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May 2015 · 464
A Thousand Heartbeats
VioletNova May 2015
but I swear that if you anchor your wrist
to my roots
you will still clutch the heartbeat
of a thousand cemetery steps
your hands unfold on the tender skin of my chest
in risk of threading the needle
to close to my heart
but the light that fell after
was chapter and verse all along
and with the night we taught ourselves to hunt
and harbor the slow drift of hurried hands
May 2015 · 468
Flowers of war
VioletNova May 2015
your hands have known too many passengers
held to many things
but you still bloom with ancient hieroglyphics
that light the now hours of this sunset veil
and I promise to always shelter you
from the train wrecks
and help you count the moments
that don’t leave bruises on your heart
and for the ones that do I swear
I will knit away at them to keep you protected
because flowers of war
are beautiful when grown together
May 2015 · 276
Untitled
VioletNova May 2015
I am only a tourist
in your collection of hearts.
May 2015 · 417
Expired Heart
VioletNova May 2015
the expiration date you put
on the shoreline of my heart
made me remember
how you got down on your knees
in the fire and
promised like clockwork
hanging loosly on your lips
something dying to love
but lying to protect
screaming whispers
to the versions of moments
that keep looking back
second chances
but there's to much smoke
and we're to broke to feel it
Mar 2013 · 560
This side of Night
VioletNova Mar 2013
Shadows settle
along paved roads
and fences where the
sunset chased
reflections in rear view mirror
glances
between photographs
and moments

where
       the
          night
             begged
                itself
                  to
                    stay...
in some collective box that held
daylight down by your
childhood home
free
holding limbs and fractures
and each remark swallowed
in churning sound
lungs of light and darkness
chewing itself away
in the hours
gone
on the long drive
home.
Feb 2013 · 543
How To Paint A Fire
VioletNova Feb 2013
You put the syllables
in your pocket,
exposed to the sky
choked in blood and salt
and I knew you had me
wrapped in blankets of
paint
even though

you ran out a long time ago.
Even though, you have done
this a million times.
Even then,
you manage to
keep the flame
blue.

[ Thank You ]

I can't put  my finger on the trigger
of what drives my soul
to shoot fire upon
the cracks of your back
where lies have been told,
and puppies lay when
there is no one else to
curl up to.

This is a war
with paintbrushes and ink
swelled up against your wrist
like the tide crash of a
thousand acidic water droplets.
consonants strangle vowels
falling from the accident
that left your mouth
beat up with words and whispers
and things no one
ever wants to listen to.

I hear them.

These are just labels
that don't need definition
just all the same subject
that gets caught between
the questions you ask and the
answers I can't seem to find.

But,
I know we plan on being peaceful
and the hours between us
isn't absence.
I'm fully awake,
at the sound of your voice
and days from now
we will listen to what
we say in places of importance
and light will shine
down the river of your arms again
and tomorrow, will  be  better
than the ones before yesterday.

The fire will paint itself,
the bandages will
be the canvas.
Feb 2013 · 714
A Thousand Ships
VioletNova Feb 2013
A thousand ships
sailed like
the day you carved
my breath out
from the inside.

Curtains etch light
against unfinished
cracked walls
calm wind
laid across
abandoned bodies

Words worn like
garments around our
wrists in chords, you
gently raking stars
from my eyes.
Feb 2013 · 905
Room 2401
VioletNova Feb 2013
The signal fire is
coming home.
Desperately clinging to smoke
from the shores gun,
we came from
heart in wire.


Two souls at a negotiating table,
one wounded,
the other taking them in.
Eyes-One String,
a pregnant belly full of
words. Your reclining head,
covered in violets.
Maybe its better,
if you don't say
this isn't everything you are.

The empty bar is quiet in New York..
20 secs till the last call as I run
to the next page, in the next chapter.
Fraile hands hold voices in quakes and
strange music. This room, a shade of wine,
suspended names in vocal chords.
Glasses filled all afternoon, now sip
as I draw the curtain.



comfortable silence blooms alongside a paved road,
somewhere only we know...
in stones it is scattered, spilled against
stolen skin, tattered never torn.
A skeleton key, the master of morse code.
Tattooed against my neck.
sweat.blood.tears
holding tight scars
beneath the surface.


intertwined fingertips pulsate
against the rim of paper,
like the marching bands of manhattan.
distance has torn this earth once,
vindication. Drive, Darling, Drive.
setting the fire, to the third bar.
lifting the sheets that cradle your ****** hands
an emergency room filled with nurses
the crossfire, in my bones, bleeding that
dark roman wine across tables of
a teenage dream.

