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Yours et cetera Jul 2014
His affection rushes wickedly,
Like pestilence, through my veins
The lilts of his venomous voice
Sending my heart into a frenzy

But he vanishes into oblivion
As quickly as he came
And I am expected to implore,
To pander, and ******

Lest I lose the chance of reunion;
The sliver of good fortune
One that promises idyllic nights,
Iridescent moonbeams on skin

That's how my parents started
The young days teeming with hope
Which soon shriveled into bitterness
And vacuous, dejected nights

With one glance, I see my folly
This caricature of love
This twisted travesty to life
I jettison the nonsense and bid goodnight
Yours et cetera May 2014
Your words on my palm
As I succumb to your spell.
"Let the pain fester"
This poem *****. But so does love.
Yours et cetera Apr 2014
He then caverned out
The bright beacon my heart was
I bled profusely
What it was like in the end.
Yours et cetera Apr 2014
Did you know, darling?
You were my one sustenance
You left, I withered
I remember talking to him, deep into the night. His voice is so beautiful, every syllable he whispered still resonate with me.
Yours et cetera Apr 2014
Loneliness is pages splayed across the bed
It is clutching the empty space beside me
Writhing in agony, knowing very well
You're not there

Loneliness is having my blood run cold,
My feet solidly planted to the ground
Every time I hear the unfamiliar ring
Of my (prosaic) name

Loneliness is basking in the sweet but transient
Moments of companionship, when your supple
Lips brush mine (and sparks flit down my back)
Knowing they will soon be relics

Loneliness is donning heavy, splotched clothes
Sodden from last night's tears and broken memories
It is having your mind plagued with yesterday
*Loneliness decays your today
Yours et cetera Apr 2014
I love your languorous way of speaking
Like you are flirting with the ghosts
Of a bygone lifetime

I love the wistful gleam in your eyes
When you whisper lecherous secrets
Into the crook of my neck

I love the way your tears never seem to
Leave the velvety and fragile surface
Of your cherubic face

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I have walked on these thorn-laden grounds
Long enough to know that the forlorn,
The vacuous, the shattered, the decrepit
Never receive the exaltation they deserve

But your radiant, ivory skin is nonpareil
Your eulogies the most poetic
Your macabre dreams sing to me
And coldly stir me in my slumber

You are a true testament to the idea that
All things broken, all things bad are beautiful
The miserable azure in your eyes are merely a
Sliver to the beautiful tragedy you harbour
Yours et cetera Apr 2014
Here I am, penning verses that paint vibrant images
Expressing my yearning through ostentatious displays
But do these efforts impinge upon -- even in the slightest --
The twisted fate we have been endowed?
*I do not like to think this is all for naught
Feeling ambivalent about this guy. Distance between us seems to expand endlessly.
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