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this music sends electric
chills
down
my
spine
in all of the ways
i
wish
you
would

the bittersweet refrain
of your voice saying my name
is my favorite melody in the world

the lights in your eyes
illuminate my world
like the pulsing strobes ignite the dance floor

my heart beats at exactly
one hundred and forty
beats per minute
whenever you enter my field of view

the song of my life is really only
half written
without you
help me with a title please!
 Apr 2013 m0ldylungs
hkr
i can't make our relationship sound
beautiful anymore.
 Apr 2013 m0ldylungs
JM
You can get it wrong, at 1 a.m.
If you listen to the whispers
of the blue smoke.

Intentional bruises sneak in between the thunder and we build our altar on the ashes of tradition.

Now.
you are My sugar.

The drums and whistles of our dead keep rhythm as we dance alone in the cold of our
Great Nothing.

You can get it wrong at 1a.m.
If you wait for the smoke to clear.
 Apr 2013 m0ldylungs
Anne M
Stunned in the nucleus
of the microcosm we'd created,
I watched you
as you ceased to be what I knew
or wanted to know.

I waited
as you flew off the handle
of the door you were clutching
forever leaving;
always I shook
as you felt tears
I never cried
on your shoulder
and turned back
to the life you promised
you’d lead.

Promised.
I never wanted
that from you.
I never craved forever aloud
or begged for a guarantee.
I only wished for today
and tonight
and now. Not later.
So leave.

Grasp that handle.
It’s your only anchor to the here and now,
because I know you.

I know the beautiful words that fall
with certainty
won’t be surfacing tomorrow.  
I know the blood that pulses
between us
isn’t rhythmic all the time.
We’re unharmonious
in these evolved states.
But we fought ourselves down
to our most basic,
and we could've stay if we believed
in the primal integrity of yes.
But we can’t
and we don’t.

So we recant every sound we made together,
every motion that moved us
however briefly.
We implode.

We could've been a supernova,
but this,
this is a blackhole.
Slightly revised repost--let me know what you think!
You blame not
when I am not with you.
You welcome
when I come back to you.
You nourish
when I am open to you.
You flourish
when I am your conduit.

There is no mention
of the time we're separate.
There is no pressure
to be a certain way.
There is no guilt
in being distracted by life.
There is no shame
in being wrong about things,
even yourself.

You are compassionate.

Though,
When I chase, you elude-
(because you are already there in me.)
When I stay, you egg me on
(because you are pure energy.)
When I capture, you escape
(because you are ethereal)
When I accommodate, you amaze
(because you are all-creative)
When I name, you become anomalous
(because you defy labels)
When I control, you boycott
(because to control is to disrespect).
When I let go, you comply
(because by letting go, you let it stay).

You are nothing as you are everything;
the things we perceive are your reflections.
Though you are no singular thing,
that is what allows you to be everything.

You are each person,
but very few people are you.
You are infinite wisdom,
thus can no one define you.
You are a pattern, a fractal of Philosophy
that can be reflected and lived
but not that can be told or taught (other than perhaps by example);
for it is subjectively based on One's existence and mindset.
Based upon One's path:

It is simultaneously the greatest gift and curse
for One to have One's own path:


No one can dictate for anyone else their path
because no one has the path of anyone else,
nor can they know of the path of another.
It's neigh impossible for one to know one's own path;
you must always be seeking to discover it; to let it unfold.

One can and must learn to be more sensitive to One's own path;
That itself takes great mental cultivation,
which in turn takes a willingness for One to learn things about Oneself that One might not like,
not to mention Practice, Self-Discipline, and Patience.
None of which can anyone do for You
but You.
::
It is up to you and you alone how worthwhile your life ends up being;
physical reality is a holographic maximum-security prison for your Chi
but the holographic prison is merciful by the grace of it being holographic.
I loved you, yes.

Once

You soothed me cool cool water on a burn
You rocked me gently napping in your arms
     resting in a sunlit motel room.

I grew to love your company
The simple existence of a warm body in the same room
To desire your lazily listening ear
I learned to lust for shapes that did not my body fill
To moan for groan for
Forced tessellations roughly holding down my hips
     in demeaningly false passion.

I loved you once
But was quickly weighted left hand bending
     toward the dirt under the ceiling of your bed chamber
          “My love do not leave me you
          cannot leave me you will
          never leave me you will learn
          to love me hunchbacked lonely.
          My love my sweet my dear.

          My pet.                                       “

I drowned in the heat of your sweat
Filling my lungs bursting with salt
Filling my organs with your clammy salt
Curing my love bitter shriveling dried my heart
     preserved for future consumption no longer
     pumping warm blood bleeding aching no longer
     throbbing stinging longing soaked in blood
     no longer beating .buhduhn.buhduhn.buhduhn.
     living bleeding my heart no longer pouring
     sweet blood from her mouth into thirsty veins.
A cured lump of jerky fell from my breast
     onto the floor and I looked on indifferent as the dog
     took it in his mouth.

I loved you once
I sobbed childish little girl confused in your absence
Upon your return arms vines twisting clinging
     to your steady torso
Flowering my gently parting lips eager to pour forth
     my nectar into your life to sweeten
     your life
I only wanted to be sweet for you.
You unearthed me chopping roots clinging
     desperately to cool moist earth
You unearthed me peeling tendrils from your walls
     wrapping me in a ball and tenderly bringing
     me inside through the side door
You unearthed me dropping me in a too small ***
Pruning pruning roughly trimming flowers falling
     to the floor I only wanted to be sweet for you
     now daily thirsting in your window nectar
     no longer flows now daily drying my leaves
     soft plush foliage bursting green browns
     falls crisp to the table I only wanted to
     be sweet for you now daily dying browning
     petals fall from my cheeks to the table and
     I wilt as the cat takes them in her mouth.

You loved me once.

— The End —