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Literature
Souvent ces temps
Comme j'ai manqué d'air
et vainement tenté...
(l'horloge millénaire
de mon cœur a parlé)
s'il n'était plus question
d'amour ou bien d'aimer,
j'étais seul et ce pion
triste et la joue salée
des larmes nues et grises
des nuits longues et creuses.
L'abime est une méprise
dont la chair est désireuse.
Literature
Onslaught
it rushes over me
a gust of tumbling objects
protestations and pinheads
straining the rainbow stitches
that pin my soul together
a stabbing suggestion
complete with kiwi and tangerine
and words i dont quite understand
hurtle towards me
uncertainty bleaches the threads
binding me together
thoughts overwhelm
red coals and sweatpants
bits of cloth and ruby dust
are sprinkled across my mindscape
a crack appears
a spark
ignites bits of fluff
camo teddies and orange bubbles
a gaping hole
a devouring empty mouth
it occurs to me that i have lost
everything
the black whirlwind that
speeds across the landscape
shreds everything
but from the pu
Literature
homecoming
nearly home. nearly home. a space and time away from where you want to be: belonging to yourself. there is a midnight garden somewhere inside my lungs, black and tarry from the darkness i am siphoning from your lips to mine, trying to let the light in, trying to stop the hurt becoming a euphemism for two vertical red lines drawn in a bathtub. you have turned me inside out. raw, vulnerable; the silence is an agony.
you have wormed your way inside and I have agreed to be your golem, a clay replacement for the affections of the woman who bedded herself beneath your skin and rearranged your spine. even so, let me give til i am a dry husk, let me
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Something I wrote the other day, very much in the spirit of Apcolaypse World
Mature
© 2016 - 2024 Norrolith
Comments1
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Love the detailed description of the eyes! Very descriptive and vivid, my friend.