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"blacklight" poems
Coming from the shadows a six armed samurai, Followed closely by glowstick wielding neon ninji, Grips of *** swigging pirates swing from the rafters, Swallowed alive by blacklight monsters, Gangs of ***** smoking gurus, Armed to the teeth with translucent didgeridoos, Monks parade in swirling vestments, Whilst the shaman trip in lotus testament, Gods transfixed by blood tear beauty,, As humanity’s heroes slay bejeweled dragons, The king with two faces is beheaded, By his charlatans, harlequins, fools and jesters, Chaotic, prophetic killers run amok, The order of lunatics chant as the time is struck, A battle royale then follows, As robots and aliens envelope, Brilliant beams and whirring mechanics, Clash with steel, rock, bone and sticks, Screams from the heads of the thieves, As their brains are devoured by zombies
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Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:44 PM UTC
COOL
To soak up the dirt is to soak up the stories. My story is grime pushed into the cracks in the concrete From all the crusty hobos and sweat-sheened showgirls. My story is glitter from all the strippers and their grinning patrons, and ***** spilled liquor, and ***** from those who have sought a cure. I am nourished by pain, and also rubber from the wheels of souped-up sports cars Driven by men with chasmic souls. The oil from a billion french fries Palliates the sting of alcohol upon my fractured, ***** skin. The filth of the cigarettes and of the **** smoke, Dank in the air, and heavy, slathers on another coat. I see all things and I hear all things and I know all things. I can see up your skirt right now, you precious little object, As you flee the casino like a gull from a shark’s open jaws. Your nightmare is right behind you, and he’s starving. His humanity has been chewed up by the worms of his rancor, And all that remains is an animal with hot blood on his brain. In the alleyway I hear the pop and crack as stiletto gives way to concrete And bone gives way to undue stress. His smile is unhinged as Stifled screams and muffled gunshot atomize in the black air. A decade later, the mops of sad janitors cut through like razors, Making clean spots more unsightly than the ocean of grunge. Surreptitious blood spatters, long since scrubbed Still glint under blacklight. The chalk outlines have absorbed Into my unholy black skin, and though I was drunk on your blood, I still remember cradling you as you died.
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Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 1:57 AM UTC
Black Hole
To soak up the dirt is to soak up the stories. My story is grime pushed into the cracks in the concrete From all the crusty hobos and sweat-sheened showgirls. My story is glitter from all the strippers and their grinning patrons, and ***** spilled liquor, and ***** from those who have sought a cure. I am nourished by pain, and also rubber from the wheels of souped-up sports cars Driven by men with chasmic souls. The oil from a billion french fries Palliates the sting of alcohol upon my fractured, ***** skin. The filth of the cigarettes and of the **** smoke, Dank in the air, and heavy, slathers on another coat. I see all things and I hear all things and I know all things. I can see up your skirt right now, you precious little object, As you flee the casino like a gull from a shark’s open jaws. Your nightmare is right behind you, and he’s starving. His humanity has been chewed up by the worms of his rancor, And all that remains is an animal with hot blood on his brain. In the alleyway I hear the pop and crack as stiletto gives way to concrete And bone gives way to undue stress. His smile is unhinged as Stifled screams and muffled gunshot atomize in the black air. A decade later, the mops of sad janitors cut through like razors, Making clean spots more unsightly than the ocean of grunge. Surreptitious blood spatters, long since scrubbed Still glint under blacklight. The chalk outlines have absorbed Into my unholy black skin, and though I was drunk on your blood, I still remember cradling you as you died.
