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We stand united; two people, one mind.
We hold hands as we search within the perils of this society.
Our spine, curved, immortalised in an essence of letters. Our breath whispers a thousand wisdoms, whilst our mind battles in pictures.
Forever your shadow hovers over my shoulder, fighting for attention.
We consume each others dreams; bursting the abstract wall of desire, caressing the emotions and feeding on the center.
I long for the memories to idiolise the passion of being idle, rather than exploding into torment.
You knew it was the end.
Death cannot be denied.
Geraldine knew nothing.
Eddy knew all.
Yellow; how absurdly foul.
The taste does not move me, nor will your promises. You attempt to place wool over my eyes, unaware of the pores. I read through your devious words. Your lips never speak fair, always trying to brainwash me into some form of deluded happiness. But what does happiness portray once it's been force?
Does love still exist if its been twisted?
You think you can close my eyes by caressing my eyelashes, but perspective does not come from the iris. Neither does sense. Logic originates from the mind.
Does a blind man not dechiper emotions?
By taking his sight, do you take his intelligence?
I thought not. So why do you yearn to tear me from my diginity, and turn me from the truth?
For protection? Oh i doubt it.
Your greed for lies will pull you down and you alone; this fear shall eventually consume your frail heart.
Single-eyed Suicide Syndrome
I tear, and i tear at my heart. I will for it to crumble; no longer two bleeding segments but a pile of chalk.
Ashes yearning to burn. Flames; fragments of a fire longing to wither the thoughts of those living. If only those volgorous flames would consume my mind; i live for the day these insane thoughts cease.
I long for the moment my wings shrink into a cold pile of bitter salt. I visualise the feathers burning into cinders, the wings of a dove becoming mortal.
Unfolding, i imagine the soft mysterious feathertips drowning into air. Then i disintergrate; tiny peices of a dream, floating on a wavelength of time. I feel the dust falling onto the grass, tears sinking into the soil.
Then i touch, i touch the heart and soul with my fingertips. Its so small and surreal, beyond the smallest photon, yet somehow i know exactly where to find it.
The salt of life; a masterpeice immortalised, forever evolving into something new, something unheard of.
Then i breathe.
I breathe freedom which holds
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
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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