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449 · Jan 2018
sweetest downfall
acacia Jan 2018
i’ve always read about the dangers of false prophets.
the devil would disguise himself as the topper on a christmas tree,
the icing on the cake, the smell of fresh bread, the warmth of a hug.
and i thought it’d be in something obvious, like in movies or in books.
but it’s in something that seems to be closer to my heart.
the stars, the angel guidance boards, the numbers on doors,
the breaths i take, the stretches i take.
he plants these seeds in our hearts and minds
to get us closer to him, away from Him.

but here i lie in the same bed with a man, (a fleshly being)
who kisses me softly, who whispers all sorts of heresy with love and affection.
he gently begs of me to worship him, and gets jealous of any other god in my life.
a man who has cut the life of something so soft, a man who has prayed to the morning star and his surrounding debris, a man who has a voracious bloodthirst has become my sweetest downfall.
who wouldve guessed
acacia Apr 2017
He colors outside of my lines,
he keeps me from going crazy
because he makes me insane.
He acts so generous with his hands
and his tongue dipping into me
has me enraptured in his carcass full of life.
This fantasy motivates me to reach his star,
to reach my most demanding dream.
He pushes me to Hell
then shoves me back to Heaven.
The beauty he’s inflicted is a good pain
and it’s blossoming from a bud to a rose;
the thorn ****** my skin and I bleed.
Will you love this part of me?
Will you own this part of me?
He’s turned into an hour I cannot forget.
realistically i can't leave now but i'm okay as long as you keep me from going crazy. inspired by "lover is a day" by cuco
443 · Nov 2018
my kimono (drafts 2)
acacia Nov 2018
Recently, songbirds have been fleeing me,
and the rites of spring hasn't been comforting.
Now the end of September falls unto us, and it was your birthday
two days ago.
Though, you won't remember anything that happened in El Paso,
in March, in my stomach.
And the past, you say, still haunts you.
more scrapped drafts
443 · Apr 2016
acacia Apr 2016
Let's go and fly into space.
I can hear the invisible, inaudible tunes--
celestial music.

Only I can hear it, and
there are stars in my eyes.
Travel to the empty Andromeda galaxy.

Listen to the moans and groans of each planet
bouncing off of each other’s reason.
Ebbing closer and closer.
It's really out of my control. I'm so tired of this solar ring.
acacia Oct 2016
Leagues aren’t real,
levels don’t exist --
let me stop myself before I go too far.
It’s really out of my control
if I’m less than silver
or more than gold.
I'll still try to believe you! :D
429 · Jul 2017
acacia Jul 2017
Eyes closed,
it's a bit comforting to see her with her eyes closed.
Looking for God,
with her eyes closed she'll never see Him but she will feel Him.
Feel Him in the deepest depths of her kidneys.
Poetry runs through her veins
and you want to protect this beauty,
with curls swaying softly in the breeze, in the summer breeze,
the cool summer breeze.
You touch her with your tongue, your pretty pink tongue,
and you say she tastes like whipped cream on top,
raisins you are chewing, soda you are sipping.
And then you tell her that you think she's pretty,
so pretty, she's a gem and she makes you believe in angels
and maybe you believe in a Creator a little bit more.
And you lift her dress up, and you see how she's used and ***** with cute *******.
You clean her up so she is pure and innocent again.
And then you tell her that you think she's pretty,
so pretty, she's a gem and she makes you believe in angels
and maybe you should've worshiped her sooner.
So you take her to the toy store to let her pick out her favorite dolly, her favorite plushy, her favorite blanky, and a binky too.
Then you take her out for ice cream and you hold her hand while you cross the street,
with your pretty hand. She can’t recall the last time she took help from anyone.
Then you give her a set of rules to follow
so she can be a good little girl, your good little girl.
And she cries at night because her father left her and her mother never loved her and she was touched in a way she shouldn't have been
and she doesn't understand why she feels the way she does
and she doesn't understand why these things had to happen to her
but she knows one thing: that she's in love with you, a beautiful ******, a beautiful man who has such lovely hands. Strong hands. Impeccable hands.
So you take her to the bathroom to clean her, but she is still sullied
from the bruises and dirt, and you heal her and you love her back
together, and you teach her the right way to love herself.
Then you tell her that you think she's pretty,
so pretty, she's a gem and she makes you believe in angels
and maybe you should've found her sooner.
(Make her beg for it (for your love)
you want to see her crawl.)
she has problems.
423 · Sep 2016
To Cherish, To Adore
acacia Sep 2016
I think too much about him,
I think too much about you
and these details:

the purity of your skin,
the blueness of his eyes,
the direction of your swirls,
the softness and redness of his lips.