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25
Through purple-greyish smoke billowed from lips both mine and yours, our eyes glazed, blacklight seen reflecting on our silver ores. Dark purple painted walls with red designs keep calm the folks on leather couches billowing with eyes like silver ores. Oh you and I, the strangers here, all have our many reasons, some came with them, some made them here, eyes glazed like silver ores. An Artificial Reason calms our minds in this Mad Season, crucified on G-clef staff, eyes glazed like silver ores. This sanctuary, whispered 'round, and found through word of mouth, somewhere, we've all forgotten in the glaze of silver ores. Our therapy, if long or short, time counted by the songs, recovery is measured by the glaze of silver ores. As one leaves so another comes, replacing on the couch, the glaze of one with glaze of other's eyes like silver ores. (C)2013, Christos Rigakos
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Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 6:13 PM UTC
Silver Ores
Α♥Ω GNOSIS, my friends, is alive and well, corrupting the hearts of the masses. They fashion a fable to fit their need until their crisis passes. An idol from here and a text from there – just a little dabble do… for a do-it-yourself epiphany as the counterfeit passes through. They lose themselves in names and mantras, thinking they’re mining gold – while the god of this world enhances the shine of spiritual lies retold. So get out your old Santana records, pass the **** to the left. Listen to Jimi and Marley and worse; it will leave your soul bereft. It’s the same old trip – the first century has seen all of it come and go: such transcendent explosions of heresy are worth less than the price of the show. In the local body of Iesous Moshiach our pastor has faithfully showed us: nonsensical notions of Gnostic obnoxiousness fail to enlighten – but load us with half-truths and fantasies, cosmic conspiracies, spiritually false revelation; which turn on the blacklight and dazzle the mind but maroon you in dark desolation. So I’d like to prepare you for several short poems exploring the way of the Gnostics. Though I love Elaine Pagels and Demian‘s Hesse, they fail to provide diagnostics…
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Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
Gnoxious Gnostic Gnonsense
chilly morning wind awakens my skin her mystical electric blue cat dances in the daylight me green fox spirit yogas on the hill dilly-dallying licking air droplets dreaming of a sacred light, the mirror meadow is a sphere of reflection, A rasta moose and a few gnostic bunnies sit in a drum circle hashing and workin out a rhythm for the dawn.... Bebop bear bares it's soul in the lapis lake, meditating on his thankful Mother Nature and her blacklight berry provisions, Technicolor roses nuzzle together by the water, velvet vines hug willow trees created of patched fabric as prink energy embraces the wise tai-chi eagles atop the ruby mountains. Serene gardens brush away dirt blankets fire flowers, light flowers lilac compassion illuminate the shade autumn leaves of time flutter toward sky horizons ...... watercolored wickiups and spray-paint thipis rest closeby as the timeline continues to be sewn.
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Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 9:40 AM UTC
Day-wake on Dimension Emerald Pyramid 27a.5-L
Want you please speak to me in the 60's In far out psychedelic rhymes Take a ride beside the blacklight On the Velvet Underground Wake me up with the Strawberry Alarm Clock Serving incense and peppermints in bed Fixing a hole where the rain gets in As the 60's flood my head Walk with me through Asbury With a flower child in hand Listening to the groovy tunes Of Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band Hang out with the hippies Before Monterey goes pop As they fly like butterflies At the moment the acid drops Want you please speak to me in the 60's In the innocence of peace and love Back then we all had our share But is there ever really enough?
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Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 9:31 PM UTC
Speak to me in the 60's
Be the barcode on my bra strap so maybe I can finally be sellable skinny. Be my relationship goal, the text to check outside my door, the 5k, 140 character post about a teenage dream ****** through low brightness screens. Be the slam poet screaming whiny, new written love songs on the shareable Facebook post. And maybe I’m just as bad, but at least I recognize when my eyes fall numb from staring at self-expression turned self-obsession. Maybe it’s Jack talking back through my shot glass or maybe it’s the blacklight absorbed into my skin. Or maybe it’s a girl in a “vintage” dress just sizing out bigger than the edges already cut out for her. Maybe it’s me bending backwards over chivalry and **** coming back from the 90’s. Don’t blame me for biting into the media sandwich that is magazines and the indecision of being too clingy if I just freakin’ called you. Cause picking up the phone is a lot more risky than the kissy-face emoji at the end of a message. Don’t blame me for consuming tissue paper lies designed to target my own vulnerability, or my lack of understanding the truth because all everyone has ever told me is just a step in the manipulation blueprint to get what they want, or just get me to bed. I only trust old photographs, things I wrote down when I couldn’t sleep, my mom, and the dirt I used to bury my own reflection. Be the 50% off on my receipt just so I know I got something off. Be the nicotine in my cigarette, the Blink 182 voice inside my head, the joints that hold me up where I stand, and maybe I’ll finally know who I am.
