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Nov 2011 · 809
We always Love the Dead
Shula E Nov 2011
What could I know of what goes on in the distorted mind
But you were my preferred poison if ever I should drink any Now I'm thirsty, anyone can see
Parched
"They all saw", that's what u said-wrote, rather inscribed, in crayola, on Inside- wood, pregnant with promises
I had a ring
You wore me round your neck
We made up stories
Despicable
Still I have so much anger
Dreams
Memories
Songs
of you, again failing to meet me halfway
impossibly drunk in my eyes
Loathing
and Still it is impossible not to love the dead
We always love the dead, weeeeping desperately upon tombstones
Garlands candles prayers
Please
The walking tossed daggers carelessly and then was really the true weeping
Noone wants that again,
may you rest in peace but rest assured I am
Living in peace
Nov 2011 · 594
Sand in the Wind
Shula E Nov 2011
His eyes are not crazy or wild like mine
in contrast- he is the calm to my storm
Air to my earthiness.
No mud shall build up from the waters of intensity
Iam sure to be dried out and become unstuck
and finely swept along....
sweetly and simply
sand in the wind
Safely, lightly, this desert is our home
Here we have our peace.
Together there is balance, no absence of anything
Unspoken acceptance of untouchable territory
He has his own, and I have my story.
the earth is to me, the air is his glory
It rains here and there but never enough
to trap us in storm, he carries us along
like sand in the wind
Nov 2011 · 3.9k
August just as November
Shula E Nov 2011
We go out running.
Loudly our silence shrieking
back and forth with the wind
forcing itself
knives
into our lungs
You force me farther still over the bridge now
And then we're back there by the water
this is where we were back then
two years before this
two years before all the nightmares
whom have since presses their bodies against me between us
handsome with ****** hands
holding me hostage in their embraces
in my embrace  of myself
It was warm then, with you.
but the moon was just as now.
and you kissed me just as now
and embrace me youre still warm
August just as November.
Stormy just like the weather
Fiercely you make your love to me
So that i remember
Down into the night
you hold my hand and locked in prayer
we breathe...
We stay and look out onto the water
into the past and into the future
You force me farther  still - testing my persistence.
And then after so much waiting
We run back home
finally together
This was written last November, about my tumultous relationship with my childhood friend
Nov 2011 · 771
Scaling the Sun
Shula E Nov 2011
I wasnt supposed to but we went out running anyway. Call me an adulteress, it doesnt matter by now. Ill never reach these places with him that I do here. Here the wine flows down our throats and the wind rips down our hair and backs. And yes for the millionth time we live out fantasies that in others just lay there
dormant in their coffins for etertinity
my heart is an explosion
of a million tiny rhapsodies
racing around the planets
landing for moments
on thoughts
on animals
on stars and on
trees
and on grass
but pounding in my chest and with
ur heart
all at the same time.
You grab my hand and we are at once
scaling the wall less edges of
the scorching sun
and sitting meaninglessly here
in these moments
i want a song written just for me
i want to frolic among a trillion dandelions
in purple linen dresses
u and me
i want the sun to laugh raining and kissing down our necks and backs
it will be a fantasy
we will be friends
soaking up moments like hawaiian punch
delightfully and lustily
and you will sing a song and give it to me
and when you are done it will sing over agian
and we will never be done hearing it
and we will know
I and He
Nov 2011 · 634
Rivers of Wine
Shula E Nov 2011
I licked his lips
They tasted of stale women
Of rivers of wine
Nights of the sound of her dissatisfied sighs.
You tormented heart
Twisting violently to fit the shape of her mold
Pleading for a miraculous flame in the bitterness of her cold
Flecks of blood form here From shards Of
your shattered heart here on my tongue
letting the corpses of its decaying music evaporate into coarse negligence
As if it had never been sung.
Scorned. you weep on my body
My fierce warriors spirit
Frail shoulders attempting to bear the brunt of your past.
Assure you of your beauty and that of the man beneathe the mask.
A tear sneaked out your eye and into my mouth. but i cant drink you in… find a way to get out
Run for your life into the future stop drowning your soul in the river
s of wine
Shula E Nov 2011
