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Inherent disregard to my own scars
drain this chalice of my inebriated blood
akin to the taste of cyanide, cascading down your tongue
a sacrilegious demon may not be evil
my church is but of rotting wood and bone
my fragile prayers are not enough to hear
no, not enough to hear such a far away thought
reverberating in my head the battle rages
never ending echo, forever, la douleur exquise
Inspired by la douleur exquise a term that defines one who craves the affection of one who is unattainable. This is how I feel or would feel in said situation. I can't say if it's me. Thanks Lee.
Today Is A Quiet Pallette Of Blue Which, In Fact,
Sits Secluded From Every Yellow, Pink, And Red,
It Is Cold And Quiet--Idle As An Afternoon Rain,
Lethargic And Angry, Hard Yet So.. So Silent...

Today Is A Blue Day, It Is Bluer Than My Very Soul,
It Is A Blue Tuesday, Darker Than A Saturday Night,
The Sky Is As Gray As The Sea, But It Is Twinkling,
The Notes It Sings Turquoise As Tropic Waters

Today Is A Soft Baby Blue, Contorted By A Tough Navy,
A Harsh Golden Sunrise Has Turned To A Gray,
The Mush Colored Sky Is Tamer For The Blue Eye,
And The Blue Eye, Is A Window To A Blue Heart
Hmm...
I kinda wish you'd give me a shove
slap me in the face, or direction,
metaphorically.
Then at least when I trudged down the sidewalk I would be dignified
Bruised but not scarred I could cry you out
But here I am
Caught in limbo with long nights and short chats
Come, Sit Here With Me,
Let's Dip Our Toes In The Creek,
Though It's November,
Let Us Watch The Waters Gleam
As They Swirl Around Our Feet

Come, Lie Here With Me,
We Could Kiss Or Count The Stars,
Though It's November,
We Could Still Have Frosted Dreams;
Steal The Night And Call It Ours

Come Here, Keep Me Warm,
The Sun Does It's Job, No More,
Though It's November,
We Could Still Go To A Lake,
And Build Castles On The Shore
The Last Of Summer's Shriveled Leaves Held On,
A Blistering Wind Had Grasped Their Frail Stems,
And Ripped Each One Off Until They Were Gone;
They Fell Slow Between The Tree's Tangled Limbs

The Last Of Springtime's Robins Had Shivered,
The Orange On Their Bellies Now White From Snow,
Winter's Cruel Bite Seeping To Their Liver,
As Their Eyes Lost The Summer Sun's Stale Glow

The Last Of Fall's Lazy Currents Had Ceased,
And The River Creaked With White, Crispy: Ice,
Robins Scowered What The Ice Had Released,
Skittering Along The Banks Like Starved Mice

The Warmth Within The Trees Has Now Vanished,
The Robin's Song Was Now Chilled And Famished
I Took A Walk The Other Day Along The Now Frozen Mississippi. A Flock Of About 20-30 Robins Landed In A Tree On The Bank Next To Where I Was Sitting. The Bank Was Sligtly Open And They Picked Through The Frozen Dirt For Food Which Wasn't There... There Is A Condition These Robins Suffer From Which Doesn't Allow Them To Return South Because Of The Corruption Of A Gland Behind Their Eyes Which Allows Them To See The Magnetic Field Of The Earth--Which Is Their Built In GPS. This Gland Has Been "Whacked Up" Because Of The Frequenzy Emitted By Cellphone Towers... Last Year In The Middle Of December A Flock Of 9 Surived Until The First January Blizzard..
This Christmas Season,
I Have Only One Gift For You

All My Love

And

Maybe

A Kiss

Or Two
<3
My Lips Are Set Straight, Chapped, And Thin.
    Heart
             Is
                 Thumping
                                Wildly
                                         Pushing
                                                      Blo­od
                                                              ­ Through
                                                                ­               My
                                                              ­                      Hot
Clouds Scurried Across The Sky Like Thin Blue Veins
                                                           ­                        As
                                                              ­                 If
                                                              ­             It
                                                              ­    Were
                                                        ­      A
                                                Captive
 ­                                   Animal
                       ­    That
                    Had
            Been
       Set
Free From Accusation The Birds Soared Above Me
    ....
        Such
               An
                    Interesting
                                ­      Concept
                                                   ­ Because
                                                        ­          How
                                                                ­          Does
                                                  ­                                One
The Leaves Fell In Circles Around Me; It's Fall I Know
                                                            ­                          If
                                    ­                                         They
                                                            ­        Truly
                                                             Are
                                                   "Free"
                                            And
          ­                           Not
                            Being
                   Held
       Captive
  By
The Dawn Is Quiet Since Deserted By The Sparrows
     Sky

*Sydney
I Have Become The Songbird's Favorite Summer Tree, And My Precious Sparrows Are Flying Away, Else Where, Without Me, For I Am Grounded By The Hardening Soils..
My Throat Red And Raw,
I Am Drinking From The Sea,
My Reflection Blurred,
Frigid Yet Soft Like The Stars,
My Eyes Dark And Vacant*

                         My Fists Are Clenching,
                      Trembling In Waning Light,
                           I'm Thinking Of You,
                  For I've Dreamed Of You Again;
                           A Pale,  Lonely Memory


You Are Small And Frail,
Wrapped In A Plaid Comforter,
Tears Roll Down Your Cheeks;
You Were Thinking Back To Me,
When Your Hell Had Just Began


                              I'm Biting My Lip,
              While Watching The Leaves Recoil,
                             I Am Fidgeting,
                  Taping My Pen Rhythmically,
                     Trying To Distract Myself


I Breathe In Deeply,
My Heart Is Beating Too Fast,
I Gently Touch You,
You Turned To Look In My Eye,
You Murmured,"Why Are You Here?"


                                I Rub My Forehead,
                        My Palm As Cold As The Air,
                               I Stare At The Ground,
                      My Thoughts Are Disorganized,
                      Strewn Around, Pictures Of You


I've Jumped In The Sea,
Your Sad Eyes Have Seen Me Off,
For Some Strange Reason,
I Don't Feel Satisfaction,
Only A Hint Of Pity


                                   I Do Feel Relieved,
                     Not Because You Have Crumbled,
                                 But Because I'm Free,
                    I Am Free From Your Strained Grasp,
                      For You Had Said That One Word


*Goodbye
Hmm, Take It How You Want.

All I Needed Was A Goodbye<3

Step 4 Towards Self Forgiveness:

I've Realized That My Past Actions Did
Not Only Affect Me.. And Those Actions
Had Pushed Someone Down A Path Which
Lead Them To Hell On Earth.. That Is What
I Had Wanted In The Beginning, I Was Bitter--But Now
That I've Seen That It's Actually Happened,
I Am Not Relieved--I'm Petrified

I Had Been Drinking The Darkness Of The Sea,
Dwelling On My Twisted Reflection,
When Really I Should've Been Swimming To
New And Better Prospects--Than Soaking
In The Ancient Waters Of Pain.
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