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Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
2014
Be the barcode on my bra strap so maybe I can finally be sellable skinny. Be my relationship goal, the text to check outside my door, the 5k, 140 character post about a teenage dream ****** through low brightness screens. Be the slam poet screaming whiny, new written love songs on the shareable Facebook post. And maybe I’m just as bad, but at least I recognize when my eyes fall numb from staring at self-expression turned self-obsession. Maybe it’s Jack talking back through my shot glass or maybe it’s the blacklight absorbed into my skin. Or maybe it’s a girl in a “vintage” dress just sizing out bigger than the edges already cut out for her. Maybe it’s me bending backwards over chivalry and **** coming back from the 90’s. Don’t blame me for biting into the media sandwich that is magazines and the indecision of being too clingy if I just freakin’ called you. Cause picking up the phone is a lot more risky than the kissy-face emoji at the end of a message. Don’t blame me for consuming tissue paper lies designed to target my own vulnerability, or my lack of understanding the truth because all everyone has ever told me is just a step in the manipulation blueprint to get what they want, or just get me to bed. I only trust old photographs, things I wrote down when I couldn’t sleep, my mom, and the dirt I used to bury my own reflection. Be the 50% off on my receipt just so I know I got something off. Be the nicotine in my cigarette, the Blink 182 voice inside my head, the joints that hold me up where I stand, and maybe I’ll finally know who I am.
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25
Conflated the scriven entangled Stygian Ink burns moonlight scribes Death casket nymphotic neurotoxin Flesh bites tender spots bruised Inhale emerald fire shotgun lungs Blacklight succubus consume
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Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 5:03 PM UTC
Consume
Blacklight shines across the hollow forest As I stumble along the beaten path Our fellowship slowly diminishes by the hour As the night hunts its tender prey Emotion erupts like a youthful river Outpouring among our humble tribe Drowning all that wade across its mighty shores Slaughtering all that lay in its path As darkness falls and dawn prevails Our battle scars begin to fade As our noble wounds must be concealed To prevent our modest world's dismay
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Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 4:00 PM UTC
Twilight Turmoil
woke up next to you, feeling like a ice pop kissed your vermilion border, gave you my half of the sheets you whispered in my ear, "no, i want you to be warm" grabbed your jacket and placed it on my frame youre so sweet like 2 stevia packets emptied onto a tongue lemons and oranges couldnt be squeezed as good as your huggies that one night, in my room, under the blacklight my jokes were corny but i saw that paperwhite smile glow along with your hippie acid tripping mushroom posters remember when we ate out those few times it made me happy when you enjoyed your food i liked it when you enjoyed anything those sparkling eyes your face carried always sunk me in deep like an anchor approaching the ocean floor on top of hills that are really steep when you were inside of me, yeah yeah at first it hurt then it progressed like my grades in junior high but id like to not see you go now double negative,i cant not see you anymore it felt right, you felt left, so you left just like the leaves depart from december 21st branches you should be back soon and i'll wait when you return, could we remake a copy of our last copulation? in the backseat of your car or mine if i eventually get one in your bed or even my own behind the open house party next to that tree me on top or you on top of me link your pinky to my pinky and promise that youll stay just a little longer so we can grow for a bit so we can be cacoons and become butterflies together you can be high all the time, in the sky i prefer
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Sep 25, 2011
Sep 25, 2011 at 9:55 PM UTC
copulation
woke up next to you, feeling like a ice pop kissed your vermilion border, gave you my half of the sheets you whispered in my ear, "no, i want you to be warm" grabbed your jacket and placed it on my frame youre so sweet like 2 stevia packets emptied onto a tongue lemons and oranges couldnt be squeezed as good as your huggies that one night, in my room, under the blacklight my jokes were corny but i saw that paperwhite smile glow along with your hippie acid tripping mushroom posters remember when we ate out those few times it made me happy when you enjoyed your food i liked it when you enjoyed anything those sparkling eyes your face carried always sunk me in deep like an anchor approaching the ocean floor on top of hills that are really steep when you were inside of me, yeah yeah at first it hurt then it progressed like my grades in junior high but id like to not see you go now double negative,i cant not see you anymore it felt right, you felt left, so you left just like the leaves depart from december 21st branches you should be back soon and i'll wait when you return, could we remake a copy of our last copulation? in the backseat of your car or mine if i eventually get one in your bed or even my own behind the open house party next to that tree me on top or you on top of me link your pinky to my pinky and promise that youll stay just a little longer so we can grow for a bit so we can be cacoons and become butterflies together you can be high all the time, in the sky i prefer
