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#cinders
There’s a holocaust sweeping through my body but i call it love, strap myself to its stake as a sacrifice, relish how its fire dignifies me, how the tongue-like torso of my scent rolls out to taste God. You, with the hot air for hair, you with the sparking skin, feed my flames, you hearteater, the mouths on your cheeks open wide & I enter, as if to join the rest of me; see how all that is left circulating in my veins is your voice; my body, now inanimate, an instrument for your heartsong—hear its cinders sing like cicadas—here is the sequel to your stones thrice striked.
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Dec 26, 2020
Dec 26, 2020 at 1:29 PM UTC
Heart(h)
Cinders and ashes cover the ground Mama and papa nowhere to be found I scream out loud; no, there's no sound Oh where, oh where, could they be Mama and papa nowhere to be found Could they be singing my lullaby Oh where, oh where, could they be Please, cry out that old melody Could they be singing my lullaby I shant go far from the truth Please, cry out that old melody The song that reminds me of you I shant go far from the truth I know they'll be sleeping with stars The song that reminds me of you That one last tune from afar
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Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 1:36 PM UTC
Cinders
burn the remaining parts of this paper heart.
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Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 9:58 PM UTC
you are brighter than me so set me alight.
Sadists, aren’t we all… abusing that for which we fall… The way that I’m obsessed… with the fabric of your dress Although it doesn’t feel as good… as tender skin beneath it would So it deserves the claws… and lacerated ribbons’ flow… Of all the fingers, it’s the thumb… that sees the broadest, like the sun Runs in circles on those knees… the sweet of you I love to read Yet passion thrives on sacrifice… with aftermaths of melting ice To treat the paintings on your skin… which lust, in trance, would blindly leave Like every coin, there are two sides… and truth is tasting both in life… The things that we adore… our hunger paints in gore And now you’re in the palms… their lips brush off the calm… The sinking of the teeth… the flavor underneath...
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Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 12:28 PM UTC
Sculpturing
Outside, the world is hurdling on through space and time and everything else While our people tear each other to ruins. Inside, the walls come crumbling down taking blood and bone along with it While embers burn to ash in what's left of our minds. The end of the world is such a concept Because what's ending? I can assure you one thing: Nature existed far before humans arrived and nature will continue to exist after. Forest fires rage through countrysides and mountain ranges But no time is wasted before new trees are growing out of the cinders. With us, a forest fire rages through our being and we drown as the flames burn us from inside until it's too late And there's nothing to show except a blackened shadow on the ground we once stood Because we paved over any chance of rebirth when we stoked the fire and gave in.
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Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 11:43 PM UTC
Forest Fire
Singing to tunes of Cinderella, not knowing one day I'd listen again; Tears burning behind these dull hazel eyes, which have seen the lost and been the innocent. Aspects of me now lay in cinders, you haven't completely burnt me yet. My throat is parched. My voice is raspy. But I'm still here. So stop lighting up the fire place, there's already so much ash up in here! Stop and just leave me be. Aspects of me lay in cinders. My life lays in ashes. My bones wish to lay in peace.
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May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 5:05 AM UTC
In cinders