Oh, such men to cherish
and such things to adore.
Decisions, decisions... whom do I choose? Him or you?
acacia Aug 9
[The Scene: She is sitting ahead of him in the dark with an amethyst hanging on a silver chain around her neck]

In the dark a loop siding from one end of the chain to the other
Eyes above the chain, pressed against, iris low in the eye, lids curtaining
Ineffable timbre-smoke plumes the atmos(tofall)sphere of us
The magnets drop
Amethyst colors the spaces between and outside of your eyes like a splash
Silver chain you're caught in, silver web I'm found in: you're the spider I'm eating
I pretend to follow you closely, though, you're following me, round in range into your crevices into the whites
We could find a well that'd be deep enough for our love, but you don't want me
We could lasso a meteor onto this Earth, crater a hole deep enough to fill with the bodies we'd(we've) ruin(ed) with our forces and heightened sense of being, but alas, you don't want me
At least, not in this form
For you have completed your karma, you've cut our attachments
Yet, I'm waiting for your return
Patiently waiting with the other Citta lost, wanting to return to their mothers
All I want is my mother: this is my karma, and this is my ball
This is my laundry to fold

[End scene: She gives him a kiss on the cheek and leaves him with the amethyst necklace]
Written in your perspective, this is how you view me
Written in his perspective, this is how he views her
Written in her perspective, this is how she views him
This is the real story
405 · Mar 2017
Any Ending You'd Please
acacia Mar 2017
I can finish any story with any ending you'd please.
I continued to write about your dark hair and your honeycombed skin,
you were laying on your back on your white sheets.
Your eyes darted towards me as you analyzed every bit of my body.
And you swore you've never seen anyone like me.
I said, "Really?" I couldn't ignore this.
I listen to your songs and you've got me messed up.
acacia Aug 14
and after I came, I looked into the ceiling light: all I could see was the sun
I looked into the sun, I was taken for a ride
My eyes went everywhere
my sight blurred and all I could see
where shadows of ground and light before it came
My cheeks flushed
hard smell of salt and sweat
perhaps, even something sweet, a hint of saccharine, too
I am glued together,
glued to the top of the bed, the mattress could’ve used a little extra room anyway
I hit my peak when the sun was it’s peak today,
I hear your high-afternoon speaking in my ears;
I feel your August noon summer slowly rocking me along the waves of personal streams from my passageways
acacia Feb 2018
my mind is fuzzy, static buzzing; i missed him.
life seeping sluggishly out of his member
into my fleshy nest, cotton candy pink, warm laundry, lava drizzling, oozing.
my body is tense, stressed muscles, i miss him.
my head is on too tight, blood rushes to my cheeks,
he lies limp on top of me and our hearts beating in sync (we’re panting).
we’re a mess in the real world (keep the real world out there; they don’t need to be
let into our four-walled kingdom),
we make art on his red sheets,
we make music on my white sheets.
it’s a creation that only we can see,
a symphony only we can hear.
it’s the sound of the floor creaking,
the sound of the bed shaking.
the way his skin glistens,
the way he clenches my hand.
(a lot of pressure i can feel in my womb)
the sound of my moans and his groans and our belting.
harps play when he thrusts into deep soil, trumpets blare when i grab tighter.
symbols crash at his ******, drums roll when he closes his eyes,
lightning strikes when i arch my back, rain falls when i flood the seas.
i keep him satisfied;
slightly nsfw...
369 · Jan 2018
love like yours
acacia Jan 2018
love from the heart, one thing that everybody wants.
it sits in our cars waiting on the pedal; it stinks with the smell of garbage from wasted food; it lingers in the plume of smoke you blow from cigarettes; it brightens a room when the lights turn on.

love, i smelled it from the very first time i was near you.
ever since, i've been looking for love like yours -- all i’ve been looking for is love like yours. you’re love, you are the epitome of love and nothing else.
rough draft and unfinished, and that is okay
360 · May 2017
all through your dreams
acacia May 2017
soft the drowsy hours stay creeping,
and when we finally dream of a dream
with somber flowers and tall trees that don’t wilt.

