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La Volpe Heline Jan 2015
I wonder if you are blind to all that is not tear-soaked and lying prostrate at your feet feigning panic as they clutch at your hands. My pride is greater than this.

I do not need you.

I wonder if the word neglect has ever rung in your ears with waves of regret? No, not with the self-indulgent sloth of your so-called affection. Pawing, needy, forceful hands that take all I have to give, feeding back only enough to keep the illusion in place, to keep the drugs in my veins.

I don't want this.

I wonder if you were conscious when I was shedding silent tears, my forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. I was fighting to stay because I loved you.

I thought I loved you.
La Volpe Heline Dec 2013
Petals land on dancing ripples,
Echos of tiny drops,
Each holding stories of

Life

Love

Loss

Tiny circles of consequence cross and intertwine
Like two inconsistant lovers,
Crashing and fleeing in beautiful chaos.

Can we come and go so easily?
Each life touched will forever be changed,
The ripples left warped and inconsitant when we go.
But with each new drop, the ripples strengthen, whole again, for a moment more.

Eternal cycles
Follow through the flow of time as one becomes another.
Kindness through a single drop can change the way another lands.
And such, we shape the future.

O'er these puddles we will tread,
A waltz to celebrate the time we have.
Our days a short and living thing,
Intertwined in rings.
La Volpe Heline Oct 2013
I am a concentrated mess
A combination of crippled thoughts
This conflict of vicious melodies;
A malady of heart

Words that are jumbled
Seem to tumble from my lips
And I stumble over phrases,
Stuttering lines to make me sick

And my envious reflection,
An enemy to me,
Stares daggers at myself,
Because she hates all that she sees.

Yet your compliments leave complexions that are riveting in hue,
And the conflicts of my mind seem to eventually subdue.

Your fire leaves me flustered,
But just a little bit confused.
Fires are supposed to burn,
So why has yours refused?
La Volpe Heline Jun 2013
I'm kept awake by the shadows of men.
They dance in the walls to the sound of the rain on my windowsill.
They crawl into my bed and hold me as I sleep.

These phantoms I cannot abide.

I fell their warm cheek against mine as I sleep, but wake to find no one there.
I reach out across my pillow, but nothing returns my approach. There is no one there.

And so I wrap myself up in my blanket again and try to catch some sleep.
La Volpe Heline Feb 2013
Hello dear heart, it's me again.
I know I've shut you out,
But I could really use a friend.

My self esteem just took a trip
To Bermuda I think,
But I'm pretty sure without it,
My mind is going to sink.

My tongue is firmly pressed against
The roof of this dry mouth.
And the minutes, they all drag on,
Solemnly marching south.

Perhaps I'll find my words again
And say what's on my mind.
My tongue is always in the way,
And they don't have the time.

The clock marches impatiently
Keeping steady tempo
To the stepping of many feet.
I think I'll just lay low.

Perhaps one day I'll open up
to everyone around.
I open my mouth and breathe in...
Not a sound.
La Volpe Heline Feb 2013
Here in this field I lay to rest
Among the grass, I'm but a guest
The moon is rising palest white
My pallid mistress of the night
 
I wonder softly, "Do, pray tell,
Why do you rise and slowly swell
Just to grow weak and fall again?"
For in her fullness, she did wane
 
Then softly through the emerald field
She whispered to me, and revealed
"We have our time, and all must end,
But with our death, life starts again."
 
I closed my eyes and woke anew
The sky above a golden hue
It spread lightly across the trees
And wrapped around me in the breeze
 
This warmth, I knew was old as time
I couldn't help but call it mine
And as I let go of my life
My weary bones lay down their strife
 
I found within me peace of mind
For thoughts these clear were hard to find
With all these things that I have left
I would not fein leave you bereft
 
Though I grew old and went away,
Please know that nothing 's here to stay.
"We have our time, and all must end,
But with our death, life starts again."
La Volpe Heline Feb 2013
I am not a piece of art,
I am the product of your indiscretion.
I don't want your name,
I don't care about your profession.

Leave the pickup lines,
I'd rather drive a nail through my eyes.
No motive to disinterest,
I can't stand the self focused lies.

I am what you made,
Not an object to be sought after.
I crave meaningful talk
Instead of the shallow laughter.

— The End —