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Jul 2015 · 583
know you don't
Oberon Jul 2015
i grew to be close friends
with the torment of small talk.
then came a time where i realised
that much like the homes
where we seek warmth,
i am strong enough to
endure earthquakes
and live with the cracks.

back when love was due
i daringly picked my poison:
the one with music in his veins.
the garish opals,
a cluster of a thousand suns
in your eyes are blinding,
but i live to see you.

with craving too grand for my husk,
i will crush my roses against yours.
once again reminding me how
for the bitter taste of pretense,
i fell six feet deep.
inspired by my lame mood because he's never coming back
Mar 2015 · 461
1989
Oberon Mar 2015
remember the nights
we jumped the fence and
lie on abandoned lands?
we talked of tomorrow
and sang of true love
like both were promised.

the bruises on my shins;
of the same violet shade
as the skies of said nights,
still prettily dwell
after all these years.

yes, the same way your whispers
are the ghosts under my bed,
how every inch of the boardwalk
still reeks of your scent,
i still see your face
whether it be laced in
sweet dreams or nightmares.

all i have left of you are
ugly and pretty **** sad,
but though i haven't seen you
in the longest time, i bet you are still
crazy beautiful.

so tell me, love.
did the summer fling
you chased like the last train home;
the fire in the iridescent eyes of
that midnight *****;
a future wife you tried to find
on the bottom of cheap ***** shots
or the ***** ground of alleys on
dark rainy days;
ever mend the bullet holes?

but worry not,
for even when i fade,
i am the star so near in
our constellation of two.
when you seek,
*i will find you.
one day, when all your skin is tattered,
your palms are much too rough to hold mine,
and the last girl bled dry your beautiful heart,
i hope you come running to my door step,
and i will fix you.
Feb 2015 · 967
inferno
Oberon Feb 2015
for humanity's sake,
bare to me all that you are.

we will paint these screens in
the shade of our souls.
i want your 2.a.m thoughts
inked on my skin paper thin,
every inch marked as yours
until kingdom come.

sing me to sleep the rhythm
of your biggest fears,
the darkest of all your secrets.
ever so gently my fingertips will
strum your beaten heartstrings;
we sin in perfect harmony.

this is the art of turning
walking pandemoniums
into treasure gold.

though your eyes are
clouded with wrongs and
so are mine,
in hell we'll burn
brighter than
heaven's light.
stay with me.
Feb 2015 · 1.4k
magnetic
Oberon Feb 2015
your raven hair falls
so lingeringly
surrounding the roses
blooming on your cheeks
the barren air kisses
your small tan face
good morning

your mouth whispers of words
in a language that
took me forever and a day to fathom
but it took me a mere second
to drown in the golden of your orbs
the glimmer on the caspian sea
leaving me suffocated
gasping for air

until you pulled me
up and into
a spiraling labyrinthe
of endless summer nights
our love forever
carved into towering cherry trees

you saved
my mooning soul
and made me
a slave to your beauty
a long overdue antidote
madly overdosing me to
a point of **no return.
♡♡♡
"at day you are the Sun that gives me warmth, at night you are the Moon enrapturing me in romance."
♡♡♡
Feb 2015 · 846
ballad k212
Oberon Feb 2015
i am a fatal muse
skin scarred
murky scarlet
my mr. hyde
lips dripping with
lethal poison

we are
not demons
and surely
not saints

but tonight,
as we lay our worn-out bones
and swallow whole
the starless night,
as we laugh at how our world
that is drifting into
delirium thinks
love is a disease,

i see heaven in your eyes
and i know
you see it in **mine.
"i’ll give you the world, just be its master."
Oberon Feb 2015
the winters
here in montauk
had frozen me
i am now
brittle bones
blood on my lips
lilac veins vivid
on my skin
silvery

i can no longer
count all these
dead nights for
my fingertips
have grown
a little numb

the exact way
the crystal stem
of the limpid glass
between yours
can never grasp
your heat

the very way
that sinful scarlet
liquid bead perch
on your full
crimson lips
unaware of its
good fortune

precisely the way
that beauty on the
other end of the
table veiled
burnt sienna
will cravingly gaze
into your worried eyes
but only one of
two hearts
will glow

the other will remain
mundane
and mine will always
**yearn
"i’m more and more afraid
because i’m not like myself before.
i’m scared to see myself getting weaker.
without you, even the air around me is heavy."
(edited. thanks for the input! ♡)
Feb 2015 · 1.7k
calliope
Oberon Feb 2015
we are not the
nicholas sparks novel
read wrapped in comfort
of store-bought quilts
on rainy days

or an ed sheeran song
in long-haul flights
flying us
into one another's
longing embrace
once in
a blue moon