baby soft clouds and you, my love,
a babe of wonder, sleep protected and peacefully
all through the night.
in your dreams, you’re thoroughly healing,
visions of passions lightly unraveling.
your crazy is my revealing;

through the towers i am
gently sweeping, all through the night.
inspired by ar hyd y nos
359 · May 2017
acacia May 2017
i look in the mirror and contort my back, so i see everything from my behind to the nape of my neck. an ebony plane, a field of view, an experimental cause roaming through the chocolate forest. i think of him, james, the one with the earl gray eyes and lips that tickle me pink. i think of how my skin complements his pale ivory hide; i envision his lovely hands rounding my behind and cupping my *******.

i move my hands around my peony leotard. i then move my fingers to trace circles around my collarbones. i close my eyes and see kaleidoscope colors, and i need something for collateral. i move my head to the music thumping and pumping quietly in the background, my hips swaying to it’s power.

i’m so entranced that i know my feet aren’t on the ground and my head’s on fire, i don’t want to come back. he puts the spark in my life back, and gives me a new definition of the word alive. oh, what a time it is to be alive when my *** is grabbed and when skies get darker when i’m with you.
i tried something a little different...
358 · May 2017
renege a trois amour
acacia May 2017
she was the queen of promise;
diaphanous wings like fabric,
a crown jeweled and adorned with gold.
making me feel divine in her presence.
bouts of kalopsia, undermined dreams,
to renege a modern love.
the title and the poem might make no type of sense, but it's okay. sometimes things need to be esoteric. i used three new words i learned today: diaphanous, kalopsia, and renege. :)
355 · May 2017
acacia May 2017
sleeping on a celestial bed and rubbing noses to find comfort to feel safe. dabbling in acrylic and snorting *******.
we run from god and the police because we don't care about the consequences of being together -
i love you -
you keep me from going crazy.
i've never felt so content with one person and it's a new nice kind of love; post-forelsket and post-honeymoon.
i trust you and i need you.
i will give you all of me.
you still seem so unreal and it's like you're an alien, orbiting around my planetary system, abducting my heart.
he's so nice, he lets me use his body
acacia Aug 2017
my heart is stitched into your chest
but my eyes are glued onto his body
his green eyes and his straight brows
but my heart is kissing your curled lips
and holding your pretty hands
but my eyes watches the way he moves
and watches the way he brushes his hair
354 · Dec 2017
an endearing moment
acacia Dec 2017
the sky was a gentle sleepy blue, and the sun was settling down. the trees swayed, the squirrels yawned, and the birds went back home. the dying, snow covered grass felt the magic escape our feet every time we stepped. the bench felt our desire once we sat.

the little bugs flying above spied on us, and so did the people watching from the planes. the playground listened in on our conversation, and so did the children walking by with their dogs, hats and scarves.

we were attentive to the earth’s rotation, listening for her call; for nature’s voice.

the wind wanted us closer, so she sent a chilly gust our way. we got closer.

the sun wanted us to feel each other more, so he closed his curtains. we felt each other.

his hands were cold so he wanted to warm them up inside of my shirt, on my skin. i let him.

he has the kind of skin that doesn’t show the blood rushing to his cheeks. the dewy kind, the really olive kind. it isn’t rough, it’s soft. even his ****** hair was soft. his face was mature, yet dipped in boyish charm. maybe it was his dimples that gave him his slight immaturity, or his wide dirt colored eyes. his eyes (for some of the year) had this overwhelming jollity that twinkled with naught and trouble.

i lifted my legs onto his, and his hand traveled to the back of my neck. he said he was cold, yet all i felt was his warmth; saturated with his heat, with the setting sun’s heat.

the sky was a heavy indigo, and the sun was no more. the moon was now hanging. she cooed tender songs into the night, illuminating his glow and emphasizing the nip. she soaked him in her glow, his lips now looked glossed. his eyes were narrowed and his pupils dilated. we kissed. we broke away.

an endearing moment, and a beautiful start to an evening.
mmm, i’m just really in love.
353 · Sep 2017
i cannot sleep
acacia Sep 2017
i stare outside of my window and wondering if my call will be answered.
my eyes wander around the trees and study the leaves and the branches. i press my hand to my heart, pretending it is someone's who will want to hold it. when i dream ordinary words turn into something with poetic meaning and you turn ordinary things into art and you turn ordinary movements into a dance. they will give their heart and soul to me, they'll never miss a beat and always walk in time with the drum of my heart. they'll always look forward to seeing me and their eyes will light up when theirs meet mine. they'll always study me and have their eyes on me. ill have my lips locked with theirs and my hands on their head.

