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Ayesha Jul 2021
Flowers fight flowers
To aridity
In my chest
Such is a penance
Must paid
For your distant benevolence

A liveliness so ecstatic
It slays and slays
All bits
Of melancholy peace
I’ve known
Lust you,

I lust you to war
Lust you, I lust you on
Nothing purer dare I claim
Lest the Sirens
Whirling
Within your gaze
Question the chastity
I have so well known

There is a desolation
Beneath this devouring tide
And you do not get me
You do not understand
I have always
Loved bleakness
Have always loved
A piece or two
Of you

And here
Bees fight bees
And the carnage
Weaves you a golden dirge
Soft as satin and softer still
Will you not hear—
Will you not?

I sink and sink
with the fair maidens
Who lured me to stillness
And not a note
Not a tune stirs its gentle wings

Your mute Muses
They know not a taste
Of hues
And I lure myself
Into you
Still

How awfully beautiful
Is our dance
How bleak—
29/06/2021
Raven Feels Jun 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, this is the reason I write;>


dark rainbow rays mirrored on a ferris wheel
a getaway car in an edged escape to night steal

neon lights shimmering to hit the blind
whisper the whistles for an old memory on kind

like music blasting from ages of dreamt youth
sirens delight a heaven to the soothe

instrumental of the better sometimes wilder
violins haven hearts of lost on minder

crowds beat in one
rockstar of a blast concert as if none

sweat painted down the back
shivering sensations never seem to black

a run for life from the poison killing attach
even when the loneliest matters or not without a match

heard before my days known in my mercury
just uranused with a flaw abroad the mild century

is it for a regret?
to keep this mere on an impossible met

yellow on the head
better hidden not said?

a smoking pulse on a midnight walk to anger
hair torn feet split on a single dancer

hell of a heartbreak on rhymes
driving on blades on knives

upon screams liberate a burning love rosed
rare nostalgia again miracled an incredulous indie overdosed


                                                                                  ------ravenfeels
Raven Feels Jun 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, the taste of hell makes us appreciate a life in heavens:)<<<33333


now the moral I view me
blind eyes open wide for the destined sea

heartbreak from a nonexistent lover or them harmonize
would never fail a cruel existence never restore I fantasize

gave the blood I lean blame to bleed
gave the ache I feel shame to plead

called the begs of the braided sirens
called the legs of the shaded horizons

knew the death of me anticipated on hope
just from that **** embraced on October eloped

sure getting rid of the brown brushed one face
what I regret is the hell of before brutally fazed


                                                                                      ------ravenfeels
Tonight,
I don't want to hear another sound,
Another word,
Another thought echo through
The caverns that run deep;
Just let my hair
Drape my face
From existence
Before I let out
Another deafening
Sound when my eyes shut
The world away.

Tonight,
I'm worn,
And I'm hurting;
Just let the ambient sounds
Fade out,
And seconds progress;
I can't even look at myself,
Or undress the dirt;
I’ll just lay here
At the ceiling
Hearing the sirens break
This desired silence,
Wondering if, one day,
I’ll be the reason
For their whining
Or if would even I call out.
29 lines, 287 days left.
Amber K Sep 2020
Every time I here sirens,
I think of you.
I think of the lights I saw.
The reds and the blues.
I had no idea it was you.
And to this day,
I still flinch at the thought,
that it could be someone else I care about.
Shared from my drafts. About the day I lost a friend to suicide.
Laokos Sep 2020
folding the sirens of
eternity in on themselves
as this scant hour
rebuilds its stage
over and
over
in the light of my eyes

already there is a perception
of being caught
in a loop - of a lesson
playing out
before a malady
of ignorance

i am free to see it
and i am free
to miss it

it is the long
breath
of the breaching
whale - an exchange
of currents for
the transformation of
sky into
ocean depths

it is
the
hidden union
in transience

recurring
in beautiful
obscurity
Norman Crane Aug 2020
Among the hideous shapes
   you are my favoured
For the wretched silence of your scoliotic spine
   flavoured with our crimson wine:
Blood diamonds
   screaming songs of sirens
   writhing on a desiccated island's edge
Boiled alive—
   can be distilled into the language of a pledge
I hereby promise to be yours
Foretell you will be mine
Riley OHalloran Jul 2020
The sea needs no sirens to tempt me,
but I’d love to hear one—
it’d be an easy explanation
for the disappearance I’m craving.
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