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the tangibility of fallibility
is met between the coincidence
and insatiability of adversity,
the blissfulness of satisfaction
is met between the constant refraction
and abstraction of our instability,
distancing perceptions bound by
our misinterpreted misconceptions ,
take the contradictions of our minds
and use them as receipted expectations,
blinded by darkness for illumination
idyllically thriving on the absence of starvation
but the the realism of disdained relation put us
in a position of contempt fixation,
placement of a pedestal beneath my feet
misdirected direction towards a forked defeat,
a way to pain and a way to pleasure,
the destination of each concluded at cloudy weather,
atmospheric conditions leave injunctions towards
the ****** functions to deviate and meditate
the conflicted constant of mind and heart
and diverge from its obliged obligation from the start,
a denouncement expected right from inception
brought afloat a constant instance of introspection,
intrinsic emotions distorted at a love’s devotion
sparks a metaphysical claim towards a complex notion
of companionship and intensified intimacy;
an expectant of reciprocated sympathy
but when in reality, the thought of apathy
lies not within the partner,
but within me
This is an older piece and a lot of my writing has an aspect of simplicity to it, so i felt that I could alter consistencies with using a little bit complexity! Something different never hurts.
 Sep 2015 Poeticatheist
nivek
Sometimes you have to chip and hack
granite words from granite rock.
The sounds of your chisel echoing loud
down the valleys of poetries mountains.
i should really
quit smoking you,
i’m ignorant
no more,
ashtray’s
fill faster
than my lungs,
quietly whispering
tip toes provoke
the screams of
hardwood
every night
at around 1 o’clock,
making way
to attempt quiet
openings of
neglecting doors,
sitting amidst the
tranquility as
the ******
fissure eats
the dancing smoke
while she
paints abstracts
on teeth
tongue
lungs
heart
and the
cognitive inability
to separate
index from middle
comes not from
ignorance
but from how
she holds me
tighter than anyone,
touches my lips
more compliantly  
than any woman,
she will never leave me
even as i take her
top off and
share breaths,
her touch is
recognizable
most nocturnally,
i know the damage
she does to me
she’ll cut my life in half,
she’s the only thing
i will let in that will
**** me,
she moulds
leisure and pleasure
as if i wear them on
my back,
her body is
pale as my fingers
drip down
and feel
as i exhume
her insides
intertwining
with mine,
listening to your
cries as i inhale
provokes me to
do so more
and more
and more
until i leave you
for the night,

i should
indeed quit
smoking cigarettes
as well
Definitely not one of my stronger pieces but whatever flow's out of my mind at the moment I touch the "pen to paper" I neglect to call unimportant due to the fact that my heart is in my hand when poetry is in my mind.
"I kissed a feminist once",
he says, face flushed blotchy, something heavy resting on his shoulders
maybe
“I kissed a feminist once,”
and everybody laughs
“she was cold as ice,” he says
and he doesn’t mention how I turned
warm beneath his fingers,
heated up like embers
and reduced his bed to flame and ashes
“God was she mean,” he says
but he hasn’t forgotten the time
I told him to be kind to himself, to
purge the poison from his veins and
scrape the smoke from his lungs
“I love you I love you I love you”
I said,
“please love yourself too”
“I kissed a feminist once,”
he says, to loud guffaws,
an elbow in his side
and he doesn’t say “her lips
were the softest thing to ever brush
my collar bone”
he doesn’t say “she made playlists in my mind”
or “she covered me like a blanket”
or “her teeth on my earlobe ripped me open and scattered me across the sheets of her twin bed”
he doesn’t say “I loved that
storm of a girl,
I loved her heavy at 4am I loved
her like pennies
at the bottom of a fountain
like memorized freckles
I loved her like depth perception
like opposable thumbs
I loved her I loved her I loved her”
and instead he shrugs
that heavy thing off his shoulders
and shrugs the feel of my lips
off his chest and he says,
“she was a crazy ***** anyway”
- Lily Cigale
This was too beautiful not to share.
wE wOuLd DaNcE iN thE reFriGeratOr ligHts
aS iF nO oNe wAs watching and SING SONGS
NO ONE EVER KNEW AT THE TOP OF OUR LUNGS
WITHOUT EVER pausing to bReAtHe BECAUSE
SUFFOCATION IS NEVER A PROBLEM WHEN YOU
HAVE OXYGEN AND YOU WERE MY LIFETIME SUPPLY
WE WOULD GET H I G H OFF OF
CIGARETTE DAYDREAMS THAT WOULD NEVER BURN OUT
AND ON SNOWFLAKES THAT WOULD NEVER MELT bUT I GUESS
FOREVER ALWAYS MEANT SOMETHING DIFFERENT
TO YOU BECAUSE yOu  hAVE MET SOMEONE ELSE AND
YOU SAY SHE REMINDS YOU
OF ME BECAUSE SHE LAUGHS A CERTAIN
TYPE OF WAY AND LOVES YOU ENDLESSLY
(oops she didn't tell you that yet did she?)
AND I ALREADY KNOW YOU DON'T FEEL THE
SAME WAY BECAUSE YOU NEVER DO AND
I DON'T EVEN KNOW THAT GIRL BUT IF SHE IS
ANYTHING LIKE ME LIKE YOU SO OFTEN CLAIM
THEN pLeAsE dO nOt bReAk hEr
sHe dOESN'T DESERVE IT SHE DESERVES TO BREATHE
OXYGEN NOT CARBON DIOXIDE SHE DESERVES TO
GET HIGH OFF OF HAPPINESS AND NOT AN ASHTRAY
SHE DESERVES A FOREVER and you will never be able
to give it to her, because forever will never mean
the same thing to you.

(h.L.)
i actually like this one
Being transgender is like this:
Everyday of your life, you have always wanted a dog.
For as long as you can remember--
even if you don't know to what extent--
you have wanted one.

You asked your parents, Santa, the easter bunny,
even the tooth fairy.
Then one day you get a dead cat for your birthday.
You say "This isn't a dog,"
But "You get what you get and don't get upset"
So you carry around and care for the dead carcass.

All sorts of people look at you,
unable to understand what you are doing.
So then one day you decide to try to make it look a bit nicer.
You wash it a bit, comb what little fur it has left,
cover the decrepit limbs.

But then you realize the futility in doing this all the time,
because you are still carrying around a dead animal.
So you continue to carry it around because you have to,
no matter how horrible it may be.

Although you are carrying around a dead and rotting cat,
you aren't a ******* cat owner;

You still want a ******* dog.
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