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30
filthy girl why would anyone ever love you? there are *** stains on your sheets just like the remnants nestled in your hair i do not understand why your eyes still well up when he leaves right after why haven't you realized that he doesn't love you? yes, you are pretty and you can fool them all in the daylight he sees you with your friends and you think that he admires you just like everyone else does you pretty, pretty girl pure as the snow and you think you have fooled him so you smile with your teeth so pearly white. but guess what? your stains are clearly visible under the blacklight, and he will always know
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Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 12:09 AM UTC
under the blacklight
locking the door behind me, my cold blood making the transition from blue to red, your smile shooting scorching rays at my tundra of a soul -- violet. your tawny skin stretched over your tense jaw, illuminated by the blacklight moon -- violet. my whole body had been blue for months without your touch, but that night, your hot fingers, touched me red and it swirled with the blue -- violet. the sky was a not-quite-black blue (i think i was still bruised, too) but i wore rose-colored glasses and it all was violet. the color of magic is the conjunction of hot and cold -- violet.
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Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
violet (the only memory that still pinches my vocal cords)
woke up next to you, feeling like a ice pop softly bit your vermilion border, gave you my half of the sheets you whispered in my ear, "no, i want you to be warm" grabbed your linen coat and placed it on my medium frame youre so sweet like 2 stevia packets emptied onto a naked tongue lemons and oranges couldnt be squeezed as good as your hugs that one night, in my room, under the blacklight my jokes were corny but i saw that paperwhite smile glow along with your hippie acid tripping mushroom posters remember when we ate out those few times it made me happy when you enjoyed your food i liked it when you enjoyed anything those sparkling eyes your face carried always sunk me in deep like an anchor approaching the ocean floor on top of hills that are really steep when you were inside of me, yeah yeah at first it hurt then it progressed like my grades in junior high but id like to not see you go now double negative,i cant not see you anymore it felt right, you felt left, so you left just like the leaves depart from december 21st branches you should be back soon and i'll wait when you return, could we remake a copy of our last copulation? in the backseat of your car or mine if i eventually get one in your bed or even my own behind the open house party next to that tree me on top or you on top of me link your pinky to my pinky and promise that youll stay just a little longer so we can grow for a bit so we can be cacoons and become butterflies together you can be high all the time, in the sky i prefer
0
Feb 12, 2011
Feb 12, 2011 at 4:08 PM UTC
fiction man
woke up next to you, feeling like a ice pop softly bit your vermilion border, gave you my half of the sheets you whispered in my ear, "no, i want you to be warm" grabbed your linen coat and placed it on my medium frame youre so sweet like 2 stevia packets emptied onto a naked tongue lemons and oranges couldnt be squeezed as good as your hugs that one night, in my room, under the blacklight my jokes were corny but i saw that paperwhite smile glow along with your hippie acid tripping mushroom posters remember when we ate out those few times it made me happy when you enjoyed your food i liked it when you enjoyed anything those sparkling eyes your face carried always sunk me in deep like an anchor approaching the ocean floor on top of hills that are really steep when you were inside of me, yeah yeah at first it hurt then it progressed like my grades in junior high but id like to not see you go now double negative,i cant not see you anymore it felt right, you felt left, so you left just like the leaves depart from december 21st branches you should be back soon and i'll wait when you return, could we remake a copy of our last copulation? in the backseat of your car or mine if i eventually get one in your bed or even my own behind the open house party next to that tree me on top or you on top of me link your pinky to my pinky and promise that youll stay just a little longer so we can grow for a bit so we can be cacoons and become butterflies together you can be high all the time, in the sky i prefer
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30
#*Dedicated to the agitators of Oregon. (We all want you to secede, baby !*) Let it BURN while you feel the TRUMP. I hope Soros pays you well for your efforts. Here's my one-man backlash to the whacked-out blacklight of the whitelash blackout. So don't try to whitewash the knockout, blockheads. ¡ JUST SAY NO to one-world GLOBALISM !
