Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
1.7k · Aug 2014
Eye Candy
Melissa Eleanore Aug 2014
As candy thaws neath my tongue
My eyes take dilation.
I fall into an inception
as I walk into a place
where my tender age went...
Then,
I saw sevenths of an illusion
Acidic iridescence
Suffused in a type of dimension
I was present.
Bound to life's existence...
Each and every Earth-bound object
was formed
by masked bodies
that cradled each other.
Lifelessly connected to one another.
Expressing the same dainty love
we are mad for...
Jade orbs
were absorbed
by a topiary lord.
Beating.
Circulating.
Captivating.
Caught me devoted in all sorts of emotions.
Repetition. Repetition.
Sight distortion.
Colors stacked on colors.
I saw modulations.
But they spoke to me in motions.
I felt as if I was breathing this all before.
And that I was anticipating on something that I could not get myself to ignore.
Some moral.
That I've been awakened for...    
I was reverted back into a timeless age,
where matters were forgave
and where passions were seemliness.
and because of awareness
you become unable to love like a child
when you abandon your innocence.
So here's the message.
"Seven is perfection."
The eye to see life.
Making a connection.
Breathing Earth's affection.
There's so much more to this poem that I wish I could explain in words but unfortunately I just couldn't. The graphics in my head were too much and truly was perfect...
1.3k · Jun 2014
Ne'er-do-well
Melissa Eleanore Jun 2014
Riding in a hardtop with a few friends.

Heads get groggy as grass burns between the lips
With every pull of the roach, it repossess the swelling at the tip.

My cranium fills with this potion sensation
hip rotation.
The air becomes dense
then everything makes sense;  
I have a roof over my head, but I hardly stand under it.
No wage
No claim that I am legal until the come of age.

Society reeks of imperfection.
Because society learns from received education

Rather than stepping into the natural world.
Where we stumble on honest situations, like meeting new friends.

I walk upon the concrete streets, freely.
The only routes I know are my true friends’ homes.
But my superego tells me that I am alone.
In this world I walk solo.
And my only soul purpose is to free my spirit.
Be free of mind while taking a hit.
ⒻⓄⓁⓁⓄⓌ➷➷➷
☓IG: Asteriart
Melissa Eleanore Jun 2014
The door throbs with sweat
In the morning-tide
"Whom can come at this time?"
A friend, I bet.

I stalk the sound until I reach the ****.
I open it to see the face of a cop.
Some questions spewed out of the mans mouth,
about if I have seen this other man printed on some page.
Then showed me of this woman,
which coincidentally is the one I've been raised.

They stepped in with no approbation
Suddenly, the atmosphere grew with scads of tension.
They access themselves into my home.
And snooped about the room, with noses to the ceiling.
I got this panicky feeling.

Again with the interrogation.
The only thing that fled through my mind was irritation.
Words came at me and caused an explosion.
Never have I felt more broken...

I constructed this stockade
to stable myself from memory lane.
And to have it easily be destroyed,
made me realize of all that I've been trying to avoid.

The men left, leaving me with bricks to recollect.
It was not a friend, that I have bet...
I apologize if this may seem unfinished, if you have read my first poem, you'd understand my story.

ⒻⓄⓁⓁⓄⓌ➷➷➷
☓IG: Asteriart
826 · Jun 2014
The Melting Man
Melissa Eleanore Jun 2014
He loses grip of reality.
Loses morality.
Gets bitter taste of insanity.

No ability to bring himself back together, in time.
In his head, he hears beautiful chimes.

The clock inside his chest ticks on every step that he takes.
Right foot in front of the left...
dragging himself slowly back home.
Pondering  and viciously swears at the wind.
Making up excuses for the things that he did.
Deep down beneath the skin, he is dying from within.

Stupefied from all the grievance and regrets.
Suddenly,his eyes go backward from shock and distress

His feet begin to soften.
Legs begin shaking.
No stableness.  

Crisped nails and pruned at the fingertips. .
His hair converts to grey.
I called out for him stay.
But it was too late

The man is turning liquescent before my eyes.
He no longer can hear my cries.
Hardly recognizable by the disfigurement of his face.
I am amazed.

