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sam-23
23/M/London Love writing poetry.
I'm merely a man and that's my foible. I can't hand-pick you the stars when night just ripe and the paleness of dusk suffocate me to sleep. I wish I could plump pillows the dreams that fill eyes that rich blade of brown; or unpick wounds from the skin you've learned to wire your bones against. I can't will fields to gold all I can promise is the folly of a laborious heart. I want to see as your hair leans grey, so I can pluck our beginnings from the roots. Every strand holds a story, you swear lust a madman's muse; but love can weld your thoughts and nerves apart and leave you falling from the bridge you once lulled your ribcage across. I can't plug this ache with torn pieces of your tongue, every-moon I resurrect your flesh in my room and watch as the ashes leap from the roof.   ​
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Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 11:58 AM UTC
Séance
I woke and sat, pupils compressed against the window like black olives; watching where the sun used to rise. It's cadence reduced to a vacuum, skin sunk like eyes in the socket of the universe bearing all but a sign: “even the brightest of stars need a retreat to grieve”. I swear you could have knitted the end of the world from the venom in those clouds. So I let these nerves nest in a bed of sorrow; as the dawn poured me back to sleep, indefinitely.
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Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 7:38 AM UTC
Rain
Lately, death is everywhere. It sits on the rim and recites the contrition of unburied mad. Nectar dusted glasses. These shards raised you. Contoured as cells that neat flesh together. How far we stretch when flavours dull and loose thoughts the last we push around our tongue. Demons that swirl, unfolded for the world in aching concession - how sorrow leans heavy on the bones. Meat and sacrilege, these apparitions scream in a plume of citrus; saliva like flint drawing moths to the table. They gauge, every ground memory; the feeding vessels of freshly kneaded delirium. I'll never shake that screech. Piercing as brass embracing brass, the sound of death still tepid with the scent of rotting fruit. We circle, a grey scar between wheels and the unresponsive telephone. I clawed clean every last piece of static, served on platters once wholesome now plunged with the ailing sunset - our last supper.
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Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 4:25 PM UTC
-- The Last Supper --
Peppermint gum, I handed one - half discarded; how far we stretch when flavours dull and loose thoughts the last we push around our tongue. Lately death is everywhere, it sits on the rim and recites the contrition of unburied mad. Demons that swirl, unfolded for the world in aching concession - how sorrow leans heavy on the bones. It isn't the expiry of flesh, he keeps tab between lines, a scratched grey tally under the lamp by the bed. Death is the loss of love, of all things hope you once carnivorously indulged with unfettered joy. A sanctuary for the crazed and unkept who swear by the scent of rust that peel off old Church-bells in November. That bronze hue of a land less roamed, dialect closer to home. Death was in the bay, it oared the shores this morning so I braced dawn a different person without you.
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Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 7:31 AM UTC
Love Is A Death Note
"Somewhere", spoke the grey lips in the wall. Somewhere before sunrise, before the first bird crows to dawn and the apathetic are yet to uncurl the grit that gathers like dust between the fold of shallow eyes. "Somewhere". A derogatory term. Their humanity bears no resemblance to us as skin and bone the only price to pay for "unpeople". Cities made of paper, soaked in a drought. Somewhere East. Or maybe South? Somewhere far from the guilt that laden our stomach with lead. So alien to home, allotted just enough frames for you to feel how fortuitous; but not enough so the screams swallow your evening meal and you swat the sound of flies pouring through the static of your transient box.
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Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 7:27 AM UTC
"Somewhere"...
Many moon-less nights festering, tucked with the glass and cloth drawn shut. In confinement a vacuum against the all-consuming hollow of modern. Oh how we scramble, "too busy" to catch me a glimpse so we'll leave it to chance on the Underground circuit. Carts of death, on which we're wheeled like lambs to the end of the line. If our spine uncurls and blessings conveyed fall to bitter silence, let these words embellish our story. For fury may burn holes in the gut, but crumpled parchment and black X'ed out pictures at the eyes long transcend the ideologue. That white speckled hue, the hum of neon boards worn but audible. Somewhere between the dim of Old Street and Whitechaple, the sound of lonely echoed in departed steps. I plead forgiveness, if not claw at the thread that knots a stomach tight and loop it like a noose instead. There are no combinations, no literacy codes to re-write history when actions speak in a universal slur. I'll do it over, scratching memories from the surface of old Polaroid photos, finger balanced like the needle on a buckled vinyl poised to screech one last note. So come now, let us meet on shores our lips spoke the promises of; let us not shallow graves where not a single petal bloom in our name, our egos are too big to return to the dirt.
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Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 2:31 PM UTC
Polaroid
"Somewhere", spoke the grey lips in the wall. Somewhere before sunrise, before the first bird crows to dawn and the apathetic are yet to uncurl the grit that gathers like dust between the folds of shallow eyes. "Somewhere". A derogatory term. Their humanity bears no resemblance to us as skin and bone the only price to pay for "unpeople". Cities made of paper, soaked in a drought. Somewhere East. Or maybe South? Somewhere far off relevant, so alien to home, allotted just enough frames for you to feel how fortuitous; but not enough so the screams swallow your evening meal and you swat the sound of flies pouring through the static of your transient box.
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Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 5:51 AM UTC
"Somewhere"...
Her words hung to frost in the Moon-White air. There I fell, steel-cold in their presence. The allure of longing a familiar solace only February bring. ​ An empty tongue, bent to hiss all the shapes of unripened promise that burden green on a winter tree; behind torch eyes that bleed memories down to the wick. ​ I could lend ear never tire of our solitude. ​ I yearn for that colourless sun, where streets not blushed pink from summers lick but wind cuts brick grey and windowpanes orange with laughter. ​ For in such black months we birth anew, flowers breathe colour to dead roots and the busy people calm to a welcoming halt. ​
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Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 6:26 AM UTC
~ Colours of February ~
War by means - not where nations play chess flex dispensable might. Not where metal sears flesh in man-sized graves. Or in hollow trenches where the political class bear not a crumpled tie, unscathed from the scourge of skirmish. War by means - not where children sombre, set free kites, for frayed cotton; carried in acrid wind the only freedom they'll know. Or midst crumpled towns, where mothers weep bleeds the river dry; cautious sorrow shake not the dirt for landmines prey. War by means - one whose cause cannot be sourced, for its fire that consumes slow, internal, across fields where strewn roses breathe their last. Left to wilt, under blackened heat; for this unyielding ache, unreciprocated. My love for you, a great conflict - a war by other means.
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Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 11:12 AM UTC
~ War By Other Means ~
I concede. This iridescent mask has sheered. Melancholic holes breed a home, a numb unwelcome coax cracks in a frame so familiar. The comfort in self, picked from marrow; left all but a carcass in the shadow of chipped smiles hung from walls torn with cadence. A weathered translucence, where light fails to flood rich in the poverty of hope. A hope that tomorrow brings the chance of remedy, birthed from a purging kindle to char the taste of sorrow brown - until I'm softened to sand and reshaped in former image.
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Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 1:41 PM UTC
- G L A S S -