the Hell of a queenshe is lying on bedshe has her dress in white laceThan her servant had preparedon the bedside table she has afraid of the futureshe does not wantthat this man touches her bodyshe does not want to become a queenthis role is not for herher dreams are forgottenShe does not likethis Heart full of hatethis is not possiblethe door of the bedroom opens slowlythe King looks the bedwith an smile perverthis desire is indecentthe pain invades her bodythe minutes seem interminableshe has ache , it is a nightmareshe was a girl of a lost villagenow, she is a queentrapped of a powerthat she has never desired
a forgotten starthe hotel bedroom is plunged Into DarknessShe lights a cigarettethis is her second packageShe takes a glass of whiskeythe bottle is on the bedside table she is almost emptyher career slowsshe was a starNow a shadowthe phone rings no morethese contracts are less lucrativethis is a descent into hell who approachesshe plays in an series rottenin of films without major interesta line of cocaine is on the bedshe hesitates, the cocktail is dangerousthis is a beauty of yesterdayshe is diving into a black holeher success has vanished
The perfume of liesI am in love with youbut I know you is a liarEvery day, the smell permeatedyour pants , your shirther perfume invades my worldI sleep with youbut I felt her presencewe make loveyou thought she wasto my placethe truth is hardto accept, to digestyour lies are uselessour story is overmy love for youis not deadbut I am not a toyI am a woman injured
the house of crimethe farm is abandonedthis is an ideal placeto hide themselvesto exit this spiralWitnessed a crimeShe has Fled the houseor she was livingthe man with the sabera mercenary paid by her husbandto eliminate its opponentsin the business worldhas noticed a shadowhe saw that she was gazingThis cruel executionshe is a fugitivechased by a killerShe has confidence in anyoneshe wanders in the wildfor not returningin the house of his pastor her husband waits her returnto be able to bury her alive
The weight of a secrether secret is heavy to wearSometimes, she wants to screamdisgust, shame, sorrowher secret is toxicher body is contaminated by a feeling of guilther secret is a spider's Webone thing that has devastated her teenshow could she forgotten?If nobody is listening of her pain
Stolen Happinessthe house is coldthe life is deada perfidious perfume fills every corner of this placebefore this was happinessone day everything changeda bitch came destroy everythingNow I am sad and disillusionedmy fairy tale became a nightmare
her first painshe cries in her roomalone in the middle of the bedshe looks at the computer screenor photos from the pastpass loopshe loved to madnessShe accepted everythingshe confided her intimate secretsshe trustedNow there are still memoriesin his headthat hurthis first lovehis first serious relationshipeverything is brokenBecause a teasehas slept with himhe ruined everythingfor a bitchshe falls into an abyssdifficult to overcomefirst love, first painWhy love hurts?she does not knowshe eats chocolatein watching the tearsfall on her diary
The scalpel of paindisgusted with its appearanceshe succumbed to surgeryfor a better lifefor be noticedto be lovedthe operation is finishedshe became very beautifula sexy girlwith beautiful formsThis is his new lookbut in the mirrorShe was always the samein a modified bodyShe dared not look
Phobiathe lights are extinctthe wall advances towards meI'm sick, I am afraidthe crowd ignores my painI fall into a black holeI scream my distress in indifferencehelp me, this is too hardhelp me, give me your handI need a little light
Does Death Hurt?Does death hurt?When the knife digs into fleshdo you fall into your knees in painor simply in shock of motion?When you slip away in the dark of sleepdoes the dream still remainas you travel to worlds unknown?When the drugs hit your bodydoes your heart stop suddenlyor can you feel the imminent end?When the noose slips tightdoes your head feel heavyand your limbs feel numb?When the water rushes into the castle only of aircan you feel your breath cut off?When the dirt piles overand the air runs outcan you feel the choking?So riddle me this,oh master of death,does it hurt to die?
Quietly, GentlyShy smiles and fluttering butterflies,My heart would beat faster when I looked into your eyes.Even then, as I held you warmly in my arms,Every word you said put me under your charm.Dozing off, I sent you a little smile.And told you that it’s fine to fall asleep for a while.When you awoke, the sun was setting for its own time to sleep.So I pulled you close and breathed in so deep.Quietly, in the dark, I slowly fell in love.Gently in my arms, I called you my little dove.
