|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
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
Milking the Minefield
Temptation - longing and yearning for your touch, to come , to be, to sing a sensation across my fingers, cheek and lips.
Nerve-circulation - every single breath you exhale tickles goospebumps onto my skin, hair screaming in morbid celebration.
Tormentation - you inflict and push upon my heart, until all the blood has been squeezed into the calipillaries of my stomach; curdling the juices as it licks your feet.
But yet, you pull on me closer and closer until i'm so close to you that i fear my heart may crumble once more.
Then you push, and you push and you push and you push, until i feel so cold and idiotic that i doubt that i can face this excruitaiting pain another minute.
But i'm bonded to you, attached like siamese twins, peas connected in the same pod but thwarting each other.
A dark hole full of emptiness tweaks at my insides, pulling and exposing all the fragile curves and thoughts.
The void cannot be crossed.
I beg you. Consume me once more.
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
Keep in Touch!