A heroine saved a life, A hero is absolute.
searching for warmth beneath your pen, your scalpel.
found there is your lifeline, dense breath and trembling.
Stay, you found me.
Knitting away at your skin,
brushing against violet bruises,
imprints of days gone by.
A tower, someone like you, a soldier in silence.
memories reflected in abandoned tattooed houses.
curved around palms, grasping the last bit of
crimson tide.

The reason why: lights burn to crack the shutters
in an attempt to fix you, candles and fireflies
inside these lines, just say yes as the city winds
back down into the wild, and we into the fire.

bricks against our backs,
the electric feel of home, at your side now,
an outline of womb fired venom
fallen empires consuming
day old hate.
every drop of words, swallowed.
vicious stains left by hands, yours.

we go tonight,
this
poison and wine.
A wooden chair
held last night,
friday,
after the fall.
Like glycerine
dripping into rain
fast cars
As I continue to sew all of what your wrist let fly
away in this moment.
Georgia, Texas Rain.
Brush it off.
There are better days, ahead.
The remnants of life are on the blade.
For god sake, dear.
VioletNova Feb 2013
Ill burn this down
to make room
for your sky
full of stars.

words weep unhurried
passing over paralyzed
breath from none
to numbers.


they say eyes are a portal to
the breath of life
each strung out moment
played in the anthem of hands

machines match
a thousand notes
sung in the distance
between fingers
and string

between, pause.

birds, vulnerable
to the sky
in natures abdomen
our
reflection in campfire sonnets

Sipping wine from our sleeves
smell of earth clings to broken skin
bruised by
light strokes of
intention

Zero hour was
found within the rush
of the turning book
pages, that burned
like a soldier
lying in the sun.
Feb 2013 · 484
Blank Hour
VioletNova Feb 2013
Pens fall from lips
quietly inside
a rush
of
dusty mouths laid
across the oceans piano.

The blood stricken
fruit of my heart
drips wine into
a salt rimmed glass.

Truth stained in his
wide, fragile, grin.
Feb 2013 · 468
Stitched Limbs
VioletNova Feb 2013
I wonder what a voice
would taste like
flowered in blood...

These are the hours
that ****** best
in sleep.

On the backdrop
of your clothed embrace,
I have sewn
the trees around me.
VioletNova Jan 2013
Pieces of fabric
swell around my arm
tourniquet bound and
stitched
from the lining of the journal,
exploding in heart shaped stars.

Ventilation
Convulsed laughter
while our eyes didn't quite meet

[long enough]

smiles reciprocate
anyway.

That day a barnstorm
like birds, in high-rise
oak trees, fueled flowers
in garden cradles.

verbiage eaten...
the eventual supper.

Essence of leather
knuckle bound, writing.

I taught you in different chords
a world that retains your
fragile hands.
The crescent shaped
impact on your cheek,
ring on your left
******* glistened
downstream
lighting the way
to my words.

If I had to break,
our cheeks turned,
curling up between
book pages,
and markers that left
stories and towers
taller than mountains.

Ears cuffed with maddening
silence, a distraction
to shut it out.
Mercy, whatever it takes
to cease the personality
of "I'm already lost"
you can keep the change,
and peace.

They say dusk holds on
until the day is born.
VioletNova Jan 2013
Like the sun
[Blinded by the pavement, a clouding-half gleam]
Reflective voice, scraped the
back of...
my knees.

Paragraphs, torn in one-way fashion
He stood in the driveway

Strangled, Shouting.

"Veins protrude through blinded, cosmic dust
Obliterated signs
Distant heart beat follows poison laced intentions
Star crossed dawn torn in twilight
Shadows embrace, welded galaxies
Explosion retracts out of stolen glances,
Await…unavoidable exchange.
Lie still, cries the chamber.."


Quick and Silent.
Jan 2013 · 891
Alkaline Heart
VioletNova Jan 2013
We have always been bigger...
than stars.
The sky a stage
spoken intimacies
of velvet hearts
and ***** hands.

I wander the comet of
truth with moon-filled
eyes. Waiting, bow-shaped.