Faded Memories of YouThink back to the days,The days that we remained,Tight in each other's arms."Together forever 'til we fall apart".Back over the times,The times that we stayed,Under the blanket."Here with you, I will always be safe".Through the moments,The moments in which we kissed,Like nobody else would love you more."I promise, only you I shall adore".The secrets you told,The love that we hold,It all starts to crash down."Together forever 'til we fall apart".I wander alone,Setting myself to the danger,Of this world."Here with you, I will always be safe".Time to let go,Leaving only memories to remain.You and me, now alone."I promise, only you I shall adore".
La noche es friaLa noche es fríaMi alma está tristeMi amor está muertoMi vida es destruidaLa noche es fríaTe echo de menosLa vida es una putaMi arma está cargada
The feelings I can't expressTimes like this when I can’t find the rights words.Times like this when I find myself crying.As I have no way to express.But this pencil twirling in my hand.Sometimes I’ll make art, and proudly show it.Sometimes I’ll make shit, and quickly destroy it.With either I find they both seem to end in the same way.With a simple message, strewed through long and tedious words.That could be said much simpler, and probably has.But still I say it, for it’s all I have.
because i have toimpaled& wreaking havoc on theseyoung bonesmore than endorphins &planes out of controlpretending that ifnot-so-masochisticallyi--p a r a l y z e d:a manifestationinstilled in bedsheets& ghosts
BreatheYou inhaled herAnd exhaled meTaking in deap slow breathesBut breathing out fastWhen she holds youYou breathe her inWith each moanEvery time you say her nameYou exhale meIn time back I filled your lungsI was spreadingI was in your cellsI traveled into your musclesI made your heart beatWith each beat you took more of meYou could feel meI was in your beingI was part of youI didn't mind
drunken sinners1.the sky had bled introverted colors ofreds and purples, like some drunken painter had decided todeclare his independence. 2.you kissed her pale pink lips,and i thought about why you'd love such ahomesick murmur.3.the liquor was golden and gleamingin your rustyhands,and your voice after you drank a glasswas grunge and grey andyou were different afterwards. like someone had lacerated out your heartfrom your chest and left it beating in myhands. 4.you were combing through the bible likean unread diary,and i could see jesus's disapproving face from yourunshaven chin.5. you were sinning andyou were also adam and i was eveand we were both damned tohell.
Flaking Photographs We see the greatness of faces belittled in little boxes with windows; still shattered stairs. by Yielded
Stolen KissI wish I was a poem. I wish I could be summed in three stanzas and bring shimmering relief to literature students on dreary Monday mornings. I wish to be the sugar they sprinkle into tea they drink from carnival glass to make them relax. If only they could read and have me brush along their jawlines, tingle in their fingertips like the lit fuse on a firecracker. If they read me aloud I would taste of pureed flowers, frost thin and light with marigold their every spoken word.(College tastes like burnt bagels and monsters. It’s wanting to run forever, but being unable to move. The lines are too long. Too slow. Sleep sticks like peanut butter to everyone’s brains and lashes. They’re zombies because they know the end is near, shuddering in panic from winter chills and confusion, so desperate for some meaning.)I asked one of these people, a tattooed girl, if I could taste her breath. “Sorry, I’ve just run out,” she said, hot steam from her sweat misting
The Melody of a Love SongThe way you move me,Like the melody of a love song,Stuck on replay.“Fly away with me”,Said the lyrics.As you warm my hand with yours.As your voice draws to a whisper,The sweet beat slows.Chills and goosebumps overflow my body.And when we kiss,The melody silences.But only for a moment.Now I can hear your heart pound,Raging to it’s own beat.Your own love song.
MyselfThe jar of tears has fallen to pieces, lost are the memories from within the creases.They've all abandoned me, my silent friends, our bonds have withered beyond their ends.So predictable this scene truly was, the girl who fell from not a single cause.Twas my own fault, for I banished all help, rotted to pieces within myself.Though alas a mark has been etched within stones, "My soul lives forever without my bones."
