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 Oct 2015
Frostley
As I make my way into her room
The machine sounding showing her vital signs
I get to see her one last time
The tears run down my face knowing her doom
She reached stage four of this ****** up world
Little time left between
Grace and peace took her place
She lay limp and gone
And all I can hear is the screaming of death
 Oct 2015
S Smoothie
all this time, you were just a phantom I assigned

to your face...

to your hard shape and soft eyes.

a phantasm

a love imprinted on your soma by my soul

so desperately wanting to see yours.

and here I am, calling you to me again

with no right after a thousand revelations

and every suffered revocation

youd think I'd learn why you disappeared?

but you will never be gone from me

I can sense these things.

my eidolon's soul fits you perfectly

Youre my perfect idea of beauty

all your crookedness and pain

every hunger in your eyes

every burn in your touch

the redemption you belive you will find in my destruction

to hell with the truth.

Im in love with your lovely brand of pain

the phantom of your ***

the soul of your love lies too well with you for me

I am convinced.

My vision of who I insist you are is all I need.

a breath on the wind and that look in your eyes,

still; all this time, a phantom i assigned.

a blueprint so well laid, in my heart and soul

I still believe you should be mine.
soma1
ˈsəʊmə/noun
noun: soma; plural noun: somas
1.Biology
the parts of an organism other than the reproductive cells.
2.the body as distinct from the soul, mind, or psyche
Origin late 19th cent.: from Greek sōma ‘body’.

eidolon
ʌɪˈdəʊlɒn/noun
literary
noun: eidolon; plural noun: eidola; plural noun: eidolons
1.an idealized person or thing.
2.a spectre or phantom.
 Oct 2015
S Smoothie
Soft floating embers rise
from the fires of long remembered desires
Slowly twisting and twirling  like a sensual  dance
My thoughts reach out to capture the moments
before the cradled embers die
and fade one last time.
 Oct 2015
S Smoothie
Dear Universe,

Bless the poet's and their pearls of pain,
Steel them, so they may return to write again.
Bless thier jewel encrusted crowns of thought.
that every delicate word of verse is caught.
Let them pour out their soulful words
to transfuse our bleeding hearts.
Scrolling pages to guide us
through our darkest dark.
Lighting our highest joys
and deepest passions,
May we always preserve
these sacred bastions
May the poets never truly heal or break,
nor stop thier cries;
lest their flowing rivers of verse run dry.
That we may ever bathe ourselves
in rivers of consolation and joy
sending empathy through thoughts
of comfort and care,
to knit us closer in understanding
through words
in universal prayer.
May you all ways have the will to write!
 Oct 2015
Rachel Mena
A simple crash is all it took
To encourage a nervous and curious look
Into the bathroom where my mother lay
A blood bath around her, in the middle of the day.

Oh honey, please just look away
You should not see this, please do not stay.


Self-help never works, I could finally see
As she covered her tracks, her eyes never leaving me;
But the evidenced razor lied on the floor
And the pile of pills poured out by the door.

Oh baby, please do not let your father know, too
He wouldn’t understand, the way that you do.


And all of my words held deep inside
Hung on my tongue, my lips were dry.
All of the times you spoke only through words
Left me so confused, viewing life backwards.

You are beautiful, and just so pretty
it is the inside that counts, don’t be so petty.


Oh but momma, can’t you see
How do you expect me to love me?
When you have so much hatred towards yourself?
Enough to clear off the medicine shelf,
Enough to starve, binge, and purge;
You always told me to have some courage.
Enough to cut into yourself: thin and long lines;
You always told me, we would be fine.

But how could this painful sight be so?
Please bow now, mommy, an award for your show.
Disclaimer: This is not a direct representation of my life, by any means. This is fictional and something that came to me randomly.
 Oct 2015
S Smoothie
...------...
Don't write me ******* poetry

The love that helps a knight traverse a mountain
Yeah,
well you don't have the words for that
the passion that curls toes
just doesn't sound the same when you describe it
'nice'
is not a romantic word
niether is
'I wanna *******'
but the way you
do it;
yeah...
 Oct 2015
S Smoothie
It seems
you've managed to gouge out
another chunk of my heart
...
took your time
to make me feel it,
every bit of it
...
Wormed those fingers of pain
right in
...
down to nauciously scraped
nerves
...
dug in so deep
must've been so ******
to find it was hollow?
...
Oh sweety,
with your forhead
planted in your palms
You look so lost?
Didn't think of the cost?
did you?
...
Oh,
how well
in our misery we soak
one day king of hearts;
next day broke!
...
you didn't think
id let it go
so easily did you?
...
I have a habit
of scaping the mess
under my nails
...
love is such a
gruesomely pretty colour
...
Cheer up!
...
I feel so much better!
...
now that I've taken
a good chunk
of yours.
 Oct 2015
S Smoothie
What use is love if it can't find its constant
I'm tired of falling from the cliffs I climb
My identity eludes me trying on all the sizes to see where I fit
Can't go by feel, can't trust it
Can't go by logic it doesn't apply
Can't go by intuition
It just keeps leading me to you
And the space between us
cluttered by every Immovable barrier thought of to destroy love
no leap of faith could ever hope to overcome.
But love hasn't died yet
And I keep taking the fall.

— The End —