I couldn't help but notice
those constellations were
made for sin.

Stealing glances of
tightened skin too explosive
to retract.

Tiny pools of passing rain
drag an ellipsis around my tongue.

And from this side of Babel
light glares inside
sprouting roots.

Silver Cerulean Decembers
bundle themselves
winter by winter.

Cloaked by the tree,
a heaven of insistence and glass.

Words falling weightless-
sun bleached leaves
into palms of hands.

Glimmering abyss of
infinite ice, fractured bloodless
upon starless earth.

Saliva brushed shock
Alkaline flesh-
on napkins that
hold, what they
have forgotten.

Avoidable words
that keep us fed...
back to my chamber heart.

Every single time.
Jan 2013 · 1.5k
Parking Lot Conversation
VioletNova Jan 2013
galaxy.
*cosmic.

constellation
explosion
now.
present.
three-dimensional.
zero hour
infinite
tunnel vision
proliferate.
obliterate
paradox
existential
hypnotize
twilight
melancholy
rush
orbit
choir
parallel
sublime
conscious
claim
strong
vindicated
frequent.
fallen
free
secrets
delicate
envelop
common
echo
violent
beg
complex.
release
natural
heartbeat
determined
fear
daring
battlefront
efficient.
wine
courageous
scarred
wise
poison
trust.
eternity
confident
ecstasy
ordinance
splinter
thin
darkness
reverent
veil
admirable
unremitting
acidic
lethal
responsible
VioletNova Jan 2013
The table still brings up your name
when I visit quietly sitting.
The curl of ink, which stained the wooden
porch of thick smog.
Today I walked by,
eyes grazed between metal shackles that close
the place where
a thousand notes were exchanged.
It was crossed out between pages and lines
the words are still attached to the ruins we left
behind that day.
Gathering the dust, inside my pocket,
I walked on, only to look back at the bargain sign hanging
in the window across the hallway.
Couldn't today of been, then.
Jan 2013 · 629
In Screaming Bloom
VioletNova Jan 2013
I never thought
I would pine for the way
a heart...

could implode.

The falling together
The ****** laceration and
for the first time in my life
I realize that I'm
twitching from lack of sleep.

My pillow
shudders loud.

Remembering the note
I hold with intent
blaming myself for getting lost
inside this Polaroid.

Van Gogh furnished a eulogy
for the rant in the wake of
this scar that implants itself in the
palm of...

breathing.

Our ribcage could use a
little bloodshed.

We scream in flooding bloom.
Jan 2013 · 519
Heavy on the Stones
VioletNova Jan 2013
A leafless tree
Arms folded, at waistside
naked eyes hidden beneath
the shade of a plastic lens.

Breathing life in open air,
Lost and found
isn't discovered in a box



Sometimes, those moments
bruise us. My hand, torn
shoe string of tattered fever
which holds intent like
an infant, cradled.


You never told me it would
last this long.
Penetrating vice of verbage
that hold lips in
backward content.

Annotation: Faded Tattoo


We can't always connect
cities, streets or names.
And this bloodshed inside your
journal can move quickly.


Born again into city streets
At night, when the world is still
the mirror of ashes consist
of watching this dawn
until our fingers sing
the silence of things.

Laid out like soldiers
under dim lights,
what happens if a car comes?
We dream this in lilting laughter.

If I had a lotus flower,
if only.. I had.

Hanging on ivy vines.
Your taste is, impeccable darling.
Jan 2013 · 324
Left to Write
VioletNova Jan 2013
Bound by straps,
the scent reminds me of freedom.
Expression is written between lines of a trees last breath.  
Merged into binding,
the earth left leaves for me to pick up.
Grabbing in both hands, shaking, left to write.
Jan 2013 · 601
Half-Dead Balloon
VioletNova Jan 2013
All we want to do is sleep...
inside me is a city
an entire world
congested with clouds
and one way traffic.


I passed the range of midnight,
soft and slowly it became a footfall into the back of his clothing.  

My words become shrill,
like helium escaping the most half dead balloon.
We are close enough to see them,
the days, years..
paths controlling this blissful evolution,
forever evolving.

Here rested on a beam,
a ball of light,
wrapped in string,
floating..10 secs of forever. evolving.

We can't always escape the thickened edges.
Leaves of ivy, moss and eyes of violet.  
The reflection you laid inside my hands,
*****, worn, out. T-shirt.

