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Black moss and flower pots.
She cometh not, she cometh not.
Lonely and moated,
Rusted nails broken.

Dew with tears,
An hour before sunlight.
Cold winds wake,
A greyish mourn.
Clustered marish-mosses,
Silver green bark.

In a dreamy home.
Among wainscot,
Door hinges creak.
Like a mouse,
She shrieked-
She cometh not, she cometh not.
Bohemian Mar 13
Ever,if we meet under the canopy of coincident
Your collars shall be on the verge
To be plucked out by me
With the 'good-girl nails' plunged into your flesh
I promise,
I'll get the red in you,out,oozed
Soon will turn you Sapphire blue
Neither your counters
Nor roughness would chase that of mine
Now then you shall be Kisna's pigment
I shall embellish a Peacock's feather on your unkempt hair design
Your hair that you've nurtured in masculine style
Torn apart and your face wet in wild wine splashed back to conscious mind
A smile for witnessing you mad at me
But anyway vengeance was mine.
KM Hanslik Jan 23
How long does it take
for the words to travel from your brain to your vocal cords?
How long does it take
before you realize scratching names into sidewalks
is not enough
the stone will wear away
and your fingernails are ******
and you are walking home alone
and you can't save anybody?
She does nails
she's got indomitable *** appeal
a lunging sort of a walk
a swagger sort of a talk
when she's on the up and up
but a straight lace face otherwise
hurling enigmatic hellos
sweeping up confetti good mornings
blowing merry christmases
swaying in then out
long-time-no-see like
it's that end of the year ear to ear
cozyjune Sep 2018
the bathtubs full with cold water - you place your hands on the inside of my ribs - the petals drop like last nights shooting stars - and you told me that was your first kiss - bang bang on my windows baby until i wake up - because no one can know that your in here baby no i don't want no fuss - nails scratching down your velvet skin - do you know how to make me spin? can you make me spin? baby i need you to make me spin - was it really your first kiss? - why do we always lie like this - cry like this - staying awake late in the night to feel your lips - on my hips - make me forget
Shellac looks real pretty
It’s also tough and gritty
But when it’s chipped and ******
You have to again dive into your kitty
Which is a pity

You can’t just whip it off
For that varnish is ****** tough
It’s made of very strong stuff
And a chisel ain’t enough
Which is rough

It requires professional help
Heavy duty acid to make it melt
Then they scrape it off which is ****
Every chunk when it’s peeled can be felt
Which makes you yelp

So you pay them to put it on
And you wear it a while which is fun
But when you’re finally done
You must pay again to make it gone
Which is a con

So enough of shellac have I had
For the expense is driving me mad
Never again will I succumb to this fad
Unless a lottery win do I have
Which is sad

It’s a waste of tinfoil after all
To have your mitts so adorned
You could almost plug them into a wall
And power the entire street from dusk til dawn
Which could cause a fireball

Then you’d be totally fried
And have no need for shellac which once tried
Is so addictive it bleeds your bank dry
Until you wake up and see the light
Which is right

Traditional nail polish is best
Though the fumes do play **** with your chest
And it don’t last as long as the rest
But at least it’s not much to invest
Which is the test

So I’m sodding the shellac
Giving gels the sack
To basics I’m going back
Using the old laq
Which is cheaper, albeit ****

And that is that.
mt Jun 2018
u don't believe in God but u tell me i'm an angel.
i hear the devil when u speak to me,
when i see the curve of a hip or soft skin between thighs.
your nails painted the colour of your core, your lashes long and wispy.
i think it's too much, you tell me i think too much
and i think you think of kissing me too much.
two girls but only one of them is in love
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