Full of anger and sweet sorrow, the fragile butterfly desperately wants a home. She wants the sunshine, she tries to be the sun. All is fair in love and war. Her wings chip away when she is dropped all the time. But this is the price she pays for flying to high places. And beleiving. The price she pays for embracing the wind so unconditionally, for shedding her colors onto gray spaces all because she knows color and about how joy is attained. Her screams are so silent and pierce through the ears of all the rocks of all the mountains. Thus she has no defense but the voice of the mute. She stands alone on legs so weak in a courtroom of lions. She wonders whether she might sometime be granted the privelage from the wind to be carried off and spread into many many different things out into the stormy waters of the ocean. Perhaps then through multiplication, she might be cancelled out. She gazes longful of such a plight out onto the water and by the bank of her broken dreams she sits down to weep.
Nov 2011 · 589
Heartbreak
Shula E Nov 2011
So weary of waging battles for the sunshine, this armor unbearably heavy now, this noose a garland of roses triumphantly paced around my neck. I can embrace a Lover as loyal as the devil, come walk me head on into the deep end of the river, I will surrender to the poison u will force down into my person, intoxicating me forever. Like deadweight I will crash, But a fall after every bone is broken must not feel like much. My casket must be of wicker and roses and I want melodic screams of outrage and wails of horror before and after my eulogy. It shall be marvelously tragic. A light squashed so cruelly so early before it had a chance to light others. And when it is learned of why it had been extinguished, even the faithless will be squirming with a deep shame and irrepairable sense of guilt. And the eternally youthful spirit will settle finally in ways she never could while living, smiling in deep satisfaction and revelling in the hell she has now forever cast upon these mortals.
Nov 2011 · 1.3k
Suicide for dessert
Shula E Nov 2011
After lunchtime, and before tea
Donna quietly bade farewell
to Mr. Samuels
and to herself.
Calmly, she twisted the bolt
into the lock
and pleasantly drew the curtains
closed.
She gratefully glanced at a photo
of her dog
and touched the piano as an
afterthought.
Making quite certain that everything was
tidy, Donna swept up
some dust she had overlooked.
and then after lunchtime and before tea
on a perfectly pleasant tuesday morning
in a perfectly pleasant day in Donnas life
she sat herself down in the
center of the parlor
and without hesitation
ceremony
or further ado,
in 2 swift motions
cleanly slit her wrists.
Shula E Nov 2011
I always encounter different versions of you here
By bodies of water and bodies under stone
I’m trying to figure the symbology
The motion of life and that of no motion
Perhaps its the prominent eternity in both
Tears have been borne forth by the banks of both.
Amid the tombstones and tangleweed, and alongside sand dunes and the reed.
Cries of joy also have erupted from our throats
We were wild horses along the sea’s shore
and giggles at other times creeped out our bellies
Sneaking secret embraces in such haunted places
Strange, how we dishonor the revered silence expected here.
Eerie, how recurrent all this is.
Time and again we are back by these bodies of water and bodies under stone. I’m sure you can twirl our two bodies and make them into one,
hearts and bones don’t easily come undone
Nov 2011 · 799
A Whole New World
Shula E Nov 2011
Like strangers Uninvited
Into each others domain
I crept a little closer to u
That first night on the cabin porch
Your song sang out to me
I made excuses just to get near you
That hookah would travel farther with us
Every conception is so symbolic
Off the bat, don’t deny he was right there, the demon at my shoulder, ashamed of him, I encouraged the demon at yours,
Your river of wine.
You saw him, never knowing how long it would take me to slay it,
And I watched yours never knowing how much you had to drink.
With both our arms caressing our poisons, we reached out the other
Save me you cried
Save me first I beseeched you
So we played doctor and bandaged each other
Til our wounds screeched out in protest
Then the dragon engulfed me and sat on my wings,
You returned to your drinking A sea of red
When the sun came out again, and illuminated our detours
The tides pushed us close, we ran out unclothed into the ocean,
our bodies clung to one another as
Drowners to lifeboats
I limped away from the dragons lair, attempting to unfurl my wings, nursing scars
Crawled into your bed
With your demons tossed aside,
You couldn’t bear the sight of the wounds mine inflicted.
You tried to draw close
I tried to be yours
We flew on a magic Carpet, it was
A Whole New World

