Raven Brewer Jun 2013
I stand before you naked and bare,
Vulnerable and scared
With trembling hands, and shaky breath
Because you gingerly stripped me
Of the armor I had long ago melded to my being.
You carefully untied the intricate knots
That had tangled my chaotic mind.
You skillfully unfastened the clasps,
Which held together my crippled heart.
You watched as my insecurities
Fell to the ground in a pile around my ankles.

I stand before you naked and bare
With trembling hands, and shaky breath
Because the impassioned stare your eyes posses
Pierces the façade that I had shrouded myself with.
The softness of your caressing lips
Comforts the exhaustion of fleeing love.
The heat of your searching hands
Melts the ice that encases my thoughts.
The pressure of your firm body
Pushes away the worries of acceptance.

I stand before you naked and bare
Because your love has set me free from myself.
Ah the perfect boy

Mushy and gushy, all human like, with normal human skin, and smile

Scratch that

Heavy body armor, brandishing a sword, born in the mid 15th century

Hmmm, no

Aluminim for hair, copper in his head, lack of understanding of any type of human emotions

That's not right, no

How about
Not possible
Smells fishy
A being of pure light energy?
Sigh, beyond my comprehension

I guess I'll just get
A pet rock
Im celebration of international rock day
Her pulse rate
Please match me
"Bee's high"
Those money flies
Honeycup fingers devour it
The yellow- brick road pours it
The Van Gogh yellow
Honey Queen Bees follow
their fellows
Am I Waiting? 12345_*

The first mate
he ain't got my sting
The others  don't mean a thing
The headset swirled to pitch black
I turned over to bright yellow
wanting her back
Too many honeycombs
spoiling his ring,
I felt lonely his one and lovely
His honey like some hot disease
What an increase in salary
month of June
All the Kingsman double sting it

On the ebb, to triple play it
It's a  Lil- Deb on the ebb
buzzing the personal
Up close the sting
One of a web kind
He makes his move
"Google it" checkmate

Miss Butterfingers her
clicks get stuck
He caught her act
What a stinker

He checked her off the fate
of a singer

To update, on the ebb bees
Sting Shrine what's mine why on your time?
That parking meter swarms build me a buttercup
On the ebb of my interns the
a seduction that's no crime

The Queen of Cherchez
So the lemon square
touch and sting me lime
bring out the sting
My sunshine
He took the bait
La Femme au-fait
Post date, 
 The ebb bees
miles and expressive smiles 
two lips stick like beeswax
The ebb of everlasting
land of the Nile

Her nest of romance the
"Les of the Mohicans"
He left quite a buzz
of her most desirable
words he narrates,
The honey-blush trees

Bees on his proposal knees down
The Queen's bees money

Money for nothing and your
checks for free our freedom
Dire Strait music to your shrine
Sunshine Gold free state
She donates her heart he awaits

Battling out her dreams at night
Like 100 degrees hottest light
Like shinning sting shrine
armor shield
Bees were coming to America
Oh say can you see by the
Dawn-Sting Night
armor truck stealing hearts

His overflow
His soul the magnitude
every heartbeat
extremity on the ebb of destruction
Became the reality of the world
On the edge of our sanity web rated

Taking a long devouring breath
Like it came at birth
Ripleys believe it or not
forget me not flowers bees
Love was true never to
be false eyelashes

He touched her skin
He goes deeply drawn in
Sting shrine all the envy of mine

Ebb of the darkness her virginity
like a novice
The sting buzzes shes the naughty novella
His sunrise spread with his pocket knife
That honey (Goddess) sun Italiano
The outskirts of the Positano Islands

Sting shrine like Valentine her Spa treatment

To be raised in the
Amazon Honeybee hands banana chips fly

Facebook take a look everyone is an open book
On her ebb of the Emmy multiplying
I hear the bees sexy seduction