He gets down on both knees.
Dissolving in earth’s soil.
His heart then recoils…

I woke up and I screamed.
It was not just a dream.
Daddy has left me.
Cold heartedly.
ⒻⓄⓁⓁⓄⓌ➷➷➷
☓IG: Asteriart
674 · Jul 2014
Entity
Melissa Eleanore Jul 2014
I'm a representation of existence
My bona fide
valiant side;
is only just a corporeality...

I am an entity.

Something that survives
on all mat-er-ial-istic problems.
Trying to break the hives.

I have many needs
things I'm trying to conceive.
incarnated, in this ****** display.
Hoping that specter
comes out of the dark
and plays.

I am connected.
To specter's company.
Because we possess the same energy.
₁. Bona Fide: real

Insight: What makes us beings is not our bodies driving off of consciousness, but subconsciously what makes us our true selves is just matters of energy trapped inside our bodies. Think about, ghosts (specters) have you ever experienced seeing or feeling 'something' there. well that is pretty much us in our true forms. Once we experience death, there will be a few paths to choose from, to either reincarnate and leave your "old self," and reach enlightenment by restarting your soul existence, or go over a stage of taking a look at your current existence, and make sense of it. Those encounters we have that we cannot explain are the connections we make to a lost soul or entity (like ourselves) trying to reach out.

ⒻⓄⓁⓁⓄⓌ➷➷➷
☓IG: Asteriart
652 · Jun 2014
Dog Rose
Melissa Eleanore Jun 2014
Posing as a eager swine does not prove his masculinity.
Therefore I should not be afraid to walk the streets
featuring my butterfly physique.

Boy I will bet you,
he can sprint without a top
and the pretty little ladies turn scarlet.
But when a gal will trot
we are seen as a harlot.
We are not that different,
you and I.
Our ******* are the same.
But I apologize,
if mine are in the way.
I presume you forgot; we fed from the same thing.
But from the lack of your decency,
we become an object of insecurity
then we appear to seem weak.
 
I apologize,
if my body may be sonsie
Does not mean you can be queer towards me.
We do not holler,
or humor you as if you were nothing more than a *****.
Or think that the piece between your limbs,
is only for my bliss.

It is not just the glares, the blares, and the curiosities.
The young men of my generation are clueless
as to how to fascinate the ladies.
Hardly any words slip through my lips
When they try to shoot for the first kiss
and gab a hold at my hips,
I resist.
It is no longer love at first sight,
but many valentines.

One-night-stands...

And lonely Sams...

Everything for fun...

Everything for lust...

Until they grow up.
Realizing the importance of  a woman's streak of luck.

Now imagine a woman when she has given up finding the man of her dreams
when every single boy makes her deceived
Not knowing when it's the real thing
Making life really confusing.
Imagine a woman that has been through many heartbreaks.
Boy,
by the end of the day she will make your head ache.
So don't complain.

Men are the reasons for her many mistakes.
because he persuades.
And before she can run away
it is too late...

The sole purpose of "making love"
is to do it in privacy.
  Therefore he is a thief for only seeking
to steal her virginity.
This piece is a shout-out to the ladies that have been through heartbreak and have gotten **** from guys. For those who really weren't at fault for anything, other than being a woman. Clearly it is more of an issue today, and I cannot stand being quiet about it. It does cut off at the end because there is just so much to say in this topic, so I just wanted to write enough so my point is carried across. I hope you like it!

ⒻⓄⓁⓁⓄⓌ➷➷➷
☓IG: Asteriart
637 · Jun 2014
Mi amour...
Melissa Eleanore Jun 2014
The sweet taste we locked between our lips...has faded...
That does not mean our time was purely wasted.
Not one ounce of our time spent.
I promised you forever.
That promise will be kept.
The memoirs will always be treasured in the depths of my pulsating heart.
For love is not always a forever thing
but forever it will be circulating.
It is an energy that will live to sustain life amongst us all.
Each time we taste again,
a part of us will always carry the same lore of love, throughout our ephemeral orbit until the end.
When you learn to see the light,
after these lonely wounding nights.  
Just know mi amour... there was never anything to fight.
Currently going through a breakup, but it is not as hard as it seems to come by it when you know how to value treasured times and know how to take that experience and accept it as a whole. Love is such a confusing thing, but our lives are too short to only love once. Which is why somehow love works through the creases of hard times. But it will always be there. Waiting when you're ready.

ⒻⓄⓁⓁⓄⓌ➷➷➷
☓IG: Asteriart

— The End —