Like the insect to the light, quite the opposite here.
In this duskless place, in this non shadow realm, they find the new shade beautiful.
More and more of them were filling the room.
Seeking out the darkest of dark.
The shadow of shadows.
The shade of shades. I then realize that these little beautiful creatures are looking for the source. They are looking for me.
I run about the room from corner to corner. The little pattern shaped insect like creatures were getting closer and closer to me. I did not want to touch such a beautiful being made of infinite light. I don't know what my shadow touch would do to them. Would it kill them? Would it hurt them? But then I find myself feeling as though they want to be touched. As if my darkness is their salvation. The former light room now looked as if a bucket of black paint exploded inside of a white room. There was shadow steps everywhere as well as shadow marks on the walls. It was not long after that The room was almost completly black with darkness. The light insect like creatures looked like stars in space. I was the darkness they rolled on. It soon got to the point where I was cornered. The room was now filled with these beautiful creatures. All of which knew I was in the corner of the room. It was the only corner where light was left. As soon as that part of the room dimmed they all flew into me. They swirled and spiraled around me. It was amazing! It reminded me of a galaxy. I opened my hand and one of them landed on it. There was then a beautiful shine and sound. Then a voice uttered two words. " Thank you." The creature was gone. Then I felt someone hold my hand!
I am the last hand on the earth
To compound and push down
To press the headache as it sounds
And fade it out
Away into the nothingness which awaits its new master
I am standing upside-down
Twisted inside until out
Living in the unlivable town
For I am the last hand on the earth
And as it stands I'm falling down
She got much gifts from open hands
Those golden hearts from foreign land
But though they came from farther place
Their hearts are closer, oh such a grace
Somehow it's good to take and keep
Yet there are hands that do not sleep
They are not tired of sharing gifts
Helping others with no buts and ifs
She loves to see herself like them
Sharing her gifts, her precious gems
Even the gifts she has today
Her skills and talents, that's her bouquet
And now she finds another dream
Like mending rips from hem to hem
She wants to share her open hands, too
With songs of hope for me and you
you are a child. you are the passage of time.
you are someone i love(d). i asked for your hand
and you gave it to me. cut it off and everything.
the only thing i can hold is your hand. it is
disconnected from the rest of you.
you are standing in front of me, with stubs of muscle,
blood, and bone in the absence of your palms.
when i say palm, what i mean to say is a flower.
what i mean to say is a zinnia. what i mean to say is
an entire garden of whatever. when i try to
intertwine our fingers, i cannot. your fingers are
immovable. your heart is too. you are a human body
made of 63% water, but every single flower inside of you
is still wilting. i say Come here i have an entire lake
underneath my ribcage. Come here i can teach you
how to swim all you have to do is let me. Come here
i love you, but only underwater.
When I am
When I am not
Whenever I am asked.
I am tormented
On the brink of madness
If I go through
Yet another sleepless night
Whenever I am asked,
We talk more
Smile and joke
The wrong words.
I am worried
Ashamed of breaking
I am crying for help
I will say
When I am
When I am not
When I am everything but.
The biggest lie
The truth behind
I am not.
Like the ring of a bell in the distance
some trance which in an instance
can seem like it lasts an eternity,
I embrace the natural wild just as much as I can,
I know it's not a normal thing
but life is short and I am happiest free.
Lost in the moonlight halo or entrenched
in active chaotic madness, it's all the
same to me. A vagabond, a fool,
I earned this by word of mouth alone,
never again truly kissed, scarred and yet my poor
living is sacred, there is no place I can call my own,
this all I am thinking as I drift off to sleep
for the very last time, as you hold my shaky hand,
there is little I'd have left for my journey while
they take all they can that is left
of my world all for the sake of greed,
of nothing but selfish sentimentality,
I am already guilty, instantly proven guilty,
so for once let me be.
The moon is sitting
on her window
lovely wisps of pink scattered sky
glancing at her behind the trees
she imagines your hands
on her night skin
and she wants to write poetry
on your palm
she wants to write anything
about the oceans and the stars
and she wants it all
to mean something.
she misses you so bad.
I hope I make your hands tremble
Make your heart shake
Cause an earthquake in your veins
Let me in
To hold your heart
To hold your hand
Whisper taps on the window panes of my mind
Drop like droplets
On your skin
Do I make your heart race?
Racing like the wind through barren standing silhouettes
My hands warm in the radiance of your sunshine
Do I make your heart race? Your skin itch?
Sly, touch and smile
So soft, sensual
Your eyes speak melodies
Let me harmonize
To the breath your lungs breathe
Do I make your heart race?