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+Storms 2+Square your shoulders
And set your gaze to the far off distance
Because that’s where you need to set your sights
Far beyond this nightmarish dilemma
Of whether or not loving you liking you a lot, is right
I have a pride you’re not witness to
That allows me to turn my back on the best things in my life
Face the opposite direction and pretend—
That you never hijacked this train
And never held the conductor at wistful gunpoint
It leaves me writing at 5a.m.
Wringing my hands like laundry for the line
And licking my lips just for a taste
Of your latest cigarette smoke
While my version of a relationship swirls down the drain
Keep your commitment, and your confusion too
Remember me by the scars on your shoulders
Because I’m a garish reality
And I’ve been fixing this game all along
Luck was never on my side
+Storms+These russet eyes of a war torn vixen
Are crying out in silent strife
Spilling more secrets than a tied tongue ever could—
It’s a shame you can’t make out their tune
Because I’ve got open arms and an open rib cage
Broken hopes you’re so talented at mending
Stitching me back together with wisps of chemicals—
Tendrils from your soul and the last cigarette of the night
I stood knee deep in the rain
Turning it brackish with taciturn tears
Frozen on my cheeks like the Christmas lights
That shone through the blizzard of the fade to white
All it took was a touch
And those hazel eyes entombed me
Trapped me in this incessant winter called my heart
Which still beats with the scars of failed hopes
You built these walls around me and let me call you home
Protection from the winds warring outside
Hold me close and let me stay here—
Where I can see the stars again
Where I tread in the eye of the storm
A dance turned deadly game
But keep me in her blinds spot
+Untitled+I find it ironic
That you gave me a white hare
Because I never
Feel like I have enough time (with you)
+There's Something About the Rain+There's something sensual about the rain
The way it feels like a touch from a few hundred miles away
Sent on the wings of something a bit more sinister
Coloring the sky with charcoal smears
As my hearts learns to start letting you go
Faint whispers of sweet nothings
Coalescing into recollections of relationships passed
Deep enough to get your feet wet
But too shallow to drown your wasted days
At the bottom of the next bottle
Could you see me watching from the thunderheads
As you ducked under the ring of an eclipse?
A darkened view of a lost world
With dreams that once were, sloughing from the edges
Eyes closed to the sins you've committed
I wished you were here
As I sat with my feet in the rain-washed gutter
Watching the dissolved remnants of today's news
Drift over my toes, washing me clean of the condemning thoughts
That might keep me up at night
Taking the nervous tension from my veins
That would otherwise have me clawing at my neck
And sending it off to another rainy city
+I Didn't Fall Asleep in the Arms of Another+Sometimes I wish I were Annabel Lee
Because then at least I'd have a reason to wait up at night
In our pretend kingdom with a false sea
Where tears have coalesced into something bigger than any of us
But too small to hold on to
As it runs through the cracks in our fingers
Like the cracks in the sidewalk
Yawning gap-toothed grins of metropolitan proportions
Gateways to throats like deserts
Missing voices cracked under the strain
And lack of rain
But no shortage of year old pain medications
And pearly white tally marks
That tell me how long I've been a prisoner here
I was once trapped behind my eyelids
But there was no lack of blood red light
As looked at myself from the outside in
I realized what an ugly thing I had become
And the false sea rose to high-tide
I fell into the arms of Mariana
Silky tendrils embracing this mistake
Like you had forgotten you could
And as the shafts of light turned my chocolate eyes, death-blue
I remembered that you would regret
What you thought I had forgott
I can hear the shivers rattling up your spine
Reverberating in mahogany eyes
Until they shake your tears lose
And return them to Mariana
Your bones are too loud
The birds inside are screaming
The words inside are dreaming
Your joints are clattering like silverware on porcelain
The world is driving me deaf
The thoughts of a trillion hearts
Are stuck on death
Because it's the only promise ever kept
The sound of your eyes
Watching the back of your skull
Is like the frost under your fingernails
Scratched from a bus window
The crickets in the field
Aren't really singing
They're catching up on the mourning
While the night runs away
+I Swear I Can+My eyelids are heavy, maybe I'm just tired, or maybe my body is telling me to go back to sleep.
Only in my dreams are you close enough to touch. But with each arm thrust into icy water, I realize your reality is rippling. I realize you're just a reflection with no origin.
You're so very far away tonight, and you couldn't possibly be here in my ice water arms.
The reality is.
You're too far away to touch, but I can feel you.
+I Didn't Need to Know+I never knew
Butterflies could feel like flacons
I can feel their 3ft wingspans
Pressing against my ribs
In a desperate bid
Leaving plumes in the spaces
Between my vertebrae,
And the gaps in my pulse
When my heart holds its breath
And you hold my heart
And we hold each other
Because the world is too damn cold
I never knew
Calling at taxi at 3a.m.