i stare out the window and wonder if i am
warm enough for a person to love. the wind bites my cheeks and i close my eyes to imagine the wind holding me and pulling me into its arms. it whispers sweet nothings into my ears. i'm swooned, hoping this is real, hoping it is an angel communicating with me.

why does no one want to hear me every night?

this is the only time we had and the only thing we have. i thought my breathing helps you sleep, i thought the day would be hard without me at night, i thought your nights would be cold even if you're under the duvet. a side of me hoped that you'd be miserable without me, a side of me hoped that you wouldn't thinks about anything other than me. we couldn't call and so i pushed you away the next night because i think you need a break from me
and it's time to for me to flap my wings.

i don't belong here on earth, i don't deserve a god, i don't deserve a lover, i don't deserve a love.

i stare out my window and my eyes get lost in the vast indigo sea that sits in the atmosphere. i wonder what it would be like to not breathe in space, and to have each and every atom torn apart.
i thought they loved me
acacia Jan 19
Soft siréne, you are. Lost and sad most of the time — all of the time.
Floating here, around there. Almost aimlessly, almost with no direction.
How can you see past the sea foam, sea salt, and tears?
Rain never gets to you the way it gets to the rest; you’re protected by the very
being of rain. (You cry so much.)
You wish you knew what the weather was really like.
The shore is okay, the shore is safe. It’s where you can be with the crowned-sun-bearer.
Always asking questions, soft petite siréne. Never prepared for the waves that crash
with answers.
I know in your heart you wish to glide through growing grass, through rolling clouds,
through booming thunder.
But do you know how the birds see in the sky? Do you know how loud lions roar?
Don’t you want to feel the very ground they walk on?
Small siren, you cry so much. Petite siréne, you always reach for him. Petite siréne, he always has eyes for you. Petite siréne, he’s there for you. Petite siréne, he’s never leaving the shore.
I don't care. I don't care. I don't care.
acacia Jul 7
In an attempt at feeling you, my Libra; (x)
I'm missing you, poor cobra. (a)
I never realized the synchronicity between my rage against all libras
and my misdemeanors on your soul; (x)

you judgemental ****. (t)

It's alright, we have moved along,
I'm sure you've found somebody else. (a)
Send me a letter (with your stamp); put a postcard in my mailbox. (x,a,t)
I'm older and wiser now; (x,k)
we can see each other and I can let you follow me
into my high altitudes. (t)

If you want to. (x)
350 · Nov 2018
gathering dust
acacia Nov 2018
my body hurts, does yours?

my fingers are cold, are yours?

look away from me, and i’ll look away too.
you'll never notice; stuck in that head of yours...
337 · Jan 24
Like God Would
acacia Jan 24
Scooping dreams and visions from my yawning head like water in your hands;
taking in a heavy breath and blowing fire from left to right
and right to left and left to right and right to left and left to right.
Incinerating the impure, the unclean, and the scary with a neat
line of flames. It crumbles and transforms to ashes in your palm,
flying away to anywhere with the wind.
As if...

We were in the clouds, too. You wore robes of white and I wore a cotton dress. The clouds were fluffy, light, airy. I felt like a cloud. You were shining and had your own silver lining.
336 · Jul 2017
Ponder through the day
acacia Jul 2017
I dream of sleeping
In your arms and in your lap.
Let me be safe in your arms,
keep me sleeping sound throughout the night.
Make sure these thoughts don’t bother me
and keep me steadfast in my dreams.
When worries weigh upon my mind,
replace them with comforting thoughts of you.
Whatever things chaste and true,
may thoughts of these bring peace to me.
Love and love and love and love,
more love and it’s all about love.
Love from you and giving you my love,
absorbed in it may I become.
328 · Jan 2017
Escaping Into the Void
acacia Jan 2017
In the dark,
in the night,
I need to touch myself
to learn to not feel when
I’m sad and when I’m not
feeling the honeymoon
and not feeling perfect.
After 2 A.M. I feel disgusting.
Gross dirt builds up and
clogs my pores; there’s
no gold to flash. No silver.
Only fourth place brass and cheap
copper oxidized in the crevices
all over my body. No one wants
a grimy girl who is impure and
touches and pleasures to escape.