I never discarded any part of us, maybe that’s why you never let go
So with one finger wound tightly to your heart in bronze metal,
With the other hand I reached for my sword
And with the courage I never had before, I hunted down my demon.
His head came off swiftly and cleanly
I sidestepped the blood
I carried it by its hairs to your doorstep
And fell into your embrace.

Now we drink from the same river, we share a glass of wine
Our summer fling is over
You are the best thing that’s ever been mine
Its a whole New World
No one to tell us no
Or where to go
Or say we’re only dreaming….
Don’t you dare close your eyes
Hold your breathe it gets better
Nov 2011 · 657
16 hours ago
Shula E Nov 2011
It was not that far off in time
I was spooning your sleeping self
Cradling your flesh with mine,
Smooth skin underneathe my lips
back pressed against the front of my hips
while I thanked God with eyes squeezed tight
For the dawn that breaks out from every night
And with My breathe synchronizing with yours in Gentle joy
I thanked Him for just the warmth of this body
For just the warmth of this boy
Nov 2011 · 604
Walk of Shame
Shula E Nov 2011
This **** of hair
Smells of last nights cigarettes
The crusted wine
Leftover mascara
Is that a tear in my stockings
My feet are painful in these heels
7am is too painful for heels
My head still reels
From the spell you put me under
Over and over
You put me under
And now I’m rubbing my eyes
Hastily making that train
Hurrying home in a walk of shame
Nov 2011 · 2.9k
Pillowtalk Jazz
Shula E Nov 2011
Wrap your legs around me tonight,

he begs

Whisper to me through the web

His voice huskily beseeches

His eyes breathe pillowtalk whisper

fingertips feel a little bit crisper.

Which web, she murmers hungrily

The heat builds between them

as if there is even an in- between.

The cobwebs on my heart.

He groans and shifts and aches

for her sword of velvet to stab through

his doors of steel

Im a slave to you, you’re my heroine

i’ll shoot you up my arm

help me to feel free.

This I can do , her body replies

and its a kaleidoscope of de ja vu and fresh experience

An ocean view of Woman,

and masculine musk

A grave of endless ******

a playroom of opportunity Soon they can’t drown

they will drag against gravity and greet the sun but for now

it is all they can do to stay

afloat
Nov 2011 · 891
Refund on Life
Shula E Nov 2011
What does traffic smell like
Chokes and gasoline and heartbeats gone amok
why are the streetlights so aggressive to my eyes
In the nighttime when the tar burns underneath
And the pressure is peaked between my teeth
Where is the menu
I only wanted food not a fat man
so lie for me to the chef
I want a refund on this life
I want a refund on this life
What does Lust sound like
Sweat and sweet moans
Hands and legs and eyes and sighs
Tonight I will not hold the knife
I don’t want a refund on this life
What does the moonlight taste like
cool licks down parched throats
Owl’s Hoots and distance
Water and void
Tonight the forest is alright
I don’t want a refund on this life
From where is the music coming from
his palm pulsing, lightly singing
Whispered dances treading sweetly
Interlaced with her’s, dreaming of doves over a canopy
Faith in Future
Some nights
I don’t want a refund on this life
Shula E Nov 2011
I miss having you around to say the little things you would say to me, to make it ok. Sweet little lies, perhaps. Perhaps not.

I miss your eyes, with that twinkle inside, with the exclamation points after them, with those crinkles on the edges, especially when you are all vulnerable and cuddly. Funny the weird details that come back up in your memories.

I miss interrupting and correcting you, in the rudest way possible.

I miss you correcting me and then I will pout and give you the saddest eyes and make you laugh at my childishness.

I miss how you looked and pointed at me 2 inches from my face on the bed, and declared, “i LIKE you”.

I miss watching Californication with you, propped up on pillows.

I miss eating junk food and beer while we watch cool youtube videos in the evenings or the mornings.

Or cracking up to a comedy skit.

Sitting with wine at 4am wolfing down tortilla chips, turning over existential ideas in our minds.

I miss you soaping my body in the shower and I miss soaping yours and I miss you making love to me everywhere we did.

On the counter In the closet Against the door On the couch In the shower On the toilet seat down On a mountain downhill Against trees in the forest In your childhood bedroom On the beach In a tent On a log bridge over a brook In the center of a woods clearing

I wanted you to Take me

everywhere.

I miss the forced cigarettes in the cold winter air, or the muggy summer

I miss our trips through this grubby city, trudging through autumn leaves and stopping in clothing stores and markets and city squares, staring at musicians and artists with admiration and jealousy, and bakeries to get your pastry fix and buying hats,pretending we’d last til the winter.

I miss our secret getaways and gossip sessions.

I miss painting and bleeding and dancing and crying and smoking and drinking and singing karaoke and slobbering and running and stopping and stalling and slumping and getting lost.

I miss fantasizing of alternative realities and cities undiscovered. I miss your wisdom-filled advise given to me, and my childlike prudity you brought out of me.

I miss shoving you playfully and skipping down a road together. I miss the smell of Doves men’s soap on your skin and the bristle of your chest hair- the just the right amount of – against mine, smooth.

It was a spectacular Love affair, one for the records for sure. How i miss playing with you>>> How i wish we can play All the time, and keep it quiet so that Reality cant hear us, wild and reckeless, and I’ll grow up on the side of all of it, and you too, if you can, But all the while leaving me behind with you in our eternal playroom, making love in all the ways we did…

One little Two little Three little Indians….

— The End —