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I'm the one who bleeds herself
Just to live a life of bliss.
But my life is a complete mess.

I live here fantasizing about warmth, so I let myself burn in the fire of affection.
And here, my heart turns to ashes.

How does it feel to have the biggest scar?
Yes, my scar is the scar of love,
Which haunts my mind.

And your words are like knives that stab my heart,
Forming scars that make my heart bleed.

But I'm the kind who clings to the same knives that make me bleed.
My heart has bled so much that the ocean within it has turned red.

But my love is like the ocean, so deep.
Where I drown myself, surrendering to the depths gladly.

Stab me with your love, and I am still ready to hurt my bleeding heart, even if it takes my life.
And I'll be blessed, just to be stabbed by your knife of love.
Isaace Mar 26
In the gloom of the Mindfear Caves, my chanting echoed throughout, and I could see the Seven Heads hovering before me as I uttered the Oblong Mutterings. In here I could become one with the land of Tok-Tuu and its spiritual soul.

Having reached the culmination of my meditations, I emerged from the caves into the warm breast of summer, passing through Tok-Tuu's ancient orchard on my journey home. There, seemingly by fate, I met an old mystic who was in the process of painting the lifecycle of the Bulbous Tree, a tree which grew into full bloom and expired in the space of mere hours. He introduced himself as Outside-Inwards Jenkins— a descendant of Oblong Jenkins-Kennedy— and had been cast from the village of Tok-Tuu for practicing occult techniques in the manner of the forbidden doctrines, using these teachings in the creation of his artworks.

"You shall become my pupil, Earthbeing, and accompany me on my iminent journey into the jungle of Vorboon, in search of the Abstract Scroll. Within its writngs are techniques that are crucial to my artistic progression, and I shall share what I learn with you. Once I have learnt the teachings of the scroll I shall finally be able to complete Emerson, The Great Water Lilly, and apply the finishing touches to my homage of Rotondo The Clown."

Our words had been spoken and I would begin to embark on a quest that would be of great importance to what was meant to be in a time when we would begin.

We began our journey in the evening, when the air was cool and the Bloodfang Mosquitoes were perched high in the trees. The jungle of Vorboon was dark and abstract, especially at night, when winding vines and hollow trees could lead lost travellers deep underground. I quivered in fear as Outside-Inwards Jenkins led me deeper and deeper into the heart of the jungle. However, I still saw an inner light transmute within my mind's eye, morphing into the form of the Abstract Scroll. I allowed this image to guide my fearful heart.
Le Toad Mar 25
Gift of The Magi

Were I, Magi,
I might toss the runes,
Look across the sweeping sands
And marvel at the dunes.
Read the words of poets
Who have courted many moons,
Search the far horizon
For signs of passing.

This sense of great sadness
Moves through the midnight air.
I ask a lone stranger, but they
Just look at me and stare.
And if I stare right back at them,
Their stare becomes a glare.

So I look across the sweeping sands,
And marvel at the dunes,
Open up my velvet bag,
And again, I toss the runes.
Shelly Mar 24
I cant wait to fall asleep to join the world of dreams

I get to join the fairies as they dance in the meadows of the forever blooming flowers

I get to run with the wolves through the forest and never ending unbound lands

I get to jump up the mountains with the mountain sheep to admire the radiant full moon

I get to fly high with the eagles to indulge soaking up the warmth of the sun

I get to swim with sea turtles in the vast ocean waters looking for treasures once lost

Oh how I can't wait to fall asleep to join the world of my dreams

-Shelly Ramos
Zywa Mar 24
Plenty of spotlights

under the bridge, spooky, what --


could have happened here?
From poem "3" in the collection "Hogere natuurkunde" ("Higher Physics", 2019, Ellen Deckwitz), page 26 (-27)

Collection "Death on Cast"
You look tasty in every shade,
So divine in reds,
So savory in blacks.

A sweet treat,
I love you,
In every little fantasy.
Our anniversary was yesterday <3
a poet Mar 5
nothing makes your head swell more than this statement
"my brother, keep the change"
just like that, you are married to 11 wives
6 of them kneeling with pounded yam and spice
the remaining 5 singing lullabies as 18 cry
with you sitting on a chair, made of bones of elephant thighs.

you feel like if you stood, up on the highest peak
you would see the entire world, high lands and the farthest seas
and when your mouth opens, words coming out to speak
like the grains of sand, the people would pour out to listen.

So here I am, my head, as big as a microwave
walking to my hostel.
for now I feel like a king
but by the end of the month, I'm sure
I would wish I didn't speak.
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