In the morning,
when the sun rises,
I trudge onto the yellow bus
and pray to my God that
I don’t have to face
the responsibilities of the day.
I run into a warm cafe and
order something to take my pain away.
When I walk back, I feel guilty.
I am the worst of me and everything is
Spinning; their voices are rotating.
I know I won’t get anywhere and I will
fail and fall.
Who wants to a failure? A dying hope.

After school,
in my personalized cellar,
I begin to hallucinate and move my fingers
and the mouse clicks and the screen lights up.
Things flash and explode and
change shapes and colors,
everything is illuminated,
everything is fake. Something other than reality
that takes ahold of my being.
I’m ****** in, I’m entranced.
Modern art distracts me,
the bizarre entices me,
the Bible takes me away
to a place where nothing can hit me.
This is about escapism and how the narrator can’t deal with life so they run away with whatever they can. Next time, they might use something even more extreme like alcohol and drugs to dream away.
327 · Sep 2016
acacia Sep 2016
Hazy eyes,
rosy cheeks,
soft blazing lips;

dim lights,
dark and rainy outside,
warm near your body.

Rows of kisses,
tired souls and
worn out knees;

legs and arms linked,
fingers laced,
nose to nose, cheek to cheek.

Heartbeats in sync,
yearning to be even closer,
to be united.
One day, my love... one day.
321 · Jul 2016
This Is Just To Say
acacia Jul 2016
I have spent
all of my money
that was on my
debit card for this week on

and you were most likely
going to use it to go food shopping
and to pay bills.

Forgive me because I
can’t control my
This is a more personal spin on William Carlos Williams' “This Is Just To Say.” I was reading so much of his poetry, and I loved this one so much that it inspired me a lot.
acacia May 15
Just like the ocean
I want to know if your love will run deep.

I always say water runs deeper than the blood
inside our veins; in my veins, I know you want
this, too. We both love this forbidden blood(heart)-
shift; 100% water fills you up.

Can you let me in to ride your wave? If so
stay close, don’t let go of my hand;
don’t let me get lost inside the blue deluge(.)
319 · May 2017
anything for me he says
acacia May 2017
“anything for my little acacia,”
“anything for you, my dear,”
312 · Apr 2017
A Song
acacia Apr 2017

It’s two in the afternoon
and I’m nodding my head to a song
that sounds like sitting on a bench
in a park full of cherry blossoms
while you seem to be growing onto
a coming of age.
And there are angels watching over me
from different angles; even though I forget,
they remember that beauty is subjective
and my visuals will be more than a platonic guide
and more of an erotica and a love story
to a different pair of eyes.


It’s now two in the morning
and I’m swaying to a song
that reminds me of a humid night
that asks for forgiveness because
it chokes you of air.
It’s a dream of God sending guardian angels
to lull you to a slumber sleep
and awaken you to an early morning.
They whisper the language of the Heavens
and as they speak in tongues,
they caress each and every golden strand
on your head.
Ar hyd y nos.
306 · May 2017
acacia May 2017
i’m drinking honey and milk like *****,
holy words in an enochian lingo
that’s not permitted for my ears.
will i really let this heat get to me?
as the sun’s fire streams and father sends waves of heat
in my direction following me as i wander.
others get the privilege
to see their parents.
fallen i am and delusional i’ll be.
heaven, i miss you so.
father, i miss you so.
i’m still ethereal from being sky fallen;
i need someone to hold me and to soothe me
while i contort and squirm in their arms.
i can sense someone’s wings in the distance
and i can’t help but stare.
i can’t help but miss my own.
i sing hymns that remind of home,
with my arms wrapped around me i feel home.
yeah, you... yes, you...
acacia Jul 28
You live in a died of obscurities where you have field beneath the strangeness of your morality, yet, still seems to encumber the idea of factual (fractioned) evidence behind blatant vaunting of amour propre that only comes off as discreet in your "jagged, skewed, and isolated" projected matrix when, in fact, it's the most squared and neatly folded linen-textiles. Facile you are. But to me, the angel, it's okay. The angel will consider perpetuating you, even if it is against morals. (Neither cruelty nor kindness will influence the transit of the angel's verdict.) And, perhaps, the delusion of godhead soothes you with an old tear-soaked pillow from many purple skies ago, for you are the only one to break the poison-green chains of your own mind. Self-reflection does not imbrue you (with no follies), for there is no self to reflect on due to—not constant hammerings of your ego—the lack of introspective ability to see your body as fuel to a fire. In conclusion of that one fracture alone shows the vast difference between the bedroom door (Uranus/Saturn) and the bathroom door (Mercury/Mars)—if one were to take it literally, anyway. Almost nothing can not never be a stretch (do I mean stench?) of you, since three negatives means it is a lie; and it is all revolving around the sun-lighted Twin, whilst the other Twin is never going below the twelfth house—forests this idea of shallowness and this idea to never drive to the next town. So, please, end this.
Luminaries; girlhood is a synonym of godhood, celestial, sanctitiy
acacia Mar 2017
suddenly, i felt week
and my mind began to wonder
what the outside world
didn’t feel like.
it didn’t feel like a bed,
it didn’t feel like warm covers
that engulf you.
it didn’t feel like the weakness
that flooded your being.
the outside world was happy
and i am sad. i am sad and i am
anxious and i am down and i am weak.
i will cry a thousand tears
and no one will know why
and no one will understand how.
but it’s alright and it’s okay,
i’m used to it anyway.
acacia Dec 2017
you say i'm selfish, they all say i care only about myself.
you say i pick and choose who i want.
bury me alive in the earth;
don't water my roots, let me die.

