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Noah Martin May 2016
I'm not sure what they said
what is done really messes with my head
Communicating with butterflies always ends with them in your stomach
then we age and wonder why we're aneamic

just say yes or no
there is no pain in rejecting a question
there is only pain in a lack of communication
as messing with the senses creates an awful sensation
so just stop ******* around
and say what you mean

Anxiety, depression, migraines, mysteria
they never make much sense
now i know this isn't in your criteria
but just be honest
be blunt
it will end all pain
I may be ambitious
you may be delicious
but miscommunication is disatrious
Medusa May 2018
all is warm and one
you are here in my mynde,
where I keep the holy relics
all along the martyrs' trail

****** footprints less than
walking on your spirit hands
so skip, dance, you martyrs

you signed on for this: mysterium mysteria majestic
now you are here, there is no turning back,
you ate the knossos bread, you drank the wine
you are tainted by ancient perfection

You are one with the Golden Age
You can no longer be less than you are

welcome, welcome, rose petals at your feet
next harvest, perhaps you will be our sacrifice

but for now, live in thys moment
become what you know you might be

so many to cheer your life as it drains away in dust
revered, beloved, nothing less than a God
you are to me, save the crops for another year
become the bread between our teeth

grind me like corn beneath your hips tonight
that moon demands a sacrifice, but first
you are the golden god of our dreams
we need you, trust your blood

singing like erinyes at your heels
singing helah helah helah
as you walk the white dust of the path
The path that only Iphegenia knows

we love you
we love you
selah, love, selah

we would die for you
will you die for us?
The woman he saw from his childhood often,
He pondered—
She is not even fair and beauty—
When did his heart become so fragile and soften?

Was it her silence, deep as the ocean,
Or the way she was unbothered
By what the world might think of her life and motion?

When did I start to observe her so?
I should condemn my heart before it goes too far.
I’ve witnessed every phase she’s been through,
Watched the life she walked, in joy and scar.

Some claim that love means sharing the good and bad,
But it’s hard when I think of pulling her into my worst and sad.
I’d be glad if she got a life much better—
But I fear, what if I’m wrong and regret it later?

Enough—this inner battle must now settle.
I’ve decided to take her hand in mine
And get over this heart’s restless saddle.

I went to her
And whispered in a gentle manner,
"I wish for your heart—
Give me a chance to heal your broken part."

Blushing a little,
She answered:
"You really took your time a lot.
Don’t you think you deserve a penance
For all the days we spent apart?"

I cracked a laugh
To ease my nerves—
She really doesn’t know
How fast my heart beats.
It’s a mysteria, I don’t deserve.

She chirped,
"I have a request to tell—
Please hear me once, and hear me well."
I replied,
"I am yours, as you are mine.
Don’t hesitate—just tell your mind."

She continued:
"I want to make memories with you—by
Walking down a narrow aisle,
Getting married before the ones
Who gave us birth—and the One who sent us here.
Not just making pictures with those
Who can’t decide whether to forget or forgive,
Or those who never learned ----------
---- How to live or let live.

I want to leave an impression of each moment in this world,
With you—walking along.
I never cared who doesn't get along.
I don’t want castles or money bills—
Let’s live the rest of our lives in a little cottage down the valley and hills,
With nature and our pet Dolly—
Simple feasts now and then with friends.
And I’ll be so happy.

I know you have many dreams to pursue—
I’ll support them, even if it costs a few.
I know it’s hard for you to open up sometimes,
But I’ll be there—for all your climbs."

I was astonished by her speech—
She looked puzzled, unsure how I’d react.
So, I gave her a peck on the forehead,
To let her know—
She’s not getting away from me.
Never ever.

Now I know why it happened to my heart...
Indeed, she is not fair and beauty.
She is beyond that—
She is my beautiful fairy.
Carlo C Gomez Feb 2020
She doesn't wear sunglasses
to be hot or cool

She doesn't wear them
as a fashion statement

She doesn't even wear them
while in the throes of mysteria

She simply wears them
to hide the bruises

— The End —