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lua 19h
i'd like to feel that feeling again
the one that sets my soul on fire
and fills my veins with magic
leading up to my fingertips
leaving fingerprints lined with gold and glitter
that feeling of pleasant pain
the ringing in my ears
and the butterfly garden in my stomach
the feeling on the cusp of being called love
let me feel it again.
Eloisa Jun 12
She drowned herself
in the magical depths of silence.
Searching,
healing,
finding her missing essence.
A much needed retreat to her sanctuary
to find herself!
Ces Jun 12
Magic oftentimes
Come from the sickest minds

And poetry

Born from the aches
Of loneliness

Write...

And make some lemonades
Out of the aridity
Of this life.
Eloisa Jun 11
And the magic stays within her.
Nesting in her ardent spirit,
throbbing in her veins.
It shows up in her tangled mane,
her sunny smile, the sparkle in her eyes.
It’s in her yearning for the evening sun, her walks under the stars and her dance rituals with the wind.
Her magic lives in the corner of her
beautiful broken heart
when she mingles with the fireflies in the woods.
It’s in the way she lays awake,
robed with autumn leaves
under the breath of the moon.
How she hums her prayers in darkness.
Magic is her love and dreams.
Magic is in her flawed heart and scarred soul.
Magic lives in the very fabric of her true self.
TIZZOP Jun 10
back in the days, tales from lauderdale...

yakuzzi gang from oakland park, 308
nightly waves flowin' thru brain channels
the traitor of my memories will judge me
no other day, 38ers, toni der assi, stoogie

two existences, eager brothers at arms
shake em the shake, rip and run, zippas
platin zippos, trip-apache, brave bear
the tents of the past remain as debris

as long as doom's grace feeds us lust
struggle on, lights out, turn me on, baby
shivering is the silver sun at dusk here
and gangsta poets speedin' thru alleys

fat **** frank oversees all oceans, inc.
friends at the thames, partners in crime
the green shining, ultra fresh scent, yeah
bodegas are useful for distribution

nevah, tho', enter these places at night
brooklyn heights, floor 64, 65 & 66 locked
merciless fred, sumptuous leather jacket
cuban necklace jeezy boostah, spiderman

dead blueline pitbulls, ****** cages,
rageful is the age of ours, my friends
sunday's dawn opposes my design
in the corner of my room, hidden
*** GANGSTAPOETRY ***  
        *** 48 SOULS ***
    ***  CREATION 96  ***
There's something unsettling
about this feeling of loving hopelessly.

My toes
are constantly ready to push off and
dive into a pool that's empty.
It holds no water or promise,
but I get up and jump
again and again.
This is what  reparable souls are made of
Magic, drunken thoughts, and bravery all wrapped in delicate skin.

My mother has warned me
of this feeling before.
and how it ends in tissues and stitches.
But I call her and urge her indiscretion
to my father and her emotions.

I crave the feeling of feeling stuck in your gut,
where your body aches but it’s
wrapped in silk sheets.
Feelings
that consume my mind wholly, constantly, agonizing and yet
I stand on the diving board
ready to crash again.
Sleight of hand combined with misdirection
so you miss the moth eaten crushed velvet
of my finest stage jacket,
the flop sweat beneath the powder
I gesture to the monument of worries
towering behind me

With flamboyant flare
Presto!
The monolith of my life’s troubles
is no longer there!

You are right to give slack jawed applause
and question my technique,
just don’t peek behind the curtain
beyond the mirrors where it
all still teeters

Until the lights go out, I’m cured
Time passes by like a whistle in the wind. Ignored and only observed within the thickness of one's skin. The once gnawing temptation in Lula's eyes were now exchanged in kaput like a dead black swan in the lake.

It grew on her and she can only justify it by moving her legs back in forth and forward with her ballet shoes; she can only obtain her physical through the applause of everyone around her. Yet, there were trickles of blood forming inside her internal wound — as the piano strikes another note in A minor, she can only whisk in pain and undone drafts in her head. "Tis will be over", she raises her head upon the crowds heaping in excitement, she turned around and flew her wings upright and the heads of the audience once more clapped in vain and delirium nonsensical pleasure.

As Chopin's symphony were almost in the last note, she stood straight and made her way to the middle. There, she locked eyes with her forbidden lover and a small smile throughout. The intensity of another Vivaldi's winter classic can be grasp once more and another set up of white swans gathered together — formed a circle and she went in the middle. Her eyes turned black and her wings bleed another tint of jet black and crimson. The crowds awed in reverence and she soared above them. A starlet in the headless crowds and dreary sweet rustle of voices gave her another bliss.

And while she was served aloft, there were another macabre symphony that plays through the soft rough piano; it was a solemn prayer and they were the kind souls going up to the heavens.

"Go on, Salem. Play the winter magic," Salem could only look at his muse and he strike another note, passing notes two steps from their 'haven'.

Lula slowly ripped her wings for the last time and smiled to all the headless men. Her satin dress reveals her plumpy chest and an hourglass body. Lula is a goddess black swan. Men could only forward their eyes and threw her pennies once more and she could only move in her balletic conventional pose. For the last time, she flew with her black tinted wings and they were all beheaded.

The white swans began to sing in a solemn outcry until it became too remorseful. The white swans turned their heads down when they met Lula's dead eyes. Her laugh echoing the whole stadium with its own persona and it is like crawling down into waltz where it reaches their earshot. They can only sing in albeit and expensive heads started to explode.

"Two steps from hell," she sings.
You can listen to, 'Salem's Secret' by Peter Gundry. This is where my inspiration came from.
Adrie May 29
Hidden behind the snowy mountains, the little birds whispered their spells.
Above them, old trees began the choir of bells
White moon, sky protector, listened quietly while enjoying the fragile peace.
Knowing that soon all will change, when people come out of their dreams.
f May 20
the light that flows in and
through you.
i have been chasing magic like this
for so long
i forgot how the flame burns.
queen . CASHFORGOLD
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