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Lorelei Adams Aug 2011
I'm shaking
My hands are shaking
I can't hold the pen any longer
No more time for writing 'bout it
No more time for thinking 'bout it
Every quake of my hands ticks down on the clock
And it's almost midnight.
Lorelei Adams Aug 2011
"Ah! How cheerfully we consign ourselves to perdition!"* +

Let your world be changed.
Let me bend the fabric of your DNA
Shape it into a malleable form
Of some humanoid creature

Let your fears be lulled
And coaxed into this bottle
Let me keep it out of sight
And we will be gods for a night

Let me search for serendipity
Of a siren's sexuality,
And chant and echoes of the sea,
From now until eternity


The wane and ebb will drown you
Of you only dip your feet
Immerse your soul -your body-
Listen to the cries of the deep
+*Moby-****, Ch. 1
Lorelei Adams Aug 2011
Coranalled with ruby lumanecents,
She purified her hands sanguinary,
Disdaining her heart's curt, desperate repents,
She plunged into Phlegethon pensively.

Like a mother nursing her one child,
A metal bottle played her heart's succor,
She saw the world: imperfect, defiled,
And laid herself to rest on the wood floor.

Then she prayed, "If I die before I wake,
I pray the lord my branches don't break"
Lorelei Adams Aug 2011
Twisted words form smokey shadows
Long drags of lies manipulate
The time
The words
The tears
Into shining objects of merit
Boy scout badges sewn into stretched skin with red thread
Layer upon layer
Keep stretching your skin
How tight can it go?
The elasticity about to snap back to place
To reward the nerves with a sting of crimson guilt.

Transfixed with perfection
Sew the pieces together
Replace the gore with normality

(only to snap again)

And what about the words?
They sit there
Steeping
Brewing
Petrifying
Turning into putrid yellow smoke
Preparing to be exhaled
The result of a new hit of lies.
Lorelei Adams Aug 2011
When Oedipus sees a ****** love
And holds hands in his womb
You'll find me ripe with love
Mary's little protégé
Glowing with hatred.
................................................
She comes up gasping for air
A lucid smile plastered on her pure face
Finely ground, strong as coffee, worn and burt.
A sacrilegious offering.
................................................
It's days like this
When the air is sharp and rips my lungs with glass
(sharper than his eyes once were)
That I mistake myself for a *****.
................................................
For infinity, or so, I will walk this coast
One step after another
Feet friendly with the hard ground
Back burning with arrows flung down from a suspended Hell.
................................................
Is Hell a place or state of mind?
These are scribbles, I cant seem to make them connect like I'd like.
Lorelei Adams Aug 2011
I
With the world spread around her,
Lying flat on the table,
Like a joint ready to be rolled,
She counted and recalculated the latitude of every destination,
And saw her hands
(so white, so clean)
Stretch and reach for all twelve corners of the map,
Saw them reach out and touch all ends of the earth.

Then, when she held every last morsel,
She took a match and watched the world burn.
Fruitless.



II
He laughed.
He dotted his I's with tears.
He rolled his nice and tight,
Kept it snug and safe,
Like a secret in a bottle.

He hung his head.
He sang of a world
Soft and gentle-
Where his fingers spoke for him
And told stories of joy and sadness,
And traveled like dust scattering in the air
Where happiness is round and white.

He closed his eyes
And focused
                        on the pounding
                 and the wishing
            and the pulsating

And never came back.



III
"Please, Dear, place your hands on the ground,
Don't worry, I always miss.
I'll trace you with this pin,
And you, too, can be pretty.
Just
                       Like
Me."

"Let's juggle
Let's play with fire
Let's walk where the sidewalk turns to dust

It will be great fun
And our souls will thank us"

Let's be a generation of *******.



IV
We are all sitting and waiting.
--waiting for something inexplicable waiting for a miracle waiting for the world to implode waiting for our names to be remembered waiting to be that one person--
Waiting for immortality.
But we're tired.
But we're impatient.
And cigarettes **** you only so slowly.
And we aren't as committed as he was.

Let's juggle
Let's play with fire.
Let's walk where the sidewalk turns to dust.




V
I was eaten by the dust
Falling in the stagnant air
Drifting
               With
                          The
                              ­     Wind
Scattered along the horizon like a dark and pitiful sunrise.

Ashes Ashes we all fall down.
Lorelei Adams Aug 2011
,,Water,,,(so hot)that- your- |skin| melts~~into it~~[and becomes part of the ::boiling:: surroundings] And you come out  "fresh and pink" ##cheeks rosy with //innocent// lust## {ready to ..start.. Your day} ++with a brand (n)ew face++

=mother, what has become of me?=
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