Onyx DreamsOnyx Dreams Fluctuations of sound waves vibrate the floor,While the lights of my room glow brilliantly,But as time winds down and my energy starts its decline,My vision gets blurry and listening becomes hearing,And hearing becomes simple background noise,While Palaceer Lazaro’s words become filmy intonationsYet, still creating a motion picture full of abstract images,In my mind full of words and phrases that do nothing but stay stagnant,And Slumber begins to wrap her warm hands around my head,As she sweetly begins to pull me into black depths of rest,A state of unconsciousness that will take me on a journey,Through the grey abyss we call the center of our nervous system,And once I fall into the pit of nothingness, the pit of onyx, for those few hours,I will transform into an atramentous being with aphotic wings,Because “black is free……..”
I Don't Miss AdolescenceMy sister calls to ask me if I'll do her makeup;Mami promised that she would, but she's tiredand screamed when Maria reminded her senior promis tonight. She says, "I have a hickey on my neck,something she doesn't want to cover, and you've alwaysdone a better job of highlighting the subtle graces inherent to my bone structure, the angles we share."I say, "That's okay, but I can't pick you up,"so she arrives in a flourish of exasperations,telling me all the family business, waving her nailsin my face and talking about the pain of her extensions.She says, "Do you think we need yellow concealer?I plan to take pictures, and the last
You were cold insideYour lips tasted ofsummer, of warm days andcherry-flavoured ice,relaxing by the pool side andsmiling against the sun.You should have been too hot,too sticky, too humid.You should have overheated, should havemelted into your bones untilthey turned to ashes, butit never happened.I suppose I should haveseen it coming, butI was so moonstruck overthe way you said my name, soin love with the ideaof love, that I didn't notice the wayyour eyes bled winter.
The HourglassWatch the hands go round and round.Ahhhh, how long have I been sitting here,Listening to the grandfather clock?Watching him ticking away?Watching the polished wood yellow and rot?And with every sound he makesMore maggots eat his wooden flesh.Every grain that falls is an eternity!In the firelight you can see the glass.The dust that coats the cracking bulb,Listening to the sand that trickles down.Listening to the passing hours.With every grain that filters throughAnother man sleeps eternally.The sundial stands defiant!From my leather chair I see it!It stands defiant in the plaza below me!Standing in the moonlit night.Standin
7 - The Pet PoetI remember when Mommy bought you a black-haired pet for your sweet sixteenth. Its bronze collar said its name was "Poet." You fed it noise from the out-of-tune piano, intense moments involving flesh and razors, and the occasional walk by the lake.At first, he knew only the wolf's howl, purging blood and flames onto the carpets.Everywhere was a smell of extravagance -- like that woman's cheap perfume on the train to work. But you cried a little less, smiled a bit more. And that was when Daddy stopped trying to send it back to the shelter.Soon, you even started watching T.V.(and enjoyed food, dressed nice, made friends.) But T
nothing specialthey tell you not to give upbecause you have potential-- and to the ones who simply enjoyyou're probably fantasticbut to those who doyou're simply mediocre,nothing to bat aneyelash at.you're not quite bad enoughto quit, but you're notgreat enough to beremembered.
unrequitedyou make my wordsgather at the hollows of my throatuntil i choke on them.my fingers ache tohold you--but my eyes ache to cry.you're nothing but heart breakwrapped in a bow of something beautiful,like the dust of grace fromfallen angels.i drink a little faster andcry a little harder because the way whiskey and tearsmingle on my lipstastes suspiciously of love.
VIIEncore un peu de cendre Au coin de tes lèvresParolescentesJ'épluche tes souhaitsTu laves le cielEn vainEt dans ce vent chaudDes milliers de pétalesDe peau
SeppukuA blue sky greets me as I kneel to the ground.I hear the rushing wind and the sacred water sound.The cold, grey stone upon my knee,As I prepare myself for eternity.I take a solemn look at my silent crowd,Those cruel, dark faces scream so loud.They want me to do the final deed.I'll plunge the tanto in. They'll see me bleed.I look for a while at my full rice bowl,And prepare for the next cycle of my soul.What shall I be? A man or god?Shall my next life be lived in the mud and sod?I finish quickly so we don't delay.By now the light is fading away.I take up the pen and start to write,To put brush to paper is one last delight."
Equestrian StormEquestrian StormI was walking through Canterlot,as rain beat my plot.I just didn’t feel right,before it came into my sight.The princess of the night,alone and broken.What a pitiful sight,out of my slump, twas awoken.“Princess, why are you here why are you crying?”“Because nopony loves our night, I would be better off dying!”“No Luna no, now that you shouldn’t say!”“And why ever not, what reason hath you that I should stay?”“Celestia for one, your sister whom you love.”“Right sure, the sister from whom to the moon I was shoved.”“Lu
No wordsI don't like to talk.I feel that words cannot truly express what I feel.When I am filled with emotion, I can find no word that can express what I feel to the fullest.There is no word beautiful enough to describe this joy, no word horrible enough to describe this hate, no word ugly enough to describe this miserable existence.
a small dosage per daysorrow makes its way into my cup of tea every morningso I add more spoonfuls of sugar into it, hoping the sweetness will overpower the bitterness;yet, this clever feeling still seeps through the sweet substance and clings to the sugar's particles, races through my veins and scatters in my blood,making an entire day feel ruined already.
Right Ulna and RadiusStill I remember the day I spentlying, green, in a hospital bedswaddled in blankets.The afternoon I woke,sprawled across the classroom floor,my words slurring and armswelling,trying to pick faces outof the black spots in my visionand begging eyes to tell mewhat had happenedwhere I waswho I was.The way thetwo nurses rubbed feeling back into my ice-cold fingersand dripped my blood into a tube, cell by cell by cell,for fear that my basic structure wouldhit the bottom of the vacuum and shatter.
HowlPlaces unknown beckon so sweetly,And I pace through the wreckage, Shifting and turning, Daring to flee the turmoil that lies within.(They said I was strange, Howling up and up to the sky so high, Chain smoking beneath the moonlight, Banging the night away at the keys of a piano.)Steeping tea so softly brings an ease to the mind. Leisure drifts through my thoughts, Tainting my actions with the lull of the summer,sun light spills over my bare hands to wash away the winter.(When I was young they thought I was a monster, Lurking beneath the heavy night. They thought I prowled beneath fences and stars, Morphed into something so d
Never open the window... Never open the window...I see you're here.Pay attention, don't fall. It's dark.What? No, I don't want to light up the room. Yeah, nor open the window. It's useless. And actually, the only light I need... ...is that one that is so distant for me.She asked me why I was saying that.But best of all, I knew that actually she didn't careI saw too much faces ready to wipe away all my tears and all my fearsBut best of all, I know that actually they didn't care.Seems like destiny put me in this world to help others. Oh, I'm tired, but I won't show you. it has been four years, right?Four years that I'm holding all of you on my shoul
Lettuce LeafLettuce Leaf:Distinguished as,Insignificant.Wilted,Like so many greenery Images…Painted,Like none have seen, one full of vigor.To have died.And tossed aside…Never to be seen again.What a shame.