"lusus" poems
From the usual desires within a store
From the potato chips that don't call for you but still eat
From the shredded cheese that only seems delectable at
2:00 am
There is nothing in this world we wouldn't crave
For we are the ones who have slept through sleepless nights
For we that have been addicted to the nectar that is known as
coffee
And For we that has been blessed with
Lusus Naturae
But remember, That even if we were blessed.
The ill will wish for us
And we shall respond
as it is not our duty to do so
Instead, it is just the cravings that bond our blessings
and that we are one in the twilight
Oct 30, 2020
Oct 30, 2020 at 10:09 AM UTC
I am in a deep dark hole--
An asylum of my mind.
It's better to be locked in a room
Where no damage can be done,
Where everyone treats me as who they perceive me to be--
A ****** lunatic.
I know this isn't my rightful place,
I know I sound so childish and
Narcissistic
To say these things,
But if there is no escape from your pain,
What a better place to reside?
I scream and scream for hours
In this nightmarish dream,
Without the knowledge of the darkest secrets
Hiding in the mist of all this black.
All the while the prince tries to rescue me.
I guess it's unclear if I
Let myself be trapped or if
You have trapped me in my own
Sick state of existence.
I long for the prince's arms to be around me.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 8:51 PM UTC
collapse the husk of sin with the
lucid dirt caked better and more.
all about your cascade. and bleached
serenity stiffly decaying. a grave calm
in the ******* of untold lovers. to be
cadaverous an apathetic magic.
seems it to me the sky was blue but
cracked melody of ruffled gray
hips sprawled exactly on its
electric lips to tickle precisely the accurate
giggle of rainbow fuzz. hush now delicious
day and break staggeringly on the luscious nightmare.
A lusus naturae said "why not dip the razors in your
purity to slit the rhythmic shudders
of your
vermilion music. but anon hither it doth
come and merry it will slander with the clouds?"
slither correctly it wAS in the ponds of streelight ******
begging white palpations to the weak skin.
but flustered in wickedly; in her still column
of hot ice. i loved only her.
Jul 5, 2010
Jul 5, 2010 at 4:11 PM UTC
Dear, I haven't told you
the many times I've wished
to capture the stars above
to have something in my hands
that twinkle more than your eyes do
For I was blinded,
and I wanted to forget.
To forget how you lit up every
piece inside of me
and left with an agonizing
heat that started a fire in my lungs
I tried to breathe you out
but your entirety has consumed
whatever monsters I had.
Now, you’ve replaced all of them – the monsters.
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 2:24 PM UTC