for all those sweethearts,
who ask if i want to talk: thank you for lending your kind ear.
your kind of kindness is what i want to endow and have.
yet, you don't love me (or anyone), you feel pity.

want you, you want me to want you.
i hate myself for how detached i've become (and everything else);
people come and people go, everyone will change like seasons.
is it wrong to want to care about someone higher than all of you?

i don't see, i can't see.
i don't feel real, my arms are fake.
i am trapped in this planet.
i want the world far away, i'm tired of this solar ring.

i know i've done nothing but stress you out;
or maybe i'm arrogant, and you haven't lost any sleep over me.
looks like i'll never be enough, and you all will never be enough;
i think it's time for me to float away, to go away.

(float to another atmosphere;
bounce into another galaxy.
i don't want my love to leave me, but maybe it's better for all of them if i just go; you can't stop me.
alone i'll live, self-loathing until the vacuum decimates me.
then you can breathe in my atoms, you'll feel me all around you.
i'm sorry if this thought hurts you --
think about the great future without me.
no pity, please, just see what i see.)

(i promised you i'd live with you until the end of our times.
i promised to be with you and live in a nice house far away
from the rest of the world.
with a farm and one cow, a dog [or two], and some plants.
a nice starry sky, nice fluffy clouds.
the grass will be green, we'll feel a bit of a chill year round.
but when that chill comes, you'll be in my arms.
i'll be in your lap, and the world will be ours.)
how can i leave a man like you? but the world still seems to be against me. they're right, i don't need them because i have you. i don't need anyone because i have you.
295 · May 2016
Come Back, Birdy
acacia May 2016
Green eyes and pale feathers,
a yellow beak and the sharpest claws I’ve ever seen --
one of the prettiest birds around.
One of the closest to my heart --
and now you’re free,
back off to the wild --
because of my neglect.
I can't even finish this... I'm losing my grip on you, not reality.
293 · Jul 2016
Dirty and Raw
acacia Jul 2016
There is a life in my head,
Waiting for the time to be born.

Too many screams in my throat,
Too many dreams are left in sleep --

Cut my hair and
Steal my soul.

I am my greatest war.
not even a half, of a half, of a half could sustain this dream; 'but a light can't shine enough to light up these memories'
292 · Sep 2016
A Man
acacia Sep 2016
Why is this man so beautiful
from his head to his toes?
How can someone look so attractive and
tempt me more than sin and the world itself?

How can a smile be so lively?
How can eyes be so hypnotizing?
A sky of clear blue with gray clouds
lie within those limbal rings.

