Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
They are marching
Stomping their feet to the beat
Of a mechanical heart
Trudging a bloodless road
Away from the trenches
The silent attacks on repeat
Ripping and tearing apart
A system on massive overload

They are marching
They're making a quiet retreat
To fall back and make a new start
On the other side of the road
 Mar 2013 Destiny Diadem
bambi
Your nails were
soft pink crescents

they chafed
along my cheek.

You plucked
the silken petals

watched them wither
at your feet.

I fed you dandelions,

Picked stems
from your teeth

with my tongue.

But in the creases

of your mouth,


I saw the weeds of doubt.
Inspired by Shane Jones' "Lightboxes."
Lips make hushed smacking,
Fabric rubbing noises
The disgraced moan of springs,
The fever of contact
Arms set to embrace
Whispers promising we'll escape this place.
I love us.
With what we are
Despite what we should be.
There are proximities beyond
*But for now they're only here.
She wept bitterly
over her creative gifts;
transient, even this.
After those moments of disillusionment, she should have certainly embraced truth and smiled!
 Mar 2013 Destiny Diadem
Holly W
I breathe people in like the necessity of air
and even though I know I need to exhale
I wish I could hold it in for a second more
and forget
between the marrow
of your bones,

in the depth of
your shoulder blades,

beneath the ligaments
of your heavy hands,

maybe even underneath
the corneas of your seas,

you have to be in there somewhere.

the you that i used to know.
Next page