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Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 12:39 PM UTC
Poems in Rabid Secession
never was or in between almost and here on paths of worn leather and jeans left in the corners standing almost on their own with bass drums from hell and guitars from heaven lightning away we went to together a dream a wondered place of blacklight and innocence we really never had or tasted sweet like in a rush to maturity we ran on all fours drooling about doors and Zeppelin and emerged kind of. Ten Years After.
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Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 5:57 AM UTC
to
Watch us roll down a quiet ocean road The night was only punctuated by looking at the moon It was upside an upside down crescent Waxing in the black You were right beside me Wrapped around my arm like a spider clutching to her eggs Your kiss beneath my ear Brought me the peace of an oak tree You put up guidlines As you lie naked in the light of a red Astro Lamp I remeber Your red neon eyes pulling at my pants At the skin of my neck You brought blood to boil in my head I watched how sixteen billion nerve endings Collided inside your universe The song of a thousand red blood vessels Played in our ears Your blacklight mentality kept me stumped Up all day and night You thought it was cool to ride the motorcycle next to the ocean I could hear your words wisp around my ears As we rode Your arms clinging warm against my t-shirt Pressing your lips against my neck And returning your gaze to the ominous ocean Spread out in the beautiful night Rocks rise up Twenty feet beneath us In the mouth of the ocean These rocks they call the demon's teeth The sea gaping its maw And laughing at us as we speed by Your candy-cane eyes Wrapped your arms tighter than everything Thunderstorms Blundered to the east You yelled out to me between the black void "On nights like tonight You always  make me feel like An actress"
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Dec 30, 2011
Dec 30, 2011 at 2:46 AM UTC
Crystillian X Eight Ball (after i lifted the key for your dad's indian)
Licorice veins and pancake hands. You've got a universe where your brain should be and a feather for a heart. Your love is like a mountain range, your love is like a crashing wave. I say, "Oh, please ,can we have a wrap-around porch? And a balcony to kiss you on? And a swing to watch you grow old on?" And you say, "In time, darling." And I say, "But I want so badly for it to be now." We drive until our eyes go blurry and I pick you flowers on the side of the road. I put them in your hair, like a crown, and tell you you're the king of the forest, only the forest is inside of me; but I don't tell you that part. We make love in a truck stop bathroom and I tell you that if there is an after life I want to spend it with you. I burn your birthday breakfast (and lunch and dinner), but you kiss my eyelashes and assure me that take-out is fine. You write me short stories on butterfly wings and I whisper 'I love you' through my fingertips. We go to the moon one night and meet God, he tells us we are right for not believing. I ask you to marry me somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle, you tell me yes on one condition: I stop trying to change the way I view the world. If we were younger, I would throw a baseball through your window and ride my bike across your lawn. If you put me under a blacklight, you'd see nothing but your fingertips. I want to bake you apple pie-or blueberry, if you prefer. A garden in the backyard, full of sunflowers for your mother and lotuses for mine. Chocolate chip pancakes with a side of memories for breakfast, and chocolate milk to drink. We can fall asleep and travel the world. Tell me about your dreams, the good and the bad. How many dogs is too many dogs? I want to melt into you.