Don't Be Like red WineA lieIs like pouring red wine on a white sheetIt will keep spreadingTill it can’t spread anymoreDo you want to be like the wine?Or do you want to tell the truthAnd deal with what comes from it.
The Birth of WaterThe clouds swelled and strolled across the sky like great grey whales making an annual trek across a placid black ocean. Wind, the force that was herding the clouds along, was also nipping and pinching frigidly at the bare skin of my back. The skies blinked once--twice in a row, a three second show of purple light. My head tilted back, my eyebrows lifted like kites on my face. I watched the sky with eager longing. Another flash of purple lightning. Mother Nature was teasing me. The clouds were pregnant with the ocean's child, and I was humbly waiting, shirtless in the parking lot, for them to give birth to the desert rain.
To Drink!Thou eternal drop of paradise!Thy wick of love in snowy eyesHas lit the coals of restless time,Again alit the poet's rhymeWhich grows amidst the winter tideLest all asleep with morning's bride,And yet the quill shall never dieAnd passion's juice will never dry,For man was made for mellow pleasureTo drink to Bacchus and his treasure.Thou joyous trickle of delight!Lurid friend of the sparkling night,Thy gleam befriends foregoing scarsAnd echoes aglow the distant stars,As longing lips assail the tearsOf Aegir's sweetened blend in yearsAnd parched the throat undone by speechWill breach the reason bound by reach,And then the warm vaporous raysAnd mankind through her Maker's gaze.Thou fountain of unravished grace!A flagon lent Beauty a face,And art will dwell forever moreWhere genteel meets the jagged shore,Frolics adrift the fluent brewEvery violet Baudelaire grew,And nestles along the golden bayThe voice of a lost Hemingway.What joy, what bliss, what cheer, what
Broken Hearts Still BeatingThe lightning-spliced sky illuminates my bedroomand I'm crouched in the corner, embraced by the dark,thinking of how there could have been a chancefor me to wake up next to you, your emerald eyeswebbed with emotion, your body limpfrom jerking in your sleep. I imagine ruffled sheets,broken lamps, and permeating heat.I think of how we could have jogged togetheralong roadsides and doubled over with thornsin our ribs at your feeble attempts to whistle Dixie.I'm collapsing inward, reminiscing on the truthsI should have told you and how every boy I passhas your face, your dark brown hair, your lips.And I cry. Oh, do I cry.I saw you hunched over one day, exhaustedfrom nightmares, sipping Gatorade and recitingpoetry about there being beauty in decay,and I couldn't help but think that youwere living proof of that phenomenon.I wanted to cry for you and tell you about that timea lady ran into me at Barnes & Noble and I'd hadno earthly idea that I was alive until she turned ar
Music is throughSoft keys give way to your feather light fingersPaper-thin cuts rock and ivory like half-molten butterbut you(you and the barely-there tap of your nails, the eerie clicks that do not echo but nonetheless linger) convince it to sound likea voluntary death, a willing surrender,instead of mere sweet murderPerhaps you have put this same spell over meYou’d play; I’d listen,Sitting enchanted and near enough to see how the light breaks on your hair the same way your fingers build and break,Create and abandonCherish and spurn like overstrained loversYour favourite was the fresh twitter of staccato notesMine, the release of the pedal, the steady thump of a beating heart
Right NowI remember how it all startedIt was a quiet December day like todayThat turn into something that I never would expectedBut it feels bittersweet knowing it's goneOr feels like how a child is lost in the big world out thereJust an empty feelingPeople say love is a drugFrom the start to finishA high that everything is perfect or nothing can go wrongBut when it is gone, you feel the withdraw symptoms that won't go awayBut no I'm just taking it inOut the window of my apartment bedroom againTomorrow I'll be gone I don't know when I'll be backBut in this world everything can change just like thatCaught up in everyday lifeDoesn't seem like nobody caresWalking out seems like the only optionNo one will miss me right?Find myself somewhere else because home ain't what it used to beMom and Dad were fighting about everythingFrom dishes to who is looking after the child I hadI didn't know what to doBut no I'm taking it inOut the window of my apartment bedroom againThe T.V is o
Dead flowerA perfume of dead permeates this roselike this flower, thou hast witheredNow I'm sad