I wonder if she can tell at night when we are tangled together I am half goddess -half white hot anger from my mothers side when I go to touch It ends in bruises and bite marks Disguised as pleasure because this is what I’ve been shown Can she see the glow inside of me Is eons of galaxies Condensed to fit inside this skin I do not belong here and I tell her all of it How I fell all burning and ash like a comet Curious about what it felt like to love I needed to taste what it was about this emotion humans would start wars over I’ve only ever been on battlefields ending with one lone victor and I’m trying to understand the way love moves to becoming something I would bring cities down to feel to taste to touch
I have seen friends tie themselves up to the bedposts of lovers who would never give them a second thought If all their pretty untouched skin wasn’t right there To bruise and taste at their convenience we have been told there is no other way for us to hold any value as a person unless someone wants us I have seen friends cry so hard they puked as they untied themselves from those bedposts their wrists had been rubbed raw and they still left their heart behind in hopes he would return it with his own in tow I have seen friends make themselves names in a little black book A faceless body They will let you treat anyway you want because it’s better than alone I have seen friends Break themselves for this twisted messed up version of love that’s being sold to us
- Who taught us how to do that to ourselves - Everyone, everyone, everyone
Forgive this Father I hear those angels speaking of providence A weight on my shoulders reminding me I could be holy This is all my mothers ever wanted for me Bear witness Father They whisper fire is the only way to cleanse Ashes to ashes/ dust to dust The trail of bodies left in the flames wake Belong to no-one other then me Hear this now Father These sunset red lips are paradise to anyone Who wishes to kiss them The angels tell me I can use that to ease a sick soul Trust in this father I’m told I am only doing Gods work
He builds you a cage making the walls out of honey and dew to lure you inside Putting in windows only to then glue them shut He shouts “you can leave whenever you **** well please.” Relishes in punishing you with black magic- that leaves you dizzy for days whenever you try Wilts the flowers you grow for company Convincing you it’s your fault they always die to begin with “If you would just be good maybe I wouldn’t have to do this.” laces you up with ribbons and spider silk Reworks you until you are docile just in his image He’s a dead ***** necromancer and you're the best of both his worlds always on the cusp of being half alive He takes to placing bouquets of your dead flowers on the windowsill his voice renaming and whispering spells to them He does this every time he visits you until they are gleaming once again Eventually you see this act for the warning it is Sitting pretty and doe eyed You now only shimmer and shine if it means he will let you stay
Bypassing the low wall asking for a historical clue from a quaint corroded gate entering garden of reeds crescent pond withered leaves background is wintry amid the elegant layout of great old building a row of lanterns discolored under the eaves like an ellipsis telling of the gardening style ideology and culture horizontal houses left and right air raid shelter behind then turn back toward the hall going down the lane quiet compound of ancient times stuck in the wound of war of the resistance.
My Love Your dreams are all made of war- forged straight from your heart You claim iron does not bend- Only darling I see you choking on the sulphur Why do you give yourself to something so hateful?
My shining light My dreams are all made of war- forged straight from my soul And it’s far easier to swing swords never second guessing- whose on the other end of the blade If everyone is the enemy then who do you have to mourn- When you're standing alone on a killing field of your own making Dear heart How could I not give it everything I have?
Days of pots and pans ladles and bowls sweet words have been cut down during the day the habitual silence can only be broken with stainless steel forks and spoons at night the bed routine both tied back to back snoring and buzzing of mosquitoes intimate conversation happened a long long time ago this double bed bigger than the endless night the fatigue and exhaustion they can only tell you the next morning with a wry smile.
Art is creative, It’s meant to express your thoughts and dreams. Art is breathtakingly beautiful. Art is meant to inspire everyone around the world. Art represents the color of the rainbow---- All colors. Art means it’s full of rich, diverse ideas--- That is strung from the mind. Art is fine. Art is creative.