Like the multiplicity
Geology is the Bees Queen hot Sting
Her impulses she tried to hold back
But went forward with her
desires of him
Impulses joined both of them
Twin Cities
Her draws whats inside
She was the drawback
Wanting her ringback
Honey eyes were set back
And I'll be back to slingback

Asteroid Ebb of her hub sexual
The ebb the end of fate  
Wicked impulses being

The wicked concert prose
The fragile sting moment
Like the smile increased
her face value
All body textures of virtue

What a pressure body point
Attuned to the sting shrine
The Monk the bees are alive
with the sound of
music modifying her sting Gods
Got reckless Moms whats the odds
Like a shock of eternal love, I'm sold

Toxicity facing our reality  
That's the jungle of publicity
Duplicity like the twin city
Both smiled bright yellow and black
Dress Bumblebee sexuality
To its authenticity

Her color of lips
build his sexuality
Beehive sanctuary
Playing the flute
The Maestro  flowed into
the ebb of masters golden kite

Her name is Brooklyn beehive of hair
Her narrow-minded brain got
Of craziness ebb of horrors sicker
Heres the bride of
Changed to better
brains of Einstein
That eternal love like no other place

They both stare face to face
Her ebb of the tip
of her bosom with Grace
We earned this day
Be happy I crown you
Queen each and
every day
On the ebb of seduction or darkness, we need more circuits to react to get more into the Godly light or be on the ebb of your seduction and fight a better education just see how far you can go
c 15h
Paint my porcelain skin
To look like steel.
This is my armor,
Fragile beneath
It’s metallic sheen.
Paint my face
With my blood
Like warpaint
In the form of adrenaline
coursing through my veins.
Forge my sword
With the splintered pieces
Of my dignity,
For my wit is sharp
And my pride is strong.
Heed my battle cry
The song of words once trapped in my throat.
I am a siren, a Spartan, a warrior for the silenced.
The blood
Running through my veins
Is toxic.
So bite me.
You’ve hardened me
And every silver bullet
you’ve lodged into my heart,
I’ve plucked out,
Enduring the pain
And built myself an armor
Out of your betrayal.

And You are not a Phoenix.
Your tears
Will not heal
the open wounds
you have caused
With your trifling talons.
abeille 2d
Mental illness not a romantic tale about a princess in a dark tower
The one who gets rescued by a knight in shining armor
In the story you might feel more like the huntsman
Who never sleeps in fear that something might pass him if he does
Or maybe you’re more like Sleeping Beauty minus the beauty and the prince
Who never stops sleeping but when she wakes she’s still exhausted
Maybe you’re the witch
Who fears other might take her only friend away so she locks them in a tower for eternity
Maybe you’re the heroes who can rescue everyone
Well everyone except themselves
Or perhaps you’re just a simple peasant, as most are
With no role to play in the story
“Would the author care if I were gone?”
It’s a question you ask yourself daily
This is the truth about mental illness
It’s not a fairytale that you get to romanticize
It’s reality that never ends
And it fucking sucks
- the Grimm Poet
pompeii runs through our veins,
hot with the taste of ash & decay.

some of us are fortunate enough to
become ruins; others are ruinous, sepulchers of epidemics, air-born, contagious. a disease that could make London a cemetery.

we dress ourselves up like relics, clothed
in silk and gold and gossamer, as if they could one day be armor. as if they could bring us safety. as if we deserve such things when everything we touch rusts.

it takes only twenty-two years for the
average person to realize they are a
weapon. that words are knives and actions are razor blades. every breath is a punch or kick, as if to remind the world that we
came into the world screaming—and we have never been silent since.

we are the Morrigans, the cursed women,
those whose destiny is entwined with death. we court death, invite her to our dinner table every night, let her sleep in the guest room, leave the doors and windows unlocked for her.

death, we realize as women forced to bear
the weight of the dead on our shoulders, never comes as a thief. she comes as a lover, smelling of lilac, a grin too white and too large to be human.

but we invite her in, because even death, regardless of form, makes for better company than the quiet dark.
inspired by the line: we are naught but rot and ruin.

— The End —