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Ms Tang Apr 2014
Thick but delicate
Torn by the slightest incision
Conformed ****** precision
Once an empire of components
Now a sacred atonement
A hollow carcass
Sacrifice spawns recreation
Fashion's latest invention
Like secretions of the mare
the hazy aroma hangs heavy in the air
Ghostly warmth misty like winter's old willow tree
Like the former lover I've set free
Ms Tang Mar 2014
Memories like faded Monet’s

windswept pastels and periwinkles

permeate into one hour. The Blue Hour...

the hour lost in the world of egg yolks

Pirouetting the equator line

that divides

the latitude that lusted for the sun, the stars,

the cobalt sky.

with solace it longed to be departed from

The milk washed violet dreams

where vigor seeks

a meteoric silence that ushered

Azure rays igniting light

that cracks behind the clouds beaming

whispers of secrets

unveiling echoes of Gymnopedie No.1

As it dances in the breeze

The wind doused by the rhythm of

the pulsating waves by the indigo shore

Deafens my senses
   Deafens me
      Deafens my world.
Ms Tang Mar 2014
Intoxicated by your fragrance
Entranced by your radiance
Unique; you are blind to your own brilliance
Lovely, humble, shy
Skin that makes me cry
You are the one I still adore
Remember when you've cast me aside?
Did you know in your oblivion
You've left me poisoned to my core?
So I kept your bulbs locked away.
Tucked away in a jar
Time passes, but yet you still
haunt me when I look at you   from afar
Poison faded away, but the stain still remained
Leave me addicted to the scars
And every night I pray,
"Move along."
Love for you kept me in bars.
But my dear, you are not the one to blame
It is me who is ashamed.
for when a heart is a volcano, flowers can't bloom
so I send you silent shouts at the moon
To you, I'm your five months of fall, but did you know
you're my four seasons of Spring?
Revisited. Revived.
March is here, and I still wait for the day you bloom.
As my love for you, still looms.
Why daffodils, you may wonder? Daffodils can not be placed beside a mixed bouquet because of its toxic bulbs, it may **** off other flowers. This poem serves to illustrate the toxicity of an unrequited love. How un reciprocated feelings can pull you apart, poisons your perception of love, and ultimately leaves you alone with a feeling of isolation. But somehow, we can't stop hoping. Believing that the next time around we reclaim that love. It's a vicious cycle.

— The End —