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"slowdance" poems
picture this, o sons of judah: arctic shallows, a shellbeached leviathan cordially extending an invitation to this everfast slowdance of heart throb lust in the inkwell satisfaction of knowing you bleed india blue & bone china and the moths that got into the tent will swallow the naphtha in time; *there are parts of you that are never clean.* yeah isn’t that wonderful ? mark the few drops of tequila left & a heavy sunrise in your swankissed beechwood heart; *there are parts of you that will not be released.*
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Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 6:17 PM UTC
shameless enmity & shittim wood
I want you to rip the messy sutures from my stitched-up heart and I want to love you with my chest wide open. I want the icy air to whisper across my bared arteries and scoop the black from my lungs I want you to kiss me so hard blood runs down my teeth. I want to taste the salty crimson on my tongue and know I am still breathing, that I still have a pulse. I want your eyes to burn holes in my skin & the cauterized nerve endings to emit a single sharp scream I need your sweaty palms to take away the sting. I want you to wake me from this gray unending dream. I know meteorites always hit the sun or crash to earth, but I want our comet to blaze through the night sky for a few bright seconds before the freefall. I will ignore the craters you'll carve from my bones. I know I will end up lying in a hospital bed with skin grafts and bleeding bandages, but I want the rose-tinged words that will leak from my eyes like saline-tipped blades. I want to slowdance with cyanide. I want to tiptoe on a razor-littered sidewalk. I want to swim with sharks; I want to dip my hand in fire; I want a gradual descent from a cliff with a tattered parachute; I want to toss my heart into your freckled arms. I want your fingers around my neck before I realize it. I want you to destroy me. I want your smile to eat me alive.
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Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 7:04 PM UTC
it was always more about me than you
Let’s make this our night. Let’s kick our good habits and grow our bad ones in neat rows of dandelions and ponder what marks **** from flower. Let's fill a jar with memories and dash it against the ground when it's full so we can play with them once more. Let’s empty our brains like a register full of quarters chase them along the pavement and roll them into neat piles to trade for pennies. Let’s cut holes in our pockets and fill them with time until the last echo of a tick splits our emptied skulls and drains out the nothing. Let's rob a jeweler and give diamonds to the homeless. Their babbles are endless and they've earned something for that. Let's ink our pens with the clouds and write odes to the sea where they meet and watch them turn orange then red then purple then black then dissipate with wind. Let's read tea leaves and palms like books written by wise old men with wide smiles and wider minds. Let's blow out the city lights, dance with the stars, and apologize profusely for stepping on their toes. Let's wash our hands with acid and leave empty fingerprints on likewise glasses staining breathless lovers' heaving antipathy Let's play to lose and throw the pieces about the floor when our plan goes awry, smiling. Let's slowdance to anachronisms while the ether whispers around and between us and through us, until it settles in us. Let's watch the clouds from atop a sinking city and marvel at how the water's lovely this time of year. Let's fall in love and drown together in whichever order the universe decides. Let's make this our night It may be our last.
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Nov 22, 2010
Nov 22, 2010 at 3:17 PM UTC
For Pennies.
Let’s make this our night. Let’s kick our good habits and grow our bad ones in neat rows of dandelions and ponder what marks **** from flower. Let's fill a jar with memories and dash it against the ground when it's full so we can play with them once more. Let’s empty our brains like a register full of quarters chase them along the pavement and roll them into neat piles to trade for pennies. Let’s cut holes in our pockets and fill them with time until the last echo of a tick splits our emptied skulls and drains out the nothing. Let's rob a jeweler and give diamonds to the homeless. Their babbles are endless and they've earned something for that. Let's ink our pens with the clouds and write odes to the sea where they meet and watch them turn orange then red then purple then black then dissipate with wind. Let's read tea leaves and palms like books written by wise old men with wide smiles and wider minds. Let's blow out the city lights, dance with the stars, and apologize profusely for stepping on their toes. Let's wash our hands with acid and leave empty fingerprints on likewise glasses staining breathless lovers' heaving antipathy Let's play to lose and throw the pieces about the floor when our plan goes awry, smiling. Let's slowdance to anachronisms while the ether whispers around and between us and through us, until it settles in us. Let's watch the clouds from atop a sinking city and marvel at how the water's lovely this time of year. Let's fall in love and drown together in whichever order the universe decides. Let's make this our night It may be our last.
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Acetone I'm sorry I didn't quite know what to say when we were sitting in the backseat and your mind was driving you a million miles away, I'm sorry he broke your heart, how dare he take your smile apart? I know you're coated in pain, so I'll ask it to slowdance with my name: Just tell me where it hurts and I'll bandage your wounds with these words, I'll bury all your rage in my hearse where my bones will one day decay. And I pray no one else will ever rip you apart because I love you and watching you hurt is the hardest part. - Crimsyy A/N: Oddly timed updates but that's because school has began (: Please vote and comment what you think of this poem or any constructive opinions...thankyou for reading!♡
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Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 7:41 AM UTC
Quadrāgintā Ūnus
The truth about me is that my teeth need to be fixed but I am too scared of the dentist. Something about the whiteness of a clinic and the smell of a previous patient's tongue, makes me want to wait for dentures. I am the kind of person, you could bully and make cry, to help yourself fit in. Somewhere between society's rights and wrongs, I paint my eyes too dark, struggle to smile in photographs and constantly worry about getting ***** the next time I leave my house. The truth about me is that I am paranoid that everyone is lying to me, that I am a potential alcoholic and my favorite hobby, is a Russian roulette of self destruct. I do not understand best friends, brown rice, or how one cannot shut up about how much weight they need to lose. The truth about me is that I don't know how to say "I love you" and mean it. That every time I try to build a home, it breaks. I am a breezy sunrise, reeking of bad decisions, sad memories with happy endings. The truth is, I will waltz into your life and make your skin tingle with soft kisses. I will, break bottles, kiss your ear, make you cry, make you laugh, run away, hike mountains, **** with your head and slowdance with you, till we mix like oil paints, smiling, and swaying till nothing at all, exists except our whispers, and the blue-purple air that surrounds us. Love. I am happiness, chaos and nature and the truth about me, is that I am not going to stay but I promise you, I will be unforgettable.
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Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 8:28 PM UTC
Happy girl.
remember when we would slowdance beneath indifferent stars when you weren't backstroking through my blood? yea, me neither. but that image sure hangs pretty in a frame, right? me, so many questions. as restless as unbroken bathroom mirrors. I don't know where this is leading. there are threads between all that, I promise.
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May 27, 2021
May 27, 2021 at 11:18 PM UTC
Untitled