nokomisadonis - Hello Poetry

i stand as close as humanly possible to the fire for my a c h i n g b o n e s they weep but no one will be warm enough not for the lava you made creep down my cheeks and they course through my body like wildfire and i, a decaying forest. i try my best to be as useful to the soil as physically possible for dead matter.

0

Nov 13, 2016

Nov 13, 2016 at 9:22 AM UTC

nokomisadonis

100 degrees

i stand as close as humanly possible to the fire for my a c h i n g b o n e s they weep but no one will be warm enough not for the lava you made creep down my cheeks and they course through my body like wildfire and i, a decaying forest. i try my best to be as useful to the soil as physically possible for dead matter.

9

standing in the doorway, marble and piercing, a glazed gaze forever so long, curling crickets and many other mystics amidst, the somber song resting on the scene...

0

nokomisadonis

Oct 25, 2016

Oct 25, 2016 at 9:36 AM UTC

moonwalker

halted.

standing in the doorway, marble and piercing, a glazed gaze forever so long, curling crickets and many other mystics amidst, the somber song resting on the scene...

3

i need someone who will love me all the time. not just when they're lonely & bored, & running out of things fragile enough for them to take over & call 'mine'. i need someone who will love me when i'm sickly sweet cherry cordial, and not just when i'm drowsy red wine. not just when i'm their cup of tea that they leave unfinished in the sink because they've stopped to cry. i need someone who'll love me even when i am a **** when i am a wildflower. not just when i'm the blooming roses, wilting from the time they accidentally knocked the watering can over.

0

Sep 26, 2016

Sep 26, 2016 at 3:45 AM UTC

nokomisadonis

in the name of misery

i need someone who will love me all the time. not just when they're lonely & bored, & running out of things fragile enough for them to take over & call 'mine'. i need someone who will love me when i'm sickly sweet cherry cordial, and not just when i'm drowsy red wine. not just when i'm their cup of tea that they leave unfinished in the sink because they've stopped to cry. i need someone who'll love me even when i am a **** when i am a wildflower. not just when i'm the blooming roses, wilting from the time they accidentally knocked the watering can over.

11

when you touch her do you think of me? because every silent night I think of you honey.

0

nokomisadonis

Sep 26, 2016

Sep 26, 2016 at 3:41 AM UTC

cara-may

Honey

when you touch her do you think of me? because every silent night I think of you honey.

1

the sky sometimes sets fire to the wind and though the flames spell out a plea, the sky's hands remain hidden deep in his seat. the sky watches the writhing and he swallows the lump in his throat. they're just twirling, he hopes. yellow stands for joy! that's what the roses told him when they pricked him with their thorns. when he oozed yellow paint from his fingertips, they told him it was joy. and the red, it stood for love. the minefield left behind when the skin was singed from his throat. it was red, and they told him he would cope. the orange could stand for no other than the sun - when his pupils cracked from dilating too hard, because her light blinded him. and it could never be undone. the wind is charred now, and slithers on the ground. i hope it finds solace in being found.

0

Aug 27, 2016

Aug 27, 2016 at 11:21 AM UTC

nokomisadonis

an ode to his cigarettes

the sky sometimes sets fire to the wind and though the flames spell out a plea, the sky's hands remain hidden deep in his seat. the sky watches the writhing and he swallows the lump in his throat. they're just twirling, he hopes. yellow stands for joy! that's what the roses told him when they pricked him with their thorns. when he oozed yellow paint from his fingertips, they told him it was joy. and the red, it stood for love. the minefield left behind when the skin was singed from his throat. it was red, and they told him he would cope. the orange could stand for no other than the sun - when his pupils cracked from dilating too hard, because her light blinded him. and it could never be undone. the wind is charred now, and slithers on the ground. i hope it finds solace in being found.