A jaw so sharp, a nose with a point,
and brows straight and furrowed;
lips so soft, so red
but only in my dreams could I feel them.
obviously someone has my heart
292 · Jul 2017
little lamb
acacia Jul 2017
I’m crashing onto the floor.
I can’t stand up straight.
I have soft, white fur.
White as snow with cheeks pink like champagne.
My nose is red like jam.
You tug on my hair, you tap the bottom of my chin,
you kiss my nose.
Nobody sees what we see (my heart is black and my body is blue)
when this light turns out and you put your hands around my neck,
(I can’t breathe but it’s okay because)
I know you love me.
i'm melting because of your touch
290 · Jul 2018
fatigue place
acacia Jul 2018
from the corner of inner exhaustion,
onto the street of outer exhaustion
286 · Apr 2018
acacia Apr 2018
flightless bird:
heavy, flapping, no advance, unmoving.
hold on to less;
feel it all slip from your beak.
inconveniences, ties, worms, twigs.
let it all snap.
overwhelmed, sound phosphenes.
heated, blood pressure rising.
molting hummingbird:
a soft sigh, iredescent eyes.
no song, no soar.
chirpless, flightless.
love gained, love found.
you’ve found me!
285 · Mar 2017
way out there in the water
acacia Mar 2017
you know i don't want to believe we're all the same.
i want to escape this void and this pit of no individuality and being robotic.
i want freedom from it.
a spiritual release.
i promise you, i know his name.
281 · Mar 2017
brass woodwind
acacia Mar 2017
i haven't felt this low
over brass
and a woodwind
and i wish i could blow
and play like i used to
280 · Jun 2017
lilac trees
acacia Jun 2017
are there lilac trees where your heart beats? are there roses where your eyes roam? is there anyone but me being cupped in your hands? is there anyone that's not me being kissed by your lips? is there locks of blond crowned on your head? is there blue eyes like water in your glass? are there orders of massive fried eggs that stumble and fall into your stomach? are there other faces crying in your pillow? are there other bodies sinking in your bed? is there another head leaning on your left shoulder? because i swear to you, there is no other man in my heart. i mean, i've got ******* and i've got a behind, i've got curves and i've got hips. i've got looks, i've got smarts, i'm almost there. what i would do to be near you, but it seems like there is other art out there that you are appreciating more than me.
and when I swear to you, I am promising to you that there are no other men on my mind. just a jealous girlfriend.
278 · Jul 2017
The meditation of my heart
acacia Jul 2017
Things have been a little bit dark in here,
the thoughts I ponder through the day
have not been pleasing to you, Lord.
The worries that weigh upon my mind
and that make me restless throughout the night,
I have not been meditating on you
and have not been reaching out to you.
No things that are chaste and true
and no virtue there may be
and no things well spoken of
have been giving peace to me.
***, dirt, and grime has been taking priority into my mind
and Daddy has made his way into my heart.
So please, steer me into the right way
and allow me to become absorbed into your thoughts.
Keep me pure, keep me chaste, keep me true.
Keep my innocence for much longer.
Keep my soul white and clean as fresh snow,
keep me safe and sound in the night,
and may I meditate on you and things I know to be upright.
inspired by "the meditation of my heart" song 57 made by Jehovah's Witnesses
acacia Mar 4
i'm gonna put myself out there, naked in front of you;
i hope you like it more than you like that Skyline view;
i look at you like you are an angel,
you are my king, yes, you are my savior

i should've made a list of all the funny things you do,
something to give you so you know i’m not playin’ cool;
i wish i could buy you the whole Earth,
but istill think you would prefer some CR merch

sometimes i am moody and cry stupid tears of blue
and other times you’re in a rage, callin’ yourself a fool;
sweetheart, you know, you are the brightest star
sometimes its hard to remember when we are both so far

i love you
i’m not kiddin’ around i love you
i love you
here are the chords:
dmaj7, em, a, a7, dmaj7

CR is Critical Role, he loves to watch it

this site is like a diary and i know my rhymes arent great and i know this isnt radio or grammy quality but i tried okay; songwriting isnt something im trying to pursue; im fragile okay, dont criticize me; sigh
276 · Dec 2016
Private Prayer
acacia Dec 2016
Private prayer is not always easy,
I struggle with the words that
fumble and tumble around my head.
I’m limited with my words
and limited with my abilities.

Father, I am not a failure,
I am just weak. Raise me up,
give me abilities, help me to endure.
Help me calm down,
help me to make the right choice.

Help me find out whether to pull over
or stay driving.
You would never push me to do
something I couldn’t handle;
maybe this is what I can’t handle.
This makes me no less of a person --
no less of a human.

