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the scars on your shouldersthe scars on your shoulders
are braille to me, so that i
can read your skin, so that i
can know you better.

i like to listen to your heartbeat
and how it resounds differently
from mine, just so beautifully
like two songs played in tandem
to harmonise in rounds;

i like to hold your hands
and rub your back
so that maybe my love
can find its way through your pores
and seep into your blood
(never can i find the right words
to tell you just the way you feel to me)

and to think that and how i nearly missed you
makes me miss you more
every minute and mile we spend
elsewhere.
i can't sleep with another body
in my bed,
but sleeping without you
leav
He doesn't write poetry anymore.He doesn’t write poetry anymore,
even if he still collects it, reads it, saves it, treasures
faded verses from his wife the way connoisseurs
savor vinyl over metallic rainbows on disc.
I don’t mind not knowing, but I can’t stand not asking.

The record needle hits the groove wrong;
he stumbles over words that aren’t there,
rummaging for an answer he doesn’t really have.
He doesn’t write poetry anymore
and his confusion is strangely endearing.

But there’s a lyricism to his words that I love,
poetic lines inserted between the daily grind
of character names and who said what;
voiceless boys in white a
PocketLeftover religion in the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
A key that unlocks nothing
A penny, a scrap of paper
With half of your name
Written in black ink

A song that is usually in my head
In the shriveled carcass
Of a long-dead dream
In the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
With the lint
SurelyIt was raining
when we kissed for the first time,
for the last time.

Thin rivulets
sunk into the shrunken space
between our bodies
and divided us
like nothing could before,
like everything will
from now
until that never again
when we will
see each other once more,
no more.

Your eyes were
that bewitching shade
of dull brown blue
with all of the light darkness
whirling
in a placid pond
around a pupil
overflowing with vacancy,
and me
and my frowning smile.

The winter heat
fell like a rising tide
and,
for our every breath
was another death
so black and full of life --
embracing our boiled ice skin
as we drew apart,
came together and broke free
Condemnedbeneath the beaten earth they lay,
their dreams condemned to ashes,
and our restless bodies stretch,
for forgiveness, for direction –

survivors of the abyss,
amidst wide-eye, silent soldiers –
so many dead, so many maimed,

how many graves are we standing on, today?
Life, Death And A Pork Chop SandwichAll tangled up, hard to breathe
This steel cloud day that swirls
With heat and pounding hammers
I shake in my boots and cough up
Blood, rust and damaged flesh
Waiting for the second coming
Maybe next time around there'll be
Some chance for more than this

A twisted barbed wire halo
Wrapped tight around my skull
Blinding white light aura
Swarming with flies I'm flying
To pieces, thousands of shards
Cannot be brought back together
But I will remember the summer
Of my first Chevrolet in each bit

Gleaming bits of glass in the desert
Each reflecting a different moment
Still, now, enduring until the waves
Of a new ocean sweep them away
No pain
SisterSister

A sister is like a soul mate;
Someone who is always there
to guide me through fate.

A sister is,
a part of childhood that I cannot erase;
A sister like you,
is one that I would never replace
because you always know how to
put a smile on my face.

I know I can depend on you
to always be there for me;
This is one hundred percent guaranteed!

I've had great memories with you
in the past;
and I hope there are many more
to come,
in the future.
Onceyour beauty lies restless behind those
hills, where you fought valiantly. and
the man you once were was brave and kind,
but now you are possessed by a passenger
of darkness, whispering words of your
loneliness.

the man you once were is forgotten, and
the man you are today, is only a ghost, a
shadow, of what you were before.
Pretty little things called words and dustif you weren't a hypocrite,
you'd be wrapped in the sweetest
perfumes
(learning
how to engulf the ocean
with your lungs
and think of how to cup it
in your hands
despite
your broken prayers and
still be beautiful)

dance with the gypsies
'till noon
(a quake in
your hips like the thrust
of continents
and the faultlines
emanating from
your spine,
but still
so, so graceful)

sing with the nymphs
in tune
(your voice,
it's growing old,
raspy even.
your throat's burning dry
like a monsoon
faltering in a desert,

and tones
still octaves
powerful)

be nestled in a king's arms
soon  
(oh, you precious
little thing.
how
HorsepowerHorsepower

There’s a knife turnin in my soft parts
And heat burnin my mind on hard starts
The motors runnin but I lost the wheel
Just want it to be numb don’t wanna feel
Take two steps back and put it in park
Before I leave scarred up black marks
I need a u-turn on this highway
But can’t go back on the by-way
So look ahead, the pavement goes on
Break the rear-view mirror it’s gone
Contemplate
Reiterate
Put it in drive
And say goodbye
Let’s see how fast this bitch can fly

-Cygam7
nightmarethe foxes are at your bedside and singing--
feversongs,
songs of boiling thoughts
and broken muscles.
their lullabyes.
they sneak so quiet, and
somehow,
you can't quite
dream
anymore.
Lost In ConfusionMy mind is spinning without a rest
emotions whirl and twirl around
A merry-go-round gaining speed
Until the world blurrs before my eyes
What's happening? What's going on?

