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dark
dankness
draws
me
forward
to the
brink
of
intra-terristrial
gape
****
of the
globes'
epidermis
the
wind
huff
puffs
skirls
and
sighs
and
in
greeting
mayhap
warning
but
still
we
enter
and
descend
beyond
daylight
cimmerian
murk
swathes
us
broken
only
by
our
headlamps
feeble
in the
reaching
limitlessness
of
inner
earth
we
are so
small
in
comparision
to the
cathedral
structure
we
rest
hanging
like
a
spider
in a
church
spinning
on
gossamer
thread- web
|
|
|
|
|
|
spelunking
the
call
of the
spheres
quiet
secretive
neighborhoods
once used to cave
and
rappel
awe-inspiring
I can remember
women with dark skin and ebony hair
entangling limbs with mine
turning to one,
give me a loving smile
making me feel fine

then

I fall off a balcony with a young boy
we fall together
hand-in-hand,
hitting the ground
the boy disappearing into the land

so

I lie in pain unable to move
yelling out "Why is no one helping me?"
my face against the snow
clowns dragging me home
walking to-and-fro

yet

I walk back up the stairs
in a dark indigo house,
with a nail through the foot
creating tears
dropping for a mile like soot

all the while

A 46 year old fool
playing with kids
has an unkempt beard and crown
laughing in my face and
is loved by all the town.
Its a circus, a terribly frightening circus.
5/16/14
 May 2014 themotionless
Auroleus
There seems to me a bitter irony
In cutting dope with my
Health Insurance card
On the cover of a
Book written by
Hunter S. Thompson...
Somewhere along the way
We let ourselves
Get in the way
Forgetting the words
That I needed you to say

So silence beats
Against empty sheets
Like waves against the sand
To remind us
Of what we once had

I couldn't have loved you more
I couldn't have been what you always wanted
I gave all I had to you
I don't know what else to do
Nothing makes sense without you
But nothing is right by your side
Anymore

And you'll look back
And wonder what we were
And I'll look back
And wonder where the years went
Written on our baby's face
All of the tears
All of the pain

So silence beats
Against empty sheets
Like waves against the sand
To remind us
Of what we once had

I couldn't have loved you more
I couldn't have been what you always wanted
I gave all I had to you
I don't know what else to do
Nothing makes sense without you
But nothing is right by your side Anymore

This marks the end
We can't pretend
That love is enough
To hold us together

So silence beats
Against empty sheets
Like waves against the sand
To remind us
Of what we once had

I know we made promises
I vowed my heart to you
Forever were words we said
But even forever
Has an end
A song I wrote about my sisters divorce...
Moths vying for light
In darkness
Killing for the spotlight
They want to get to the light
Why?
Don't they know that the bulb they vie for
Will burn those puny insects to their inevitable deaths?
There is no dignity in dying
No one is a martyr here.
One moment of enlightenment
Overwhelms the need to exist
Moths don't try to exist
They need to reach their delusion of Life
The Light
And the ones who reach the light,look at the ones who don't
Opening their mouths to warn
Just as they die
Moths don't see,do they?
But they recognise light.
 May 2014 themotionless
lost girl
I hear the stories my books tell, all the different stories I hear.
Each one carries a new way of life.

Those of witchcraft and wizardry tells stories of magic, spells, and potions. Carrying the many whispers of witches and wizards, warlocks and giants.

Those of angels and demons tell of epic battles and fallen angels. The cries from the battlefield as heaven and hell clash call out to me.

Those of vampires tell of monsters that only come out at night, with cold touches and bloodlust. Of temptation and desolation.

Those of forbidden love tells stories of love lost and found again. Of happily never after's that carries broken promises. And soon the tears from the heart broken begin to match my own.

Those that tell of innocence lost, yearn to be consoled and heard. So that perhaps they're not alone and that their pain is shared. With the possibility of a silver lining.

I hear my books calling for me, I hear them loud and clear.

Each book yearning to unleash its story, welcoming me with into its world with open arms

(a.d)
Reading is a way of life for me.
soft stuff wool
unless is tapestry,
lasts a life time.

they say.

knitted, it needs
flattening, pinning
in squares.

choosing
carefully, pearl headed
fit for the task,
we pin
uncontrollably,
obsessively,
blotting out bullies
and other unecessary
items.

it is the wrong size.

some seek perfection.

sbm
No lights.
What happens when the lights go out?
It gets dark and you can't see.
It gets scarey and you become afraid.
You can't walk because you'll bump your head.
So what happen when the lights go out?
You go to sleep for its bed time!
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