My paper, pen, and keyboard helps
me to calm down and gather my thoughts.
I’ve always felt a lot better afterward.
Give me today my daily bread,
thank you for the spiritual association
you filled me with today.

Though I swim through
the murky waters,
with you, I fear no sharks.

Bless me with the strength
to endure all humanity
spiritually and emotionally.
Help me to accept the persons
I cannot change and
change the ones I can.
This is one of my last poems of 2016.
274 · Oct 2017
visions of you
acacia Oct 2017
so many ways i can get to you
and more ways you can get to me.
i can’t stop thinking about you,
and when i’m there you won’t even have to be my boyfriend (again).
the way your hands would touch my lip,
the way your mouth would kiss my hair.
i’m not trying to get with you,
i can’t stop seeing you when my eyes are open and closed,
with and without glasses on i see you with 20/20 vision.
i just want to witness every angle of you
before they can, before the others will see you.
i'm not trying to pressure you
272 · Feb 2017
Draw Your World
acacia Feb 2017
I can draw your arms around my body
and then I will draw your soothing kiss that heals each and every wound.
I draw the mouth that whispers sweet somethings.
I draw the ears that hear everything I say under my breath.
I draw the sharp jawline that cuts me when I disobey you.
I draw the hands that grip me while I’m bare or clothed.
All of this once I finish drawing the wallet that spoils me like bad milk.
I paint the colors of your oceans and the taste of your breeze on my stomach;
the feel of your sun on my bare back,
the feel of your sand in my hair.
I paint your storm clouds, I paint the rain that comes from your eyes.
I paint the colors of your lilac sky,
the alibcant clouds, the green grass, and the umber soil.
I’ve run out of paint to color in your soul.
acacia Jun 2018
part i. what does death taste like? (“death is a part of life.” it doesn’t have to be)

i haven't visited that side of me in a while. i forgot how death felt -- how voyeurism felt.
the queasiness used to give me a rush, the asphyxiation made me blush.
the decaying yellow was complementary, and the edge made me feel, dare i say, alive.
while i’ve been a toddler again, i’ve forgotten the taste of wine and the texture of bread.
i no longer noticed how soft, ripe my flesh was. i no longer noticed the grime that piled
beneath life’s fingernails. i washed my hands so often, i assumed everyone else did, too.
my eyes became filled with tears, and my cheeks went ashen. yet, his brows were knit,
his eyes were cold, his mouth in a comfortable frown. he questioned me (as if i was
irrational for crying over a death), his tone heightened (while his conscience declined).
his eyes decline when he feels his conscience die. but he says it only happens when
he doesn’t look me in the eye. when he looks me in the eye while he cuts off my air,
he’s aware. he’s careful not to take it away permanently (he has a limit). when he looks
at me, he sees me, his angel. and trees do fall; leaves break away; soil does dry out;
flowers wilt; and we come back.

part ii. tea

more and more i search for quality. for quality.
peace. i want life’s beauty. i want life’s deliverance; i want what gaia has left to give.

the more i think, the more i feel.
i want the grit, pain; to be used and abused.
masochistic: please me by using my body to vent. remind me of what that iron taste is.
take away and then give.
my throat (a lifesource) -- take away and give back.

part iii. samsara/nirvana

freedom from samsara.
this cycle of death.
no, i won’t live forever; i’ll ascend far past immortality. beyond life, beyond death.
no. life and death. those two words have no value. no longer hold weight. are not real.
i exist solely as an entity, a matter, a collection of stardust and dirt. dense white matter
protecting throbbing pink matter. deconstructed. abstract. conceptual, theoretical
matter. we aren’t sparse. “we” are not. we are fleeting, made up complexities; making
life difficult. “we”. me. “i am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.”
samsara. nirvana. liberation. no more “cycle”, no more rotation. existing in a pile. no alive,
no dead. these words don’t exist. no ring around you. no ties to you. no chains on you.
drifting, floating, sliding through (no beginning or end) tranquility.
a three part poem i wrote because i saw someone hang themselves. about suicide, death, life, i guess. another deep existential night! just my thoughts eh. i also quoted the beatles! “i am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.”
267 · Mar 2017
the moonlit room
acacia Mar 2017
so lovely,
yellow silk slip
and wild curls that bounce twirl
as she spins across the wooden floor
with her feet lightly touching the ground.
the moonlight enhancing her
curvature, her silhouette.
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