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 Oct 2013 Danielle K
Emma
fix me
 Oct 2013 Danielle K
Emma
you write of love
and
i write of sadness

two worlds i hope can collide

*i want your love to bury this sadness
"Don't leave any marks," she says
as I nip playfully at her neck;
"It's unprofessional," she mutters
while squirming from the waltz of my lips,
and at the dance of my fingertips;
everything was electric
and it was great,
truly breathtaking-
at the time-
but that time-
has passed;
sacrificed;
killed.

If only One
so edified, dark, and **** in Her ways
would grace me with Her Time and Temple;
whilst true to Herself
upon Her unfolding Path,
that I may also be true to my Self
upon my unfolding Path.

Truly, that would be
a Dream come true
and the Moon would stop
and stand still for us.

Though,
think not that I seek merely a toy,
that I want someone for mere fun;
this is not a question of mere Lust:

I want Love.
I want to feel Love.
Truest of Love;
Metaphysically,
as well as
physically;

I
want
someone
who would make it seem
as if the Moon stands still for us;

Alas, though a gleam,
it doth indeed seem
to be merely a Dream
within illusioned Dream
--------------_--
Subtlety is key,
when you have something to hide.
I've nothing to hide.
As I lay on my bed
My favorite pen in my hand
Trying to convince myself
To write something creative
But my brain can't function
And just think on command

I blink, and blink, and blink
Staring at the paper blankly
Feeling like I've been hoodwinked
By a silhouette in a hood
All you see is two blaring eyes
As one half of them winks

Mind racing in slow motion
Thinking you can think something
But the ink isn't working
Brainwaves are failing to flow
To the tips of your fingers
Sparking the touch of talent

Trying to tap the wires
That trigger inner feelings
And fuel the fire to write
Stick a knife in a socket
You still wouldn't get the shock
To ignite your light to write

All you want to do is write
Begging and pleading your pen
To scribble with all it's might
You want to feel productive
And conceive a worthy product
Yet you can't seem to produce

It's the worst feeling ever
Because you just want to write.
I know you fellow writers all feel like this every once in a while. Or a lot. Just thought I'd put it in to a poem.
Your tongue licks the sweat off me
-- tasting what you wrongfully claimed as
yours.
No mercy - you take no prisoners,
only lost souls.

You're a vulture, a crow
And god, don't you know?
the pain you cause me
when you lick the blood
off my bones?

Your claws dig into my marrow
   - are you finished yet?
My decaying brain is left with
holes of regret.
Send me to purgatory
- I'm finished with this mess.

A naive deer is still full of grace
You may have mauled my soul,
but there's still a bit you have yet to taste.
I'll run circles around your head,
throwing fairy dust into your soul.

This silent deer is screaming for mercy,
but you haven't yet swallowed her whole.

                                     *-lf-
© Leelan Farhan
    August 25 2013
 Aug 2013 Danielle K
Celeste
To Mom
 Aug 2013 Danielle K
Celeste
I know you
were sick
And I know you
loved me
I know you
tried your best in the way you felt was right
To make me happy
I know you
Were scared that I'd forget you
I know that you knew you didn't have much time
Selfishly, I wonder why
You didn't leave me anything to remember you by
Don't worry, I have memories of you
But none of them tell me much
About what you were like
I really just want a piece of you
That I can hold in my hands
And unfold and read
Then fold up again when I feel reassured of your presence in my life.
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