13

there is a fairy tale in which a mighty princess cowers, under the vines that wrap around her fingers. sweet honeysuckle, they whisper brave nothings. they snake up her legs & cling onto her skin. she needs, she knows. she wants to rip her veins apart with rose thorns as her heart grows. she dances with the petals and mixes them with her hair, raining ashes into the air. the uncanny ability to make a king's crown slide. she melts his armour & makes a gold plate, for he would never know cyanide-ridden nettles was what he ate. poison ivy, the colour of her eyes and her envy. she throws out her silk ties and hexes the maidens next door, she sinks into her demons and lays to rot on the floor.

0

Aug 27, 2016

Aug 27, 2016 at 11:08 AM UTC

nokomisadonis

why i can't throw my dead cacti out

there is a fairy tale in which a mighty princess cowers, under the vines that wrap around her fingers. sweet honeysuckle, they whisper brave nothings. they snake up her legs & cling onto her skin. she needs, she knows. she wants to rip her veins apart with rose thorns as her heart grows. she dances with the petals and mixes them with her hair, raining ashes into the air. the uncanny ability to make a king's crown slide. she melts his armour & makes a gold plate, for he would never know cyanide-ridden nettles was what he ate. poison ivy, the colour of her eyes and her envy. she throws out her silk ties and hexes the maidens next door, she sinks into her demons and lays to rot on the floor.

11

i held his hand as we sank into the shore. glass shards, ripping & stinging our feet. but i could not ask for more. i could not ask at all. the ocean loomed - a heavy shadow, too dark to be blue. it lapped at our wounds, like a hungry tomb and the wind was begging for me to fall. quicksand, almost. we were knee deep into the wrecked atlantis of the creatures who used to live on the beach. they once held hands too. they once had someone to call. the biggest of waves it was his home it was his place i could not save him from grace it swallowed him whole. and i, a carcass along the shore. i began to understand why hermit ***** said goodbye to their shells with a drawl.

0

Aug 27, 2016

Aug 27, 2016 at 11:07 AM UTC

nokomisadonis

our first date

i held his hand as we sank into the shore. glass shards, ripping & stinging our feet. but i could not ask for more. i could not ask at all. the ocean loomed - a heavy shadow, too dark to be blue. it lapped at our wounds, like a hungry tomb and the wind was begging for me to fall. quicksand, almost. we were knee deep into the wrecked atlantis of the creatures who used to live on the beach. they once held hands too. they once had someone to call. the biggest of waves it was his home it was his place i could not save him from grace it swallowed him whole. and i, a carcass along the shore. i began to understand why hermit ***** said goodbye to their shells with a drawl.

20

tosses around her words so she can watch them fall and make a dent in the earth, a dearth. she fills it up with water and prayers but she can never harvest anything except for love. that's where her body comes from - someone else's curves, brimming to the top & exploding with doves. if there was ever a volcano that erupted just to shower everyone with petals and pearls, it would be her. a curse she holds to be so tender. but god, i wish i was her.

0

Aug 9, 2016

Aug 9, 2016 at 10:21 AM UTC

nokomisadonis

she's left handed

tosses around her words so she can watch them fall and make a dent in the earth, a dearth. she fills it up with water and prayers but she can never harvest anything except for love. that's where her body comes from - someone else's curves, brimming to the top & exploding with doves. if there was ever a volcano that erupted just to shower everyone with petals and pearls, it would be her. a curse she holds to be so tender. but god, i wish i was her.

3

i stand here with a hole in my chest. someone unearthed the key and dug up all the rest, their grimy hands scratching and scraping into the dark. Unsure of what they'll find, but they wouldn't mind leaving the tomb with a few antiques, maybe one or two. i wish they bagged my soul with them. it's rusting itself blue.

0

Aug 9, 2016

Aug 9, 2016 at 10:04 AM UTC

nokomisadonis

treasure pool

i stand here with a hole in my chest. someone unearthed the key and dug up all the rest, their grimy hands scratching and scraping into the dark. Unsure of what they'll find, but they wouldn't mind leaving the tomb with a few antiques, maybe one or two. i wish they bagged my soul with them. it's rusting itself blue.

7