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Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 1:31 AM UTC
Only In Dreams
Licorice veins and pancake hands. You've got a universe where your brain should be and a feather for a heart. Your love is like a mountain range, your love is like a crashing wave. I say, "Oh, please ,can we have a wrap-around porch? And a balcony to kiss you on? And a swing to watch you grow old on?" And you say, "In time, darling." And I say, "But I want so badly for it to be now." We drive until our eyes go blurry and I pick you flowers on the side of the road. I put them in your hair, like a crown, and tell you you're the king of the forest, only the forest is inside of me; but I don't tell you that part. We make love in a truck stop bathroom and I tell you that if there is an after life I want to spend it with you. I burn your birthday breakfast (and lunch and dinner), but you kiss my eyelashes and assure me that take-out is fine. You write me short stories on butterfly wings and I whisper 'I love you' through my fingertips. We go to the moon one night and meet God, he tells us we are right for not believing. I ask you to marry me somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle, you tell me yes on one condition: I stop trying to change the way I view the world. If we were younger, I would throw a baseball through your window and ride my bike across your lawn. If you put me under a blacklight, you'd see nothing but your fingertips. I want to bake you apple pie-or blueberry, if you prefer. A garden in the backyard, full of sunflowers for your mother and lotuses for mine. Chocolate chip pancakes with a side of memories for breakfast, and chocolate milk to drink. We can fall asleep and travel the world. Tell me about your dreams, the good and the bad. How many dogs is too many dogs? I want to melt into you.
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1
as the blacklight morning eats away at god's empty heaven angel's cry tears of blood and shed their hair - gold as the sun at the midday hour diamonds cut out the throats of lovers they bleed the crimson rage oozes, and drips in thick, blobs of terror heaven waits for hell to freeze over and the devil welcomes me home and all was the same as if the world had held its breath for me
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Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 6:26 AM UTC
blood diamond
with bones on fire and eyes like haze i'll remember you, Giza in my stomach's pit and your calligraphy present beneath blacklight, forever- i've husked to be your Tut's tomb. you'll remember how you taunted cumulus clouds to the edge of the earth and, on your three-hundred, sixty-fifth day of sunlight, never forget to miss how it cleansed your throat when you inahled. i'll always remember the places i marked you mine with torment, you'll only ever remember when you go to the river and it's low. nostalgia will be the bookkeeper for every dew-drop and sink-trip, the perfect imprints of my thumbs on your chrome; i hope you live a life of love, haunted by every path and groove and maze of the dunes in your dreams, and know i'll be buckling someone else's boots for our hike through fog and rain and it took me forever to stop wishing it was you.
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Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 2:00 PM UTC
honesty pt II
You are a flower that blooms in the rain; Your smile is the medicine to all my pain. When I hold your hands my heart throbs, A simple gaze from your hazel eyes And all my thoughts fade into blind love. Blacklight butterflies well up deep within; Heartache and heartbreak lay in wait for The moment when these feelings we share die But I simply do not care, so c’mon baby and Let's pretend this flame will last forever. Don't be scared of the hurt: oh it feels so good, Blacklight butterflies fly into the fires of a beautiful tragedy; let's keep on pretending this Moment will be more than just temporary. Nothing more than a bittersweet memory.
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Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 1:20 PM UTC
Black Lights
I traded in what could have been For a long line of maybe laters and sheets Stained to the brim With only what a blacklight would love to find Either blood from my heart or from the hearts Of all the dumb fools before me
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Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 12:28 AM UTC
A Lady Would Know Better
Oil Coal Burning soul Take me through A field so bright Almost red As firelight If our feet burn I won't be Without a smile A silly yearn For steps untamed A head so light Helium maimed Delight Delight My head so bright Torn apart By candlelight Lamplighter Lamplighter I'd rather have a campfire Swooning Under this broken moon Nail and hammer and... Candlelight Lamplight Campfire Field bright Little love From dawn To night I purge this Surge of Blacklight blood In hopes To see With unity
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Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 12:10 AM UTC
Light
tell me who your father is, or who he was, who you know him to be I want to know even the ugliest parts of you the parts that screech in your ears when you say them, and you can't block it out with headphones how when old ideas blasted, courseless you asked to speak to the girl who walked like she had elegies written on her legs tell me about your home, she demands how the walls don't know you yet and the roof is still a stranger to your shouts the painful truths that split ice in your echoes, whose spirits you conjure with a blacklight, or in other words, hell how when odd interpretations become compatible to your angles you ****** the same girl to tell her she was right, she was right about it all -c.j.
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Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 2:06 AM UTC
je veux savoir
Beneath you, I glow Body illuminated Ultraviolet Moonlit An incandescent silhouette I radiate for you
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Mar 28, 2025
Mar 28, 2025 at 11:24 PM UTC
Blacklight