husk of peanut shells
You are as vivid as watercolors;
Fluid and
Lovely
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Literature
starving hearts will eat anything, you know
and even god ought to bite me in the wrist
for using these tarnished hands to cup the moon and drink her light
for stepping on stars
for pilfering hearts and
etching marks with my tongue
on things that I don’t intend to keep
(but I was hungry, I am starving;
I need something, anything in here)
Starved hearts make for good beasts and
Desperation makes room for ugly things
One day the deathly orchids that are ingrown in me
will break through feather skin, through vein, through bone;
One day they will overtake this body and
Reduce it to carrion
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Sariatu details 2 by SurrealNacre Sariatu details 2 :iconsurrealnacre:SurrealNacre 2 0 Sariatu details by SurrealNacre Sariatu details :iconsurrealnacre:SurrealNacre 7 0 Sariatu by SurrealNacre Sariatu :iconsurrealnacre:SurrealNacre 13 2 2-18-18 by SurrealNacre
Mature content
2-18-18 :iconsurrealnacre:SurrealNacre 3 2
Literature
Misery ~ II
Misery is a menace but good god I love her
I love the way she threads her kisses into every layer of my skin
The way she opens her maw like an animal and
Swallows me with conviction, without shame
There is something ominous, something foreboding
Lying in the onyx sea of her eyes
But she does not pull on the corners of my mouth
she does not turn me into gilded grins
And I am grateful for that.
I just want someone’s company
She just wants to drink someone’s sorrows through a bendy straw
(she smothers me but
there is an inkling of honeysuckle on her lips
And I stay for this)
Misery is a goddess with her Venus tongue in my mouth;
It’s all about the way she melts in me
The way she turns to ashes between my teeth
“Misery sits on top a crest”
She uses it like a diving board you know,
And she dives into the chasm of my chest
she lives there after all
(none of you can swallow me like she
I will only burn holes in your stomachs)
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Literature
an excerpt from a letter i can't finish
What a starry eyed mess you are. Your feelings run so deep through your blood and to your heart that you don’t know where to put them anymore. You’re so fond of dandelions and weeds but honey, weeds are weeds, and they are sinuous, crafty; they snake around the things that you’re trying to grow and they’re going to strangle your tree lungs if you don’t find a way to control them. Spoiler alert: weeds will overtake you in the future, and you’re never really going to learn how to control them. Instead you’ll just break out the weed killer because that’s easier than tending to a garden of tumultuous emotions. You’ll begin to fear the things inside you, the weeds that grow through your eyes and your mouth and spill through your gaps,
and you'll stand guard over your plants day and night, relentless, restless.
You’ll be terribly sleep deprived.
You’ll claw at your eyes and your heart to get those weeds out of your soil. But t
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Literature
mercury girl
She has a body built like
Mercury
Gray and  
Smoldering yet
Freezing too;
nothing good lives here; everything is too hot or too cold but
still, she is overturning the ashes on her lips
the ice in her lungs; trying to
hide the ugly and decaying so she can
Reel in pretty girls
With all the charismatic confidence of a god
A paradoxical being she was
both loving and
fearing
those goddesses with soft hands and
gentle hearts,
the ones meant to be showered in adulation
bodies meant to be worshiped and held close
pure and untouched Persephone girls
but they have not been burned yet and
the tender have a tendency to break hearts
or get theirs broken by
girls like her
she did not want to do that to them
she just wanted to fill her own craters with life
life that, perhaps, at one point in time spanned across her marred surface
but mercury is too close to the fire to breathe
and too dark to be anything but cold and dead
(she breathes in the smoke and radiation
She wants to be more than this
B
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Mature content
lips like frayed rose petals :iconsurrealnacre:SurrealNacre 2 2
Literature
how deep these veins go
If people could see the sludge in my veins
If they could see me swallowing darkness in mouthfuls
I wonder what they'd think
To know that this gangly beast is what lies
beneath
that flowery encasing;
I am not nice
I am barely amiable my love
with this concrete tongue I hide behind my pearly teeth
I have gone from fire to ash to cinderblock
and
If I weren’t so stupid I’d chip hard words from this
stone instead of plucking my petals and scattering them
for people to step on
I think if they could see how deep these veins go
It’d remind people of
The bones they keep in pretty boxes on their closet shelves
And how it feels to kiss their demons so softly at night
(I have grown obsequious with my shadows too
We bend together now
In one accord
we grow up those popcorn walls like vines;
I like to breathe in the dust we create
Settle in my lungs won't you?
It's nicer this way)
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SurrealNacre
ellie
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
Trinidad and Tobago
just a person posting poems and paintings when i remember i have an account here
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:iconalbinopixel:
albinopixel Featured By Owner Apr 24, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the watch!
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:iconsurrealnacre:
SurrealNacre Featured By Owner Apr 24, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
you're welcome :D
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:iconsawuscimitar74:
SawuScimitar74 Featured By Owner Mar 21, 2018
Happy late Birthday! Hope it was a good one! :D
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:iconsurrealnacre:
SurrealNacre Featured By Owner Apr 2, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks!
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:iconsawuscimitar74:
SawuScimitar74 Featured By Owner Apr 2, 2018
You're welcome! :D
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