The simplest thought slips away
Right from my mind, fading so fast
Trying to focus, I stare and stare
Until my eyes are heavy and unclear.  
I don't understand, what is going on...

Emotions rise and fall again
Within the blink of an eye
I'm crying, laughing, and depressed
A rollercoaster ride that never ends
Am I losing my mind in this ?

I try to close my eyes and rest
But the world spins me around
I feel like I am failing this test
Voices and noisies echo in my min
Puppet  My tears fall,

      like invisible

               diamonds.

 My heart beats,

      like soundless

               drums.

 Unwanted,

       because of the

             strings attached.
Why meI wanted sleep very badly
I tried my hardest to rest
I closed my eyes and laid there
But sleep didn’t come easy
I would doze off
And wake back up
Again
Why me? When I know I have to be up at 3 AM.
FossilizedLiving proof of fossils alive,
and no horseshoe-crab am I.

Nor, inhabitable harsh compression of plates,
residing under humid marsh-scapes.

I mold into the walls, as chalky old coal.
But I am no mineral, no era.
I am not, Mesozoic.

Through the ages
Iron
Bronze
silver, gold and heroic.

I remain a still-life; and no Iduna's apples would retain my youth
No magic fountains, or time devices, or wrist watches.
I am the machine of time.
The watcher, omnipotent, the wise.

But

no God am I

Somewhere, sweet tangy sap trolleys down cracked bark.
Somewhere, celestial bodies erupt unseen.
Somewhere, a abrupt breeze blows overturned bi-cycle tire
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More from ~OnlyTheGodsAreNew

It will never be the sameA broken string
Can be stringed
Back together
But the knot
It leaves
Will be there forever
There is joyThere is joy
In seeing someone you adore
Borrow your hoodie
Two sizes too big for her
Like a blanket with sleeves

There is joy
In seeing her wet hair
Cling to her bare shoulders
Like vines to white marble
And the cold air embrace you

There is joy
In the smell of vanilla perfume
Reminding you of
Home and the piano
In the hallway

There is joy
In solemn tones
And the secrets that they harbour
Through centuries
And beyond

There is joy
In wishing
For a future
Like this.
A tale of warGunfire, gunfire, oh so loud
Piercing the distant clouds
And the ringing churchbells
When they kill the angels

Bullets, bullets raining down
And angels in their evening gowns
Ripped apart and bleeding out
Oh the shouting, hear them shout

Crossfire, crossfire, caught in it's path
Add a body count to the aftermath
The angel choir singing requiems
When the glorious dead are brought to them

Mourning, mourning spreading now
When the victorious take their final bow
Making massive graves of the defeated's trench
To get rid of the rotting corpses stench

A performace, a performace of human strength
To make a grave ten thousand miles i
Daily war inside - outdoorWhen the storm began to roar
I was strolling down a solemn path
Contemplating my inner war
The trigger and the aftermath

Rain turned to blood turned to gore
And the smell of forgotten oceans
Rolled in from the distant shore
I could feel the waves in motion

Under the surface a monster dwells
A shark with teeth as sharp as knives
Quiet until the blood starts to smell
But roaring aloud when it finally strikes

Pulling me into a state of mind
My lungs fills with dirty water
And when the memories unwind
It is nothing less than slaugther

When the violent storm cools off
My body drifts out from the shore
And I wake up with a cough
Tin roofMy grandparents
Thier house
And tin roof
The pattering
Of rain
And smell
Of wet grass
Tickles
My feet
And my mind
With memories
Of a time
When the sun rose
For me
And no one else

Me
My room
The cold
Wooden floor
Sends shivers
Down my spineless
Spine
The wind howling
A sign
Of impending doom
Or rain
But it doesn't patter
It soaks me
In the realisation
That the sun
Will rise
Even if I don't
A new sun risesI made her my entire world
So when she left
It shattered
But I stood up
On shaky legs
Oh so bruised and battered

All the secrets I had whispered
In her ear
Didn't really matter
And if you care to know what's left
Of my heart
Follow the blood spatter

When clouds roll in on darkened skies
You just have to be
A fighter
Because if you prevail
And a new sun rises
It will shine out all the brighter

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Uninvited

:icononlythegodsarenew:

We meet again
The crimson spider webs of bloodshot eyes
Crying for help
To avoid one’s own gaze
Becomes harder when the eyes in the mirror
Are those of a stranger

I don’t know you
Why do you keep coming back?
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