Washed with the most potent sound of trees,
still stained by the blood of winters bloom.  
Pulling closer each minute threads the needles eye
and the hour unwinds itself...again.  We are timeless.
Jan 2013 · 471
Folded Hands
VioletNova Jan 2013
sunlight shared on sections of paper,
wells of ink ruin lines
on the heart-altered wreath
of folded hands
Jan 2013 · 611
Flight
VioletNova Jan 2013
We watch the ink stain my fingers
as you lay bleeding in your verbiage.

It is night, a starry pitch black affirmation.

Curling pens trapped in a resting place of
wrong and right.

Inside the fireplace, dissolving laughter
with each stampede of "uh huh and yeah".

Memories pass back and forth multiple times,
and words are written from ticket stubs,
crumbling flowers and photographs.


Sleepwalking into planets,
this is what we have.
This is what is left of
half torn pages and a
conversation between friends.

I hold my breath in the way you read your favorite book,
each syllable between pages 2 and 401.
Here, stories are procreated in wombs of long forgotten worlds.

Sometimes, we are wounded best in the quiet.
In the heart of every road taken,
life gives way to standing still on the weight of discussions,
cheeks pressed firmly into dirt.

Humming in the wake of silence,
aborted telegraph wires have shelter
from the rain.

Peeled skin puzzles place themselves within the blackout newspaper rants.

I spilled my guts on your best shirt, light blue.
Jan 2013 · 556
Faded Notes
VioletNova Jan 2013
Faded stamps
make nests inside
envelopes that carry
the throat of
swollen notes.

Yesterdays run down
like honey against the edge
of your mailbox, I've sent the
years that never left you.

When did you move towards
the echo of reoccurring reflection
to remind yourself to breath again.
I thought it was strange too,
for the first time.

The moment has come for me to go...
but don't leave, I'll be right back.
Jan 2013 · 892
Obsidian Train
VioletNova Jan 2013
In pairs
hostile eyes,
whispers break the insulting moments
which disappear into the darkened hallways of Auschwitz.


Ghosts crucify themselves upon walls and bunks,
where bodies laid in a night full of stars,
we can't see them from here.


Midnight escapes by cattle car trailers
white lips washed with anothers red crayon
disconnected in their human wasted fashion
fingers fall like coins, into their pocketed skin.


Trapped beyond a brittle ribcage,
lost by hearts, dumped into winters rage
by a leash of uncertainty and forgetful snow.
Dry once, with stronger bones.


How swollen are our hearts
when the sun goes down
into desolate night.
Come morning,
everything we bare
has learned to expire on its own.
Dec 2012 · 1.1k
Lamp Light
VioletNova Dec 2012
The lamp will burn the longest as we watch,
blood to pavement in the form of a breathing heart.
Plastic flowers sigh within these annotations,
the cement can only hear what we create.
Voices unheard of from those running into the dawn,
hammered out by ignorance.
Moon craters shift toward fingers
that pierce the sky dripping sobs
and curses and faces white as chalk.  
Tombs laid by hearses,
not with haste
but, a decent taste of prayers and monstrous mourning.
The flowers today keep us here, the constellations keep us high.
Dec 2012 · 863
23 Words
VioletNova Dec 2012
The world wanted to stop burning
but, our bodies supported
each stage of our shouted defense,
the room one wants to escape to.
Dec 2012 · 1.4k
Crawl
VioletNova Dec 2012
Letters arrive from their fence post stable,
touching them at midnight under the moon.  
Hands shake, gutted, almost in a delicate tone,
but trembling at the mouth.

Read one by one,
swelling the joints around my teeth,
lines delivered, in the eyes of a mocked sneer.

They don't understand
the frozen picture frame of this puzzle.
At dawn, we crawl back to life.
Dec 2012 · 770
Appetite
VioletNova Dec 2012
Your hand signed the waiver that fell from the tower
Taxed fingers cramped with quills upon a sloped hill.

The darkest soil smells of legendary riddles,
deeper than anything still, never seen by outside eyes.

Id rather write to you on days like this,
from dawn to dusk scattering freedom in willow whispers.

Infinity placed upon elbows,
for years the lines were tattooed against aged skin.

Childhood conversations,
rare moments
remembering what flying was.

Grounded by memories,
bones pull skin across the settling of this harnessed appetite.

— The End —