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Moon Ariella Dec 2014
Listening to your heartbeat like it's a story that'll never be told again

listening to your heartbeat like it's the first edition vinyl
of my favourite song
and the only copy ever made

listening to your heartbeat
like the universe is sending me a message
through the whistles of the wind

listening to your heartbeat like science is trying to contact me
via the thuds of your *****
and justify the inexplicable
of how two astronomically unidentifiable catastrophes
clashed and become one planet
in a galaxy surrrounded by false stars
that actually turned out to be passing planes
Moon Ariella Dec 2014
You say you need me
but don't you know why my star sign is named after a disease?

I am an illness
that will take residence inside your veins
and flow through your bloodstream
until I pour out of you
in every single way

I will take power over your bones
and make you ache
until you cannot move
in the slightest angle
without seething my name in pain

I don't know anyone who needs that
Moon Ariella Dec 2014
There's something magical about the night time
and the way in which the roads clear
in the same way that your mind does

you'd think that would make things easier;
that the complete eery silence would bring peace of mind
with no one else awake to witness the movement
- or seemingly lack of -
on the earth
making you feel special, significant; as though this planet was designed and created especially with you in mind
and you are the only habitant

as though you share a secret with the universe,
an inside joke with the moon
and a bond with the stars

but that's what makes your harrowing thoughts all that much louder

there's no busy bustle of shoppers in a rush to waste their money
on materialistic items
that will decompose  upon the arrival of their death
as quickly as their corpses will
or employees hurrying in order to attend a 9-5 shift that they despise
in order to attain the funds to purchase said items

no businesses or traders
just the constellations in the sky and shrubbery rooted deeply
growing within the cracks of the paving
as though it's natures way of communicating via the universe
gloating, "ha! man can't take everything from me!"
Moon Ariella Dec 2014
Everyone is talking of the storm that is taking our tiny little town
by exactly that
but no one cares to acknowledge the tsunami ambushed within me: dormant and inert
lurking among the seemingly gentle and calming flow
of my bloodstream
that unknowingly kicks up a violent tide of waves amid me
making my DNA an angry arrangement of both too much
and yet not enough

everyone speaks of the flooding rain and the way in which
it is crashing down on their worlds
and smashing aggressively against their windows
preventing them from any means of peace
and ruining the gardens that they so carefully constructed
but no one dares to speak of the downpour imbedded
in the depth and sole of MY roots
and whats planted within the deepest crevices of MY potted bones

and aren't they informed that if they really desire a lack of sleep, restlesss nights and tired, dark eyes
that they can seek that same effect within me?

everyone is speaking in choral unison of fear about the lightening
that is striking and leaving permanent scarification
to forever mark it's territory;
unceasingly imprinting the torment it has made
but aren't they aware that I have battle wounds and stitches
burrowed away in the pit of my entity
and a hospital bill addressed to your name
and I didn't need assistance from the weather for those
but it's fun to watch the flashes light up the sky like God is up there
laughing and taking photographical evidence of the chaos
that  he's concocted

and everyone speaks of the thunder like they're so ******* god-****
proud that it forcefully voices and shoves it's far too ******* loud opinions down everybody's ******* throats
yet they remain oblivious to the passion that sleeps inside of me,
louder than I can attain a scream
yet it remains silent, abeyant

inside of me roars a sentiment far beyond the knowledge of anything
that will ever even scratch the surface
of the petty grasp of their awareness
Moon Ariella Dec 2014
You do not know love
until you are painfully familiar
with the constant ache that takes ownership of your soul
far too often when you are without him by your side

you do not know love until your mind is sewn
with thoughts of him
scattered in every creek
until there is not an empty or peaceful corner to back away into
without bumping into a plantation within the garden
that he has grown inside of you

you do not know love until his hands explore your skin as though
it is a map of the world that you plan to venture through together
and even the green and blue running through your wrists are now a subtle representation of the globe that you shall journey through together

and he brings to you
the warmth
that will hit you both
when you step off the plane in an unfamiliar land

the hurried bustle through a crammed airport
as you rush for your flight
with laughter in your eyes whilst your luggage flies
in the same way that you feel you are when you're with him

you do not know love until his lips are medicinal
and each kiss possesses the power to heal
and you were so broken to begin with

you do not know love until when you are in is presence
you feel the platonic plates of the earth halt beneath your feet
and you daren't breathe
in fear of losing a second of the moment that you know will already fleet by far too soon

you do not know love until his laughter is music to your ears
and amongst a shop of worthless CDs
consisting of auto-tuned pop garage of false teen romance
he is your one favourite record
with lyrics so beautiful that you wish to replay them again and again
and if he was infact,
made of vinyl
you would hesitate to remove his dust cover
in fear of ruining the art that he is

you do not know love until he opens his mouth
and a fountain of words pour out
and you are hanging on to each and every one
until you are almost drowning in a sea of his ramblings
and you do not wish for a life jacket
but instead,
you wish for nothing more than to let a sea of his rants
wash you up and leave you on the shore
decomposed and gasping for breath

you do not know love until his touch becomes a portal
into another planet in which it is only you two that exist

you do not know love until you lay to the soundtrack of his heartbeat
and you discover the reason as to why you were homesick for all those years;
because home is in his arms

you do not know love until you are hooked on him like a drug
and there is not a sober vein left in your body
Moon Ariella Dec 2014
But you are a galaxy
I am merely the moon
orbiting your existence
in an attempt to brighten your surroundings
and nervously contribute to the art that you are

if you are rain
I am a cloud
made up of tiny parts of you

my existence obtaining no other purpose
other than consisting solely of you
growing inside of me
to display you to the world as you proudly pour out of me

if you are a book
I am the blurb
a review
a quote of redcommendation
boasting your brilliance
gleaming with pride
whilst simply being overlooked with no credit

but

if I were a galaxy
you would be the higher power that created me

and if I were a cloud
you would be the sun
as you become present
I would merely disappear behind your greatness
making my grey hue succumb into melting into your light
until I am no longer what I was to begin with

and if I were a book
you would be the author
personally scribing sentences into the pages of my mind
hand carving each word carelessly
without any idea just how important the story that will be created,
as a result of your actions, will be

and you continue to scratch away
not caring about wearing down the fabric of who I am
because I am only pine
and you are mahogany
Moon Ariella Dec 2014
If you are wondering whether to go on adventures
with the beautiful strange boy
with the light eyes
that allow you to see into his soul
don't

because he will leave  your heart
in a galaxy far away out of reach
and he will make tiny stars burst out of you
with each flutter of an eyelash
and he will make your pupils dilate
and your knees weak
and you will not be able to remove the taste of his kisses from your lips
and you will not be able to find a fragrance strong enough
to disguise his own that he left on you
so with every movement
you will be reminded of him
and you will hurt

and if you are wondering whether or not
to swap
5 confessions at
4am about
3 words between the
2 of you
and how you want to be the only
1 that matters to him

don't

because he will plant roses
in even the darkest corners of you
and rip them to pieces
when he realises he prefers tulips

- A.A. ©

— The End —