And telling it to drive south
Until the fields became never-ending
And the horizon became convex
Would be in my repertoire
Of vanishing acts
That my knuckles would ache
From the constant need
To assure you hadn't vanished
Into the smoke of a cigarette
Carried away from here
Like so many past ghosts
I never knew
Pain could be so fleeting
An apology so sweet
A comfort so complete
In the end I'm left
Interrogating my magic 8 ball
Demanding to be told
Where you hide the patience
To watch all the angels fall from the sky
With your coffee stain eyes,
With careful indifference
With arms wide open
You caught every piece of me
+Nameless Raindrops+A friend once told me to take inspiration wherever I could get it.
I found it the wet pavement smell that told me it was raining somewhere in the city, but no one cared enough to find the zip code. A place where smoke drifts from the half burned cigarettes of nameless faces, all waiting on the same thing. Satisfaction.
Far away in a cement brick room the dreamless color of Bavarian cream, I knew that wherever they were, one of those faces had remembered to forget me. One of those beautiful faces of someone or somewhere I'll never meet. With the color of chocolate stained into their irises like a forgotten coffee ring left on the counter for too long.
One of those faces hidden beneath a hood or newspaper, an improvised shelter from the rain falling, somewhere. One of those faces in café windows, watching the trickles snake down the glass, dragging along every drop in their path.
There are raindrops in this world. They're kind of people that grab your wrist as they're tumbling from
My mind deals with
Overcomes my judgement
Today it's no different
I can't take it anymore
Observing my image but
Nothing is revealed
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
Before My Mouth Told You I Was Sickbefore my mouth told you i was sick, there were
the fingers that wrapped around cups and cups of tea.
i sipped oceans.
i sipped the seven seas
and my ribs were the rainstick that
sent shivers pattering like some
down your swaying, praying spine.
there were the hurricanes.
that is what you came to call them,
my eyes burst into lightning,
my chest quaked with thunder,
when my ribs heaved with the monsoon
that was my breath
until i collapsed, shaking, into your
beach house arms.
there were the missing beats.
sometimes my heart slowed, stopped,
staggered home drunk to gasp morse-code warnings
between my aching ribs.
sometimes the stillness was so perfect
(and alone so tempting)
that i wished for the beat
to wander far and
to be forever lost.
there were the ribs, and the collarbones.
i was a mountain range with
blood in my rivers,
you saw the carrot sticks
(oh god how could you)
and you let me feed myself with
there was the blood i was suppose
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
To the person who holds my best friend's heart...I know that is is kind of weird
But I felt that I should write this down.
I need to tell you what I feel
And tell you what he means to me.
He's my best friend and he's a good man.
Please, give him the love and respect he deserves.
He may seem goofy but he's very sweet.
I know this because he was always there for me when I was sad.
Now, I know that you're not bad
Cause he would never choose someone who's mean.
But I still want to tell you just in case you forget in the future;
Please don't break his heart.
He's been through so much
And he doesn't deserve something like that.
He is the kind of person who smiles even when he's hurt by others
And would take any pain for the people he loves.
I know, I've witnessed it.
I know he may seem kind of childish sometimes
But don't let it get to you.
It's just his way of expressing himself.
He's very caring and I'm sure he'll do anything to make you happy.
He doesn't look like it but he's very kind and thoughtful.
He'll put your needs before h
in which I gain sentiencesave room
for doubt, in the silence between
religious guilt and stolen
body heat. I am made of helium.
in my dreams they
pop me and
watch me flutter. I wonder if everyone
else’s head is so congested as mine,
hyperactive with inattentive people.
you are never serious--
he stares at me in a different
set of eyes; there are words
I cannot say, there are
things I cannot tell you.
(twice a week
I watch the people I love
leave me for good.
spiders in my throat,
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
Can you look deeper?You see that girl you just bullied?
The one you harassed over her choice of art?
The art of a man beating a woman to death?
She saw her father kill her mother when she was five.
You know that man who likes to photograph himself in dresses?
The one you called a homo because of his choice of clothing?
Well, his parents wanted him to be a girl instead of a boy.
So they made him dress like that everyday to pretend he was a girl.
You know that woman who writes stories about child rape?
The one you bullied until she didn’t know how to cope with life anymore
Her uncle has been in jail for the past eleven years.
He raped her daily for seven years of her life.
What about that guy who favored abstract artwork?
Do you remember him he liked to use the colors red and black a lot.
He was nearly beaten to death when he was fourteen.
He only knows nightmares because he remembers seeing his blood on the wall.
What about me? Do you remember me? Even just a teensy little bit?
You bullied me because
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More