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A LetterIt's crazy how much a letter can change your life.
When I was really young it was a way to stay in contact with my best friend. We would write colorful letters to each other about our lives and reminders of our friendship and love.
I miss those letters.
When I was a teenager letters were a way for me to forget. To write angry letters that would never be sent to my mom about her drinking, her attitude, and her absence.
There was one letter that was written in the form of a story...one which my dad found...and outed me to my family.
Now, I'm a little bit older, a tad bit wiser, and the letters keep coming.
Not that I write, but one's that are written between two people I care about very much who are at war, my mom and dad.
Today I found out about a letter.
One that my dad sent to my mom.
It didn't talk of love, or anguish, but rather an informative yet hanus message about one of their post-divorce agreements.
The worst part of the letter, is that the words that were written were not his,
InsomniaIts slowly killing me.
Never thought I would be an insomniac.
Shut up, Shut up.
Fuck, I'm talking to myself again.
Why can't you just shut up and go to sleep?
Think about something.
Black dress, White dress, beautiful and an hour has passed by.
Why the hell haven't I fallen asleep?
Okay, think of white. Only white.
And, all thoughts are gone.
Fuck, I'm still talking to myself.
Shut up, Shut up!
When did I get here, to this terrible place.
I never thought I'd be an insomniac.
WordsMy speech is one of my greatest victories,
And one of my greatest faults.
In a moment the wrong words may escape,
Turning your life upside down.
Once it is whispered into the world,
It is forever held in the arms of others.
In their power, to do with what they may.
The most dangerous and vital tool in the world is speech.
How does one live without knowing its power, its importance.
Anguish, Beauty, Life, all in symbols, meanings,
My speech is one of my greatest victories,
And one of my greatest faults.
The Ordinary LesbianSix years ago I began looking for information regarding my sexuality. I found books about love, struggles, and fame (namely, Ellen DeGeneres), but I was never able to find a how-to lesbian book for Dummies. The question continued to enter my mind, "What makes a good lesbian?" Six years later, I found the answer. There are several different parts that make-up the perfect lesbian; fashion, relationships, PDA, and pride. According to dictionary.com a lesbian is defined as, "of, pertaining to, or characteristic of female homosexuality." Although this is true, it doesn't contain the important pieces of the puzzle, those that make up a good lesbian.
One of the most important parts of being a lesbian is making sure that one blends in with the crowd. It is easy to spot a good lesbian, say, in a gay bar, but it is more difficult to spot a good lesbian in everyday life. For example, if one is riding on a bus and playing the ever popular "spot the gays" game, a bad lesbian would be eas
Drowning, Without my UmbrellaI lose my mom.
And then my dad.
My family falls apart.
My best friend, my love, is gone.
I'm drowning in a sea of rain
Driven to dangerous measures
I'm drowning and I cannot see
The road containing leisure.
No one's here to wipe my tears
Hold my hand and say
Laura, everything's alright
It's going to be okay.
I miss the times when mom was here
To teach me how to stand
I miss the times when dad was there
To make me strong and wise
I miss the ways she talked to me
And how she made me feel
I miss myself
I miss my life
I miss who I used to be
Because that person now is gone
They turned around and fled.
I cannot see her coming back, at least for a long time.
She left long ago, without a soul
Even without a mind.
My Heart on My SleeveYour beauty and strength resonates
I wear my heart on my sleeve
You seem impenetrable, constant.
I talk too much.
You keep secrets, unable to open up to me
I tell you every minor detail, want to share my life with you
You try so hard, yet fall below
I try so hard and fall down low
When will you look me in the eye and tell me everything?
When will I stop pouring my heart out to you.
Impossible, I cannot. You are my everything.
The most beautiful, amazing, smart, endearing, lovely love, my baby.
I just simply wish that you could find the strength to share with me.
Every thought, every moment, your soul, for me to see.
HeavyThe weight on my chest makes it harder to breathe
I feel like I'm swimming in a drowning sea
Crying becomes a continuous habit
From inside, beneath, endless amounts of tragic.
When one part gets better, another gets worse
It's as if god wants my life to go in reverse
I'm slipping; I'm falling, with nothing around
I wish I had someone to take on a pound.
Pulsing through my veins
Running down my arm
Pressure in my hand, numbness.
Heart beating quickly
Twenty minutes later the ritual resumes
And only to find my hand becoming tenser, number, harder.
I look around with nothing to be found
I sit alone in fear
Do I hear footsteps or the pipes in the distance?
I know not what to be afraid of
But I cannot hide the fear.
BeautyI'd rather wear flowers in my hair,
forming a delicate chain
Than diamonds around my neck,
covering my tender blue veins
For with every precious petal
and every lucent leaf
I'm a living lesson
teaching beauty can not be bought
But rather it grows and flourishes
with every living thought
Expensive LiesI sit and stare at the toilet bowl.
A guy I know is bulimic.
When we compliment him
I see the twist of agony in his eyes
as his brain reprograms it
to sound like an expensive lie
that costs him another tear
in his tattered dignity.
Friends hurry to him,
to reassure him, to love him.
They tell him how beautiful he is.
We didn't know him before,
but he's definitely not fat now.
We whisper things in concern like;
body dysmorphic disorder.
'I know you'll never believe me
but you are so gorgeous -
not just on the inside.' Not just.
