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Illyuziya
Illyuziya
Transmasculine The name is Shaw M. H. and I am an aspiring writer. I'm queer, he/they pronouns, AroAce, and a practicing witch. I love poetry and have a deep affection for Edgar Alan Poe.
Churning in, the way you spoke, it was intoxicating in this                   violent way that,                                                 overall                    was entrapping and shook shivers down the spinal cord of                                                                            my conscious Big wolf,                 gaping jaws,                                        drooling maw                                                                 Why are you teeth around my throat? May I pet your mane in reverence, sleeping in my wake                                                               dissembled, disjointed, disappearing Great beast,                      claws of rusted iron,                                                          teeth of glass                                                                                  Why are you paws crushing my throat?                                     Sickening sugary words! Doing anything                    for love? for attention? for what? Clutching, never letting go,                                                devouring whole.
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Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 10:49 AM UTC
3/3/2017
Churning in, the way you spoke, it was intoxicating in this                   violent way that,                                                 overall                    was entrapping and shook shivers down the spinal cord of                                                                            my conscious Big wolf,                 gaping jaws,                                        drooling maw                                                                 Why are you teeth around my throat? May I pet your mane in reverence, sleeping in my wake                                                               dissembled, disjointed, disappearing Great beast,                      claws of rusted iron,                                                          teeth of glass                                                                                  Why are you paws crushing my throat?                                     Sickening sugary words! Doing anything                    for love? for attention? for what? Clutching, never letting go,                                                devouring whole.
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21
Broken machine built of bones and blood, on the bruised backs of those                                                                                                                      I love your blind eye is nothing short of malevolence a violence in the silence Shriveled stars saturated in the salts of my missing seas, swapped with the sterling structures of silver and steel and stealing sanctuary from                                                                                               those I love your blind eye is nothing short of malevolence a violence in this silence Your peering perverted glance peruses with privilege over the pain                                               of those I love passing over that which you don't wish to witness your blind eye is nothing short of malevolence a violence in your silence My mind in massacre and mutilated matter, mashed by the mincing malice of Man                          disregarded by the Masses                                                                          and cast aside like that calloused                    carcass Cacophonous promises in the cavernous mouths of cowards                                                                 --- Rejoice! Retribution in the form of a rub out, ridiculing, self-reliance                the righteousness of Rule Ricocheting off of divinity and running through                       the Heart of those I love Find my falling fears, fickle in nature, on these fallowed floors and feel the ferocity of it                             fulfilling their prophecy, futilely fighting back the firing of hatred                 at those I love Fall to your knees!  Condemned to continue the cycles of the crowds and cower in the corners of your own crimes                                For those I love so, for those I fear for, for those I cry                                        for, for those I live in,  for those I hate so Your blind eye is nothing short of malevolence! a violence rests in your silence which hurts for this vice I won't forgive you never forget                                    Those I Love
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Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 10:58 AM UTC
"Those I Love"
Broken machine built of bones and blood, on the bruised backs of those                                                                                                                      I love your blind eye is nothing short of malevolence a violence in the silence Shriveled stars saturated in the salts of my missing seas, swapped with the sterling structures of silver and steel and stealing sanctuary from                                                                                               those I love your blind eye is nothing short of malevolence a violence in this silence Your peering perverted glance peruses with privilege over the pain                                               of those I love passing over that which you don't wish to witness your blind eye is nothing short of malevolence a violence in your silence My mind in massacre and mutilated matter, mashed by the mincing malice of Man                          disregarded by the Masses                                                                          and cast aside like that calloused                    carcass Cacophonous promises in the cavernous mouths of cowards                                                                 --- Rejoice! Retribution in the form of a rub out, ridiculing, self-reliance                the righteousness of Rule Ricocheting off of divinity and running through                       the Heart of those I love Find my falling fears, fickle in nature, on these fallowed floors and feel the ferocity of it                             fulfilling their prophecy, futilely fighting back the firing of hatred                 at those I love Fall to your knees!  Condemned to continue the cycles of the crowds and cower in the corners of your own crimes                                For those I love so, for those I fear for, for those I cry                                        for, for those I live in,  for those I hate so Your blind eye is nothing short of malevolence! a violence rests in your silence which hurts for this vice I won't forgive you never forget                                    Those I Love
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It happens when one wants it most not to. A gap a sliver a c h a s m           of the deepest, the darkest, the most unfathomable blackness. It y a w n s ...     open in a matter of milliseconds its lips sneaking up under unsuspecting toes.  They f a l l    in a dizzying                            downward                                               drop   o    n    i    g b   u    c    n                       and br eak in g   on the thorny outcropping of the      blackness as if there were jagged teeth.                                                   It closes then. It leaves only an ugly scar to remind that something has indeed transpired although the information of what exactly is lacking. It happens in an instant this gap                  this sliver this c h a s m              of the deepest, the darkest, the most unfathomable                          blackness.
