Uneasy nerves,
Crawl under flaws.
That show themselves
In a head full of fog.
Incoherent thoughts
Build up and clog
Releasing themselves,
As they turn the knobs-
The faucets.
That hold emotions,
They unlock it.
My eyes cry oceans
And I'm gone- forgotten.
I don't belong...
I'm rotten.
How could I be enough
For someone I long to touch,
When they're made out of so much
Beauty and perfection,
And all I'm made of is dejection?
My heart is scarred with rejection,
It never wears protection.

I bet his refusal tastes like heaven.

-SLuR

Amidst the darkness in the sky,
I see a yellow butterfly.
Carefully, I catch it.

Only to find,
when I opened my hands,
It was never in my grasp.

-SLuR

I am Hephaestus,
Festering,
Alone in my home
Of infidelity. Pestering,
My goddess, my queen,
With pleas, that I may reach
And touch her beauty,
That my ears may hear her sing.
Hoping I could snake my way
Around her olive tree,
With the courage of Athene.
She's the amor in the air,
Armored by her disgusted stare.
And I'm ensnared. Tangled,
In her hair. Amongst dead roses,
And broken mirrors, I repair.
Mending what was never there.
Convincing myself I'm not impaired.

I am Hephaestus,
Festering,
In this forge.
I'm scorched,
By my heart's
Endless scourge.

-SLuR

In this garden nothing grows, but death and fungus
It sprouts so persistently like memories of us
Smells just like them too... Putrid; so rotten.
I'd burn it all down if it means you'd be forgotten

But you wouldn't, by you my head is haunted.

Every seed I've sown has been reaped from your soul,
Everything I try to grow are just parts of you I know
Like the way you smile when you lie.
I can feel my flowers die. Petals cry,
Curling up like shriveled fetuses
Aborting any notion that your love for me persists.

My tears never dry, drowning orchids as I cry
Torpid, happiness lies
Just outside the confines of my mind.

I long to shatter these barriers you've created,
With sweet sounding words that tasted like hatred.
But, you've instilled a fear in me
Irrationally, I'm scared to leave.
Taught to enjoy ugliness rather than beauty.
The crispness of dry leaves instead of soft greens,
The sting your hands bring when you whisper you love me,
The flame left by my tears as you take your pleasure.

In this garden of death, vines entwine deep within myself
Rooting me to the dirt full of nutrients from hurt
All I've ever known, my only form of life support.

-SLuR

Smiles wash up on the shores of our lips,
hiding what really is concealed beneath
                                                                ­      each retreating swell.