And they're right, I join in,
because they are right to say it
because it happens to be true -
he is stunning. Not just on the outside.
And we want him to see himself
the way we see him, beautiful.
And I join in because
I've felt that strangle of pain
in my stomach, bowels and belly,
when someone used to tell me lies.
So I know how he feels.
Only, he is beautiful on the outside
and I'm not.
He's not seeing reality in the mirror
and I am.
And people rush to correc
Fearing MeI'm not afraid to cry
and I do it
a lot more than you would guess.
It isn't always sadness,
I just feel like I need to,
feel everything so strongly
that it's the only way
to let go for a moment
because if I hold on for too long,
if my grip gets too tight
I'll break myself,
I will break you like glass
and we will both
I am a good guy
who hasn't yet found a way
to show it,
I am a good guy
who still identifies with the villains,
hides everything important
anything to throw you
off of my trail....
and I don't know why,
but I am trying.
Maybe I think
that if you could see me,
the real me,
you wouldn't want to look anymore,
want to be anywhere near me,
and the idea
that I can't add up
to be enough for you,
to be enough for me,
is so fucking heart breaking
I can hardly fathom it.
I can't say that it doesn't hurt
because it does,
it hurts a whole hell of a lot,
I've come to depend on pain,
to befriend misery
you're just a question marki met you so long ago
but back then our bodies were made of metal
and nowadays they’re made of the blades of
grass and dirt settling
underneath my fingernails.
my fingers are having a hard time
reaching the keys and
my organs are shaking mostly because i haven’t
eaten in two days but also
because i’m worried about the things you're doing to yourself.
we didn’t meet very long ago at all but it feels like forever ago
and you say you don’t know me
that you don’t know anyone
but baby you're turning into a skeleton and i’m peeling back my skin
to try and reach my bones, just like you.
i hope you're happy,
i’m covering the hard wood floors now
the bits and pieces splattered.
they are calling it a suicide but i’m calling it
a way to see my brain and
just how dark it has become, and honestly
i don’t want you to try and see about your’s.
i’m mourning the loss of my heart and wish you weren’t either -
A Kiss not Forgotten (a special tribute)Like a frost spread across valleys silent and dreary,
ever my longing lost in shimmers of shadow & wind
And days bled into years, the seas became deserts
But thoughts of thee would not perish
Thru memories untamed I staggered far and long;
upon solemn nights lit by the torch of your soul
O’ how deep I miss your fragrant cheer ..
Of warm evenings shared across Lake’s reverie,
watching horizons journey into Autumn’s dream
— wherest our hearts once bloomed a fabled sky
Those passions shared will forsake me not
Lest the Moon would bestow solace upon my ache:
I will lay marooned, haunted by thy seraphic-figure,
Or the ever fleeting caress of your gaze ...
So my soul shall yield to this mythic abyss; –
as I peer from my carriage to Nirvana
And thou away, from my arms, the Sun weeps
Unto eternity—my dear beloved, we are entwined
Forever our footprints cast in golden firmament
A kiss not forgotten in a ballet of light softly falling
I now bear the want
Black hole BulimicThe Composition:
I birth poems — not amaranths
in graveyards — not gardens.
sows seeds of doubt
into skeleton weeds.
A farmer plucks the bones
from Apollo's hyacinth; his
I binge on broken
cracked collectors of rocks,
of pebbles kidnapped
from barren beaches:
where crooked kings
buried in books whose
pages creak to crickets
in an abandoned abyss
of an attic—caskets on
an antiquated shelf. I
choke on the dust and
twitch in recoil.
The bickering sky
A cloud coughs—
The clock's scythe hand
swivels to the beckoning
twelve. Spastic ticking—
each bleak stroke
of a midnight heart.
The sundials do not work
now. The vampires know
I kill poems—
obligation steam machineas always
grinding the cankerous
of your cognition
until the lack of compassion
leaves you unlubricated
seized frozen bound stuck
only then the machine of
your fears will burst to steam
squealing to suckle
at the genius of my
the unsung soiled hero
of middle-class ferocity
savior of the undeserving
winding slowly deftly dying
martyr to the self-justified cause
as love for summer fades.late morning-
there's the tease of
snow in the clouds,
in the air, and the trees
have finally lost their
the sunlight is damp.
alters the room
as it graces my skin,
and for once
i don't wake up right away.
instead i lay
between my memory bitten
sheets, and i think
about all the times he said
that he hated winter.
i don't remember
when i began to love it,
and i don't care.
nothing can shatter that.
The Isolation ChamberWithin the isolation chamber
Lonely is my fight
Dark and scared I sit beneath
The piercing, harsh bright light.
Without the truth I speak all lies
Within my truth I stay
Isolated, perpetrated, forced to obey.
Why not just take us all away
All the gays, all the strays
Everyone who lives their way.
Outside the isolation chamber
Sleeps the birds and bees
Willow trees and perfect tales
The normal, one's who please.
Anyone who can withstand
The straight and guided wind
Those who take the fears of life
And remove them from within.
Crown of ThornsShe wakes up with red staining her pillow
and the taste of blood like iron in her mouth
It stains her teeth and leaks from her lips, and as she
rinses her mouth out, she can’t help thinking that
it’s better than dirt and ashes
it feels like she’s wearing a noose
of broken promises and shattered glass
that tightens around her throat with every day that passes
She nails a smile to her face
and doesn't let herself think the word dying
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More