Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Lexie Rose Apr 2020
Ivory leaves sprouting from your knuckles
light streaming through your lashes
as snowflakes braiding your stone fingers
moving reaching for the sun
bark ascends from the earth raising you
becoming you encasing you in a sheath of Laurel
roots journey from your feet exquisite as butterfly wings
hair turns to foliage Evergreen
Based on the Greek myth of Daphne and Apollo.
PoserPersona Aug 2018
Riches begot with credit stock

Power bestowed with golden crown

Glory bequeathed with laurel wreath

Marriage beseeched with diamond ring

All things beheld 'til evening red
Leslie Ledezma May 2017
Your image lingers
And I stare at the pale clear sky
Where can I go?
How about the glowing oasis of your words
But when I get there, the silence is strong.
Those who were for you, couldn't fathom that you're gone.
But I, I hold on.
In this green pearly lagoon
Lie images of you, treasured, so good.

It's the beginning
The end is done.
Still it's freedom
The end is gone.
A glimmering beginning

Your image lingers so
I tried to walk out of the dream
See if I could go on my own and I
Ran right into Laurel Canyon.
Recall where the tale began,
Millions of raindrops in a timeless summer
Racing thoughts and dreaminess alright
It's the summer beginning

I can tell you what I think of at night
When the stars are flashing above
Dazzled, dazzle by strangeness and sight
Dazzled, dazzled, dazzled and I think I know what to do
Pick up where you left off, nothing else I can do
Wendy Mar 2015
Walking down the short hallway to the restroom, Laura was definitely feeling the buzz. She even had that chemical burning lovely shades in her digestive tract, or at least, that's how it always felt when she got high. That **** burned right through her inhibitions and her exhaustion; it made her watchful and ******, any touch felt like lightning. A GOOD TIME kind of time comes to mind, where merely a pair of lips and teeth scraping against her skin could make her come......a drug that was so disgustingly ****** to her it would probably have ruined her for a sober life. Forever ******* and trying to find the heights she had once achieved even with the most incompetent lovers. It was truly a drug for a woman. Always the ones expected to make someone feel better than they are, constantly begged to lend validation to the worn and make them feel new again with your love and admiration. It absolutely disgusted her sometimes the things she had done, but you could never deny her the title of success in that arena. She had traversed a pile of trash and made them feel golden and important, even allowing a man to **** her soul until it couldn't love anymore. Lack of responding was forever to be her kryptonite....but here she lies, Laura, the fuckingest of the *******, and queen of the ******* she ****** back to life in her drugged state- the only time she had ever been able to stomach being a "modern" woman. Covertly sneaking the addicts and the losers love underneath the table....trying to make them rise up and redefine it all. But her army would never come, and the war would never begin- thinking they would be the only ones who would fight for her, the ones she had bore into full men, but oh was she wrong. And oh was she stuck for good.

Ever since she has felt a dissonance from a pleasure. But back to her present past we were talking about...she is walking down a hallway feeling that nice fuzzy synth feeling. The sexiness and the sway in her own hips is even electrifying her...turning her on....getting lost in the restroom between her own legs and also a straw up her own nose....CHOP CHOP CHOP...then the sweet SNIFF SNIFF SNIFF.....circling her reflection in the mirror after each hit trying to see how it changed her on the outside....she felt so alive for the first time after a life that seemed to have been filled with oppression prior to this dark crystals reawakening of her senses. But she began to see shadows in the night; shadows of the past, shadows leading to the monster's locked away in the recesses of her mind that were only allowed out sometimes. She felt lost in the dreaming of this toxicity of her inner haven...even her psyche had been taken over. All she longed to do was ****, smoke, please, and be incredibly beautiful and feel wanting/wanted....desire in the purest form no matter what it was about or what it was for....forever spinning around looking for what was not lost, but definitely for something in herself and others that was never quite enough. That's probably why she lost that one man, or the next....she could never fully finish because it was an ongoing walking, uncontrollable stimulation....always on the brink of ****** and always searching for it. Even after feeling it it didn't seem to quite satisfy..."I can't get No Satisfaction" comes to her ear in these moments...blinding her ****, spilling into her overly absorbed and enlightened prefrontal cortex. She thought she was such a genius...planning to make money and run away into this lifestyle and never re-emerge again. Oh but she was cunty and ****** up and made too many fall in love with her....and after the only one she truly loved betrayed her....told her and showed her that he could never be the lover he promised he would be in prison, well....she got spun for life and hasn't been fully untangled since....It's a drought season in the year of that love....she could bring about all the desire in that man, even make him love her....for who she really was not just the doped up junkhead she had become....but it would never be enough because his demons couldn't be satisfied with anything but a jail life full of structure. Her ***** lips couldn't seal him in tight enough, close enough to home to stick.....and so as he disappeared from her heart willingly....so did her sanity. Going truly mad over this sick and constantly incarcerated beautifully disgusting soul broke her. Wanting to love him better, to love him the way she wanted to be loved so bad.......and not getting it not even once. . . Travesty in her heart...sobriety spinning her out into dope again, and the ten mile walk of shame after she couldn't find him again when he ran from her insanity that had been induced....well....she almost died just trying to stay in love with the one person in all her dope days that made her feel loved and celebrated....not just ******, symmetrical, and ideal.....she never wanted to be ideal, she just wanted to be enough.
Riding along with her own self hate on the coaster of her life into all the wibbly wobbly bits of life that could never be explained away....only tears could seal them far enough for heart to be so far from touching them she didn't even want to go through the trouble anymore
Liz Apr 2014
Vivid forget me nots feign sleep,
their tired eyes tinged pink.
The soap and chlorine
at Lyme Regis bay
doth stand to make me think

About the way the rushes grow
and what lurks amount the reeds,
what gently dazzles
behind closed doors
and what we doth concede.

Is the laurel leaf unfathomable?
Is nature that way too?
For I feel that I don't understand
what every body seems to.

The humbled bumbles rumbled buzz
Satin saints upon our door
We wonder what was here,  
And what was there before.

The streaming stained glass
waterfalls, were they always there?
The sickled moon stands amorous,
clotted clouds about his hair.

Stately sit the beaded stars
in a wash of sky,

And still I sit, Still I sit,
Sit and wonder why.

— The End —