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Malia Kay Lewis Apr 2010
he feels he is doomed
such as Frankenstein, and the like.
he is a brute force though he is not marked by depravity.
unbroken
and with veiled language.
strange and landlocked,
with breathless eagerness he pursues nature
to her hiding places
dark eyes,
******* yet softly gleaming such as the wolf.


(in that he is a changling, he tranforms me.
lets my own strangeness identify
another oddity.
a sparkling twin
from nature's womb.)

the pulsing blood inside his body
reverberates the sounds of my own darkness.
Malia Kay Lewis Apr 2010
You like to pretend there's no poetry in you
while you are
...drifting, drifting, drifting...
as it were.
Creative forces weave their way through your soft hair,
out through your voicebox,
down through your hands.
Doubt swims about
in your freshly trodden mind,
however.
But a voice I do hear
in soothing baritone swells.
Strong hands that do heal
straight from a good heart alone.
Your courage speaks louder than both, I feel,
and the poetry exists-
in the fern colored Seven Seas that are your eyes.
Glistens like a sharp needle
which pierces sharply through my own delicate skin.
Malia Kay Lewis Apr 2010
Being on your own
being intimate with oneself
in silence
and still...

...enables the monsters to emerge from their shadowy places,
to egress from their hidden agendas,
from their porcelain, painted masks...
out into the free air to indulge in one's fresh flesh...

much like monsters who hide in closets.

And you'd call Mother and swear and swear
you could see, hear, smell them in full
in that ****** dark thing
with the creaking door...

but when you implore Her to look,
she finds nothing
but a fluffy stuffed pink bunny...

But O She leaves again and there they are.

Ready and salivating to reveal their evil templates
and in all their glory watch you squirm over the knowledge.

And they watch you, tell you things about yourself-
things you've tried to ignore all this time...
Malia Kay Lewis Apr 2010
We console one another, or at least try to do so,
and feel sad that we can't,
so then the person being consoled-
consoles the one trying to console
for not being able to console.

— The End —