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Elioinai Oct 2014
Slithering around my organs, twisting in my chest,
Fire-breathing on my soul, in my mind it makes a nest,
Roses of faceted scales, glitter on its spine,
Intoxication like red wine, I can’t resist their shine,
I bite my tongue, hold back the words,
In dreams I might speak out, but smoke and steam have filled my throat,
I can’t hold back a shout.
Feb 4, 2012
Marina Morales Oct 2014
and it's empty and cold.
So a reflection, actually.
I send  you my love
I care for you so much and I am delicate with you.
but...
I am a screaming heart
being muffled and drained by indifference and the sound of bitter static
I love you madly
I want to hold you when you cry and make you *** and sigh..
yet I feel like a fool when I do this all
and I draw and I draw forever....
When there's no wool from you to keep me warm and no warm returns of my letters.
The inside of my chest is becoming hollow because I gave too much.
This is a mess, Sorry!
Lambert Mark Mj Sep 2014
Could you push me into the river
Make me soaking wet, and, sicker
Could you push my swing
But never let go, to make me forever cling

Could you push me into your limelight
Then remove hollow faces out of sight
Could you push my door
Let me see, at the end of this ocean is a shore

Could you push me out of my seat
Have me see a better view of the old creek
Could you push my words into this paper
Drive me down, to find out what is truly deeper

Let me lean on your star
Because I stopped pushing myself afar
Pull me in with gravity
Because I have no more vines of duty

                                
              
                                                       *-Push someone's swing before it gets rusted
CandidlySubtle Aug 2014
I’m squeezed like a lemon,
My feelings so sour,
The juice, so acidic,
Burning me within,
It leaves a hole in my stomach,
Expanding into a vacuum,
******* away at my mind,
As false memories of you,
Steal away my sanity.
Haruka Aug 2014
i am tired of building
my home in the arms
of strangers that vaguely
resemble your outline.
Irate Watcher Jul 2014
Tangled by reeds
in the trash-ridden bay
of sunny Acapulco,
I brush your hair.

Dried gel
builds under my nails
and satisfies me.

You dive with me
into the ocean of fire
to wash our hands.

My heart beats red;
Leaking, it soaks
your white playera

It hangs high and dry,
but will never wash clean.
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