how long will
the movie screens
and best-selling novels
continue to
romanticise a
love like
ours
all of its
torturous;
troubling;
tragic glory

even with dreams
of your laugh
and the most short-lived
imageries of your crescent eyes
the sheets on your side
of the bed remain
perfectly
uncreased
i cannot stop
my heavy lids
and tired bones
from gravitating into
both Arcadia
and Erebus:
another
sweet,
wicked
dream
of
**you.
i'm just.. a little bit broken,
a little bit tired,
a little bit..
missing you.
Feb 2015 · 981
jack of shadows
Oberon Feb 2015
though two broken people
will never outrun
the breaking dawn

in your tired eyes
colours slowly vanishing
are the vast galaxies
grace of the heavenly bodies
so gently encased

and in your thinning veins
i still feel your blood
streaming wildly
like comets running
in the dead of night

in the depths of
my shattered heart
i feel the threads
of tonight's sky—
the tightrope we
have so carefully
tiptoed on, daunted
by the morning sun
—slowly fraying

as we watch all of the stars fade
one by one into morning
and Venus comes to light
your flaming touch is
slipping through my fingers
a bitter end
of **our last night
"lumière, darling. lumière over me."
Feb 2015 · 1.4k
9/10/14: seoul and tokyo.
Oberon Feb 2015
12.30 a.m
the town drenched with
the never-ending fall of rain
still horribly soaking with
sinners and saints looking for love in
cold sheets;
dark winding alleys;
telephone lines;
and every where in between
this solitude is becoming
more a safe haven
if anything

5 a.m
city lights on the river
and it takes me back to
the familiar print of checkered blue shirt
draped on her arm
and how it complimented
her pale skin and red lips
ash blue hair in the summer breeze
voice like the dawn of spring
everything i'm not and never will be
yesterday's cup of sad americano
on a lonely table for two
on a wintry october night
growing colder and colder
by the second

6 a.m
the now bright sky still cries
with me
the blinding lights of terminals
bustling with hellos and goodbyes
mock me
black knit sweater black ripped jeans
and heart now stained black as i remember
your eyes forming phases of the moon
round curious, crescents bright
the you who can't hide it
the warmth of the sun seep through my clothes
a mark of a new day, another chance to wonder
whether today is another to
ponder upon what ifs what could've beens and should've beens

10.55 a.m
i'm ready to leave the pretend love
who had already left me first
when you kissed me
on the tip of
your tongue
were a name
and a taste
of another
i'd rather not know.
Feb 2015 · 1.4k
reverie
Oberon Feb 2015
i fell asleep
to your ticking bomb
of a heart
as you run your
cold metal rings
and weak skinny hands
through my hair
drenched with midsummer rain
you warm me with
whispers of
sweet nothings
empty promises of
happy endings
and a summer home
on top of a hill
you ever so lovingly
inject my veins
with a surge of life
enveloping my flesh
heat of your being

in my dream
the bitter cold air
contrast
the undying sparks
your skin against mine
enclosed by the safety of
four sand colored walls
thirteen feet tall
and wordless exchanges of
our favourite
three-word sentence
my now empty shell
is bound to crack
the moment i look
into your eyes
my trembling hand
intertwined with yours
i silently scream
my desperate pleas

to God
who is ever so lightly
loaning you borrowed time
when angels only deserve
tomorrows made certain
eternity pronounced
forever promised
the ticking clock
a sound i came to hate
as it serves as
our sailboat
drifting us
away to
withering magnolias
trees becoming bare
on sad empty boulevards
as winter called
upon growing fear of
taking one last breath
and not taking one
at all

my consciousness struck
a runaway train
found its way to my
winding track of a mind
my head still
soundly pressed against
your ticking time bomb of a heart
the ballad of our approaching farewell
its coda drawing near
it brings me to my knees
how a dying soul
can make me feel
so **** alive
"love takes hostages. it gets inside you. it eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness."
Feb 2015 · 572
x
Oberon Feb 2015
x
the foolish thing about me is that
even in the most starless of nights
i swear i see your face in the sky
thin contrails define the contours of
your face and the faint luster of
the quarter-moon is
your sirenic beam
illuminating

my lonely castles in the air
this solitary heart of mine
can't bear to scatter the stones
for my feeble soul will only gather
each and every last one splintered
my fingertips under your vicious spell
like in a catalepsy i cannot depart will build
myriad statues; columns of tributes chastely paid

down to your fangs crooked, eyes black,
hair crimson gossamer, $2 acid green leather shoes
and cigarette fixed between ghastly ripe lips
uttered infinite slanders and sins then
the swan song sang way too soon
i am tethered to your morbid grandeur
prisoned by your hard-bitten disposition
such enticing torment i revel in
i hate this poem.

— The End —