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wishi wish you panic
i wish you fear
i wish you the feeling of missing a step
of having one life left
after living with the thought of nine
i wish you dirt and dust
i owe you this much
I live in transatlantic flight and time zone change
Jet-lag and 'people of note'
Clouds, sky, birds and rain
All of the above, and all below
I live within these few precious hours
Hours of absence and strangers
This hour of loneliness is mine
mute.You watch me quiet-like
In tones mute. Singing in thirds and six.
Moving in slowed motions
You! Ever serpentine you!
From the earth
and held in hands too calloused to touch.
"In death, you had breath
In you, I am death"
I want to say something good about myself,
Hear my voice speak it out loud
If my words don't waiver
I can force myself to believe.
I want to be you,
I want to be beautiful when i close my eyes,
Stand out there and show my soul
For everyone to pull apart,
Rip me from my body.
I want to taste it.
I want him to hurt,
Staring at me through this reflection
Looking as if he wants nothing less then chaos.
Sliding a knife across his throat
And a needle down his arm.
I want to glue you together,
Fix you up and re-write your memory.
Erase myself with whiteout and matches
And smile at you
cy rine -take 2-Gave myself a sad little tattoo,
As i waited to hear your empty voice down the line.
Broke the skin with a syringe and ink
Two crosses and a broken arrow on my wrist
One for the girl
One for another
And one for every heart that i've lost in this game.
[I didn't want to break you,
I didn't want to pierce your skin]
I met another girl
And when i touched her neck i felt the bruises sigh
Gave this inkstain a second thought
"These needles leave their marks
Tracks across my pale heart
And i'd like to say
I'm falling in love...
I need a little help from you. Kiss me like you mean it.
The Parlour IncidentOne day in July, I believe it was, I found myself sitting with several acquaintances in Christopher's parlour. It was one of those deliciously lazy afternoons which only the summer in her full glory can bring. The room had a wan, listless light to it, relaxing the other guests and myself as we languidly chatted over tea and crumpets. The air was also sluggishly heavy, dulling the senses to a slowly-blended calm engendered by the heat of St. Othniel's southerly climate.
At length, after much stimulating conversation, Christopher stood, producing a book of sheet music.
"What do you all say to a bit of music?" he asked.
"Certainly," I answered.
"Oh yes, please do darling!" Tabitha exclaimed, "he's quite the maestro."
Christopher laughed, shaking his head.
"Now, now love, I'd not go that far."
He strode over to the piano as the other guests urged him on. Ida entered the room bearing a merrily steaming teapot and more crumpets.
"More tea sirs?" she inquired, shooting sideways glances at her
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More