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Post by _black phoenix_ on Oct 12, 2011 13:17:46 GMT -5
Feet walking, stopping, eyes hoping to see colours no longer there. Mountain peaks sliver through grey sky, white sun cutting edges as hands and fingers, cold, tremble. Go until the heart stops.
I miss you, Cain.
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Post by _black phoenix_ on Oct 12, 2011 14:09:57 GMT -5
I crack.. Nails biting, fingers loose.
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Post by _black phoenix_ on Oct 12, 2011 16:02:38 GMT -5
Cut away these scissors, bits of time and paper; Matted colours pressed. Your heart shows no blue.
Pull away these pencils, dirty shavings in my hair. Lead against hands, eraser black with ink, smudged too soon.
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Post by _black phoenix_ on Oct 12, 2011 17:04:00 GMT -5
Pulling suns strings
Tendrils of warmth misting, curling, creeping over pale leaves, soak into soft, too-soggy skin.
I pull on sun strings, aching -teeth gritting- for a colourful drop to bring wet roots back from rot.
Curled spine thrusts straight, reaching for a splash of light.
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Post by _black phoenix_ on Nov 28, 2011 22:07:32 GMT -5
Vile debris spinning churning I think of you to push him away but you bring me sadness, gone so long Fingers of roots planted too deep in a new start vomit please stay down stomach I want to run, burn this all away grass beneath my feet falling away too weak I crumble Fall. Sit. Let him walk all over me.
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Post by _black phoenix_ on Nov 28, 2011 22:33:06 GMT -5
I count every minute against the loneliness My cheeks sunken sockets like a sleepless zombie Im falling into another world.
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Post by _black phoenix_ on Nov 29, 2011 23:30:27 GMT -5
Im tearing and clawing at this person inside stuck cant get out Just want to run vomit as I tear through wet pavement, cement kicking up behind running feet - Hitting puddles mindless go dont stop
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Post by _black phoenix_ on Nov 4, 2012 22:53:59 GMT -5
Sitting in sifted smoke stale ash shifts from counter to desk little bits caught on fresh mascara.
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Post by _black phoenix_ on Jan 20, 2013 0:42:17 GMT -5
Sick I sit, in sweet sludge alone, I wallow. Churning vortex it stirs as bits and pieces crumble -break away- Edges are dried, scabby paint.. chipping off organs and fall away.
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siksimon
Demon Disciple
Blind leading the blind.
Posts: 524
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Post by siksimon on Mar 17, 2013 4:46:46 GMT -5
Hmm.. Lotta stuff here, hard to pick out a favorite just yet but I love the symbolism.
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