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- Breath at allpoetry
I am a breath, held in until the lungs burn and blackness creeps in, like the pits of Hell, - Genesis at allpoetry
I I close my eyes, feel small against - Rhapsody Ecstacy at allpoetry
The line of black umbrellas, a funeral procession of tight lips, of clicking heels against - Moving & Grooving at allpoetry
Write a letter as I rock out to the mixed tape- each love song stilted and jaded, - Touched at allpoetry
I’ll be with the pill bottles, the scalpels, the nooses- if you ever want to find me. - Twilight at allpoetry
Twilight smiles at me, her pearly dentures sunk to the bottom of her water glass. - Pariah at allpoetry
Condensation builds up on yearning lips. I lean in, to taste the color of your aura, - Lacuna at allpoetry
Coal black eyes shift (like the headlights of a car breaking the sound barrier) - Requiem at allpoetry
It’s a paper cut that kills her so/ where she hides all the secrets that you’ll never know/ - Klaxon at allpoetry
None of the notes are right, klaxon-redundant and boisterous as a tsunami eroding - Chemicals at allpoetry
My chemicals are as faulty as bloodletting, or the wiring of a firefly, - Navel-Gazing (Hangman) at allpoetry
You hold the stub of a one-way train ticket / between fingers that recently / fondled the lit cigarette. / You’ve put it out beneath your heel, / leaving a scorch-mark on the pavement, / but the smoke still c - Memorial at allpoetry
The graphite lead is stuck / in your skin, broken off from when I tried / to draw your heart back on; / the soulless look in your coal-black eyes / says I failed, but at least / you’ll have something remem - Musically Inclined at allpoetry
I live on this bridge of rhythmic / pulsations, split between / major and minor chords. / My heartstring is yearning towards your finger, / to be strummed in perfect harmony. / You are musically incli - God-breathed at allpoetry
Passionately you arranged familiar atoms / into unfamiliar structures, / slinging ink with a quill fingertip / to inscribe your wonder upon / the universe, rolled / up like a scroll. / Creation trembles - Stowed at allpoetry
She keeps his words stowed safely / in her pocket on a fraying string / Sometimes he adds to them, but she / only tucks them away again, until it / is time for them to be shown - Sanguinary at allpoetry
I get the feeling something's missing, as / I resort to another duct-tape fix. Hide / a contusion behind another layer of blush, / but meanwhile / Nothing's changed (except the outside). / No amount of al - Icarus at allpoetry
Waxen wings and sealing wax, sanguinary phrases / I once fondly harkened to. / There is an address to Timbuktu, if you / close your eyes and watch the colorful / dots swim through tar-field vision. / My waxen wings - Timbuktu at allpoetry
Quillfingertips trace pensive thoughts, / trail a poetic glimpse reminiscent of / gray, fogged glasses / fail to glimpse the star burning / in the pitch black. / All is gray, 'til a quillfingertip / brushes t - Caffeine-induced Hallucination at allpoetry
A caffeine induced hallucination, / that must be it. Three / hours of surveying the swirling / pattern in the wooden table, and I / spot the eye at last. It’s taken five / cups of coffee, drunk in sips once - Acerbic at allpoetry
Hammerfists erase punctuation marks in favor of / acerbicrunons, / the static of bad reception adding a dulcet undertone to / to the screeching wheels of your getaway car. / Fingertips trace the tracks you left behin - Grandfather Clock at allpoetry
I am held close to you, my skin / being rubbed raw by your granite surface, / trapped as though your statuesque limbs / were truly adhesive duct tape. / Your eyes are two flames set to burn / in a field of snow - Jesus-star at allpoetry
The same can be said for you as for me- / originality has never existed, merely / different forms of the same ideas repeated / again and again, for the amusement / of the masses. But with twisting words / and decept - Impasse at allpoetry
My breath fogs up the window like a moth-wing, / artificial lights interrupting the brief spiral of unrepentant joy. / This is the Autobahn, heavily trafficked by ideas / that never cease marching. There is plenty of st - Column: Title at allpoetry
Changes... - Pressing On at allpoetry
The scrapbook is still on the table where you left it, / yellow pages fluttering in an idle breeze / smelling of fresh spring rain and salty tears. / In the memories pressed between these pages, / I am swin - Synchronization at allpoetry
Synchronized, the pulsation / of hearts in time to / the swinging of the world. / It is a penduluum / swinging back and forth. / I will catch it, and / in a silver current of / words and wishes / freeze t - E'in Sof v. 2 at allpoetry
It is 3 am and the black sky / overhead resembles a snake, / onyx coils poised to strike. I am / Cleopatra and these pearls will / prove my noose. E'in Sof. / No noose, these pearls. / A snake instead, swayi - Two-faced at allpoetry
I am a Las Vegas lie, / oozing insincerity from / every pore. / The 3 am chatter filters / through the vents, the / smell of cigarettes in the air / mingling with laundry detergent. / The clothes han - E'in Sof [Infinite, Endless] at allpoetry
It is 3 am and the black sky / overhead resembles a snake, / onyx coils pouised to strike. I am / Cleopatra and these pearls will / prove my noose. / A string of pearls, how queer / to see them dangling so. - Fluoxetine Sweetheart at allpoetry
Here's one blue-and-white goodbye, / fluoxetine lullaby, I am sent to sleep by the / whispers of yours song, / "I love you, I love you, I love you.". / I love you with the fickle passion / of Romeo, "Oh my Juli - Amor Est Vitae Essentia at allpoetry
There are holes burnt in me, / like a cigarette was pressed against / some flimsy fabric. That fabric is me. / Oh bleeding heart! You see, / I am only a representation of your voodoo rituals. / See? Here are the p - Unions at allpoetry
[Hm...another piece I'm still not fully satisfied with...like grrrrrr...] / I am the onion peelings, lying unraveled on / your smooth, unblemished linoleum floor. / And here is my record, blank except for your ma - Fascist v. 2.0 at allpoetry
I am in line to be gassed. With muted voice, / the resident fascists converse on such matters / as Aryans and imprisoning yellow stars. The / same yellow start that has so often spelled / out my doom. I am ensared in - Fascist at allpoetry
I am in the line to be gassed. With muted voices / the Fascists talk of things beyond my understanding. / The sky will fall, be it today or tomorrow / and we will all be swallowed. But no, I am / regarded as a madwoma