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Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 8:37 PM UTC
The Blackness
Not a day in your life, war have your eyes witnessed You lay safe, secure, in your ignorant pocket of peace But their memories play before your eyes and their nightmare dance on your eyelids The chop of the fan blades remind you of the planes, menacing overhead and dropping fire from the sky The popping of kernels from the microwave wring forth panic-- Duck! They’re shooting! Duck for cover, you fool! The book, it merely fell, but was it truly a book? Or was it the boom of an artillery cannon? Screams of glee mingle into screams of pain. Your best friend, why don’t you reach out and save him? He’s only a few yards away. He’s in such pain, don’t let him die alone. Don’t let him die like this. Don’t let him die. Stepping in the puddles makes your skin crawl. You remember their blackened skin, rotted flesh. You step out of the water quickly. The open water is calm. Peaceful. Under the surface you can see them, the submarines. You move away from the shoreline. Your friend, hugging you from behind-- it’s their hand, just their hand. There was never a knife. They are your friend. Or are they? The memories. They’re not yours. Whose are they? Why do they tremble like tenor in your mind, ingrained in your DNA? The blood on your hands is not there, open your eyes! The jungle, the desert, the forest, the wasteland. You’re not there, you were never there. The blood on your hands is not there, open your eyes! Now the dark, it's suffocating. This is not your world of cracking rawhide and dirt. You were not there, this is not your reality. That white jacket should not make your breath hitch! That burning cross should not terrorize you so! Now the dark, it's suffocating. This is not your world of fabric stars and canvas trucks. You were not there, this is not your reality. That red armband should not make your breath hitch! That fire should not terrorize you so! Not a day in your life has this world brought its ugly head to look you dead in the eye and breath upon you, noxious breath liquefying your lungs and dissolving your eyes. You are safe-- that blood on your hands is not real-- you are safe-- this is not your reality-- how it terrorizes you so! These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. They are theirs, their memories, and you see them every time you close your eyes. These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. They are not yours and they never will be.
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Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 3:42 PM UTC
Memories
Not a day in your life, war have your eyes witnessed You lay safe, secure, in your ignorant pocket of peace But their memories play before your eyes and their nightmare dance on your eyelids The chop of the fan blades remind you of the planes, menacing overhead and dropping fire from the sky The popping of kernels from the microwave wring forth panic-- Duck! They’re shooting! Duck for cover, you fool! The book, it merely fell, but was it truly a book? Or was it the boom of an artillery cannon? Screams of glee mingle into screams of pain. Your best friend, why don’t you reach out and save him? He’s only a few yards away. He’s in such pain, don’t let him die alone. Don’t let him die like this. Don’t let him die. Stepping in the puddles makes your skin crawl. You remember their blackened skin, rotted flesh. You step out of the water quickly. The open water is calm. Peaceful. Under the surface you can see them, the submarines. You move away from the shoreline. Your friend, hugging you from behind-- it’s their hand, just their hand. There was never a knife. They are your friend. Or are they? The memories. They’re not yours. Whose are they? Why do they tremble like tenor in your mind, ingrained in your DNA? The blood on your hands is not there, open your eyes! The jungle, the desert, the forest, the wasteland. You’re not there, you were never there. The blood on your hands is not there, open your eyes! Now the dark, it's suffocating. This is not your world of cracking rawhide and dirt. You were not there, this is not your reality. That white jacket should not make your breath hitch! That burning cross should not terrorize you so! Now the dark, it's suffocating. This is not your world of fabric stars and canvas trucks. You were not there, this is not your reality. That red armband should not make your breath hitch! That fire should not terrorize you so! Not a day in your life has this world brought its ugly head to look you dead in the eye and breath upon you, noxious breath liquefying your lungs and dissolving your eyes. You are safe-- that blood on your hands is not real-- you are safe-- this is not your reality-- how it terrorizes you so! These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. They are theirs, their memories, and you see them every time you close your eyes. These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. These memories are not your own. They are not yours and they never will be.
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