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 Dec 2014 BianchiBlue
memineI
the clear creek flows
through limbs green
forests **** me in
I climb upon the highest peaks to release
an echo
no one ever hears.

I fly to misty clouds
scream over dales
hear no voice returned
just a deep pass
echoes.

time upon time a tick
trespasses my ****** soils,
falling into emptiness,
count my days as lost as
never surrounds my shoulders
with hugs
or warm sweet lips.
Little moist drops of heaven
       Trickling down my throat
    The heavenly burn,
                   delicious
Synonymous with an Angel's wings
               fluttering in my esophagus
     Liquid lightning, striking
          Almost blasphemous
 A devilish game of Russian Roulette
              With four shot glasses,
   Three rogues and one gent
Emotions getting looser
    Clothing getting tighter
           The taste becoming
     Sweeter
          Liquefied demon tears
Playing a wicked game
            with my insides
    Putting a beautiful curse on my mind
             Melted Whiskey Raindrops
     Sending shivers down my spine
           This hellish war of love, hate and
                    Intoxication
   Has never felt so
                  *Divine
I'm discovering
that sacrifice
will always be
a necessary
part-of
life,
  and that
  the only time
  we ever
  gain-
  is when we
  have
  lost.
(                                                                ­                
                                                ­            )
(                                                  ­      
                               )
(                              
)
\/
/\
/    \
               +

Sea



the mists part
I see your face

And I come home

••

We go to the wars together

( where have I been ? )

.:::.

yes it's true

Ofttimes we grow weak

••

Ofttimes we hide till loneliness

Tells the story

And we heed




Sea

//

Delusion fades
You re-appear

Side by side

We go together to the wars
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Remembering
The
      Beginning
              Is
      Necessary
         To
             Heal
       From
                  The
       Ending
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Number 6 in my truth series. Click #mytruths to read them all.
Comments always appreciated.
Thank you. ❤
Just when she thought

 she had dug  

herself out of despair,

she stared down

at the freshly prepared grave

and noticed the soiled shovel 

in her hand.
 Nov 2014 BianchiBlue
rachel
Blades of grass sparkle
in the reflection of the moonlight
as little crystalized
water d r o p l e t s
cling to them in spite of the biting wind

Yet not a flurry falls
but the air teases
a familiar s n o w y smell

December weather,
in early November
This is what w i n t e r feels like
at midnight
 Nov 2014 BianchiBlue
rachel
Why did the birds
fly south without me

I would have come along,
I seek a greater warmth
as well

I'm sick of being cold,
I'm sick of being bitter
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