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Tempt Me With WordsWords are luscious and flow off the tongue,
Tempt me, suitor,
With words of honey and lilac.
With faded parchment and onyx ink,
Slowly seduce me, kind sir,
With words of velvet and flame.
Words are precious and form the souls' essence,
Court me, gentle man,
With literature and good graces.
Words are indefinite and lucid,
Speak my language, hot-blooded spirit,
By softly whispering stanzas in my hair.
Words are eloquent and unique,
Trace sonnets on my skin,
Capture my heart with words.
Stain my blood with poetry,
Heat my heart with haikus,
Make my skin shiver with lyrics,
Capture my attention, soulful man,
By reciting and writing.
Words are thicker written, fair souls,
And they taste of cinnamon and passion,
Tempt me, brave man,
With your words, above all.
Your Feline Shadow...Go ahead and tell me,
Your darkest deepest fear,
Whisper it, type it slow,
And never let them hear
Because you know how much I care,
You know what I really mean,
And because I care so deeply,
You're secret's safe with me.
Go ahead and tell me,
Who you really love,
Whisper it, and type it slow,
And never let them know
Because you know that I still care,
So I'll never tell you no,
I'll support your whims on hand,
And never to let go.
So go ahead and tie the string,
Draw the face of my true soul,
Tickle, laugh, and trick me, boy,
But you have to know,
That these games make it difficult,
They make it oh so hard
I care for you,
And yet you're not sure..... who you care for
And I can't let go
I'll be here,
Waiting, smiling, laughing, and playing as always seen.
I'll be here,
Hoping, trusting, caring, and saying what I mean
And you'll be there,
Swaying to and fro,
Never knowing who to love
I'm your feline shadow, boy,
To Kiss A GhostSlowly the drug pulls down my veins,
Pulling my hand in purpled waters,
Dragging me down into a misty realm,
Of lavender smoke
Landing in a chilled crystal lake,
The ripples lapping against my legs,
I lift my eyes and see someone
A shadow of... someone
He reaches out a hand to me and touches my neck,
With the other, pulls me closer
It was like kissing a ghost,
He was there, and then... he wasn't
I never met his true self,
But I knew him then, and only then
My hair ruffled through his fingers,
Rough and red,
His skin was cool and fading,
I never knew what it was
To love a ghost
Did He Just Say....The words drifted in the air,
Like silver sugar lacing my smile,
I feel the skin around my eyes and neck warm and tint with red,
I cast down my eyes and smile,
There they are,
His fingers in my hair again,
Tapping and playing,
But all I can hear are those words
Dancing through my head like perfect hallucinations,
But he said them .he did
."We could be" ..
A Therian Curse or BlessingWhen I'm near you,
And close my eyes,
I can feel my claws,
My phantom tail weighing on my spine,
The twitching ears perked,
The flattened ridge above a small nose,
I can imagine everything,
And it feels so weird and amazing and startling and perfect in the same second.
She may have called me a freak, but what I am is more than that.
I am not human, she cannot call me that much for my spirit.
I am feline trapped in a human masquerade,
My slitted irises burning under frosted glass,
And as I close my eyes,
And let you trace my jaw line,
Let you pull back my hair and chuckle,
I'm stuck between two worlds…
One is telling me it is better to shrug off this human skin and be my true self.
The other is telling me that I was meant to be yours in this way,
that I am stuck between two worlds to befriend you…to be here for you and you for me….
For if I was truly feline, I would not be able to speak to you.
I would not be able to laugh at your jokes,
Or play with you the way
Drifting MemoriesPulling covers over chilled shoulders,
Closing my eyes to the setting sun,
I feel my lips pinch in a small smile,
As I remember everything about you that makes my days special.
Every moment spent, every text sent,
I smile, knowing that you are mine,
And I sleep into dreams of holding your hand,
And kisses in courtyards,
Darkened rooms and bleachers,
Special memories take my hand,
And guide my heart to the reasons why I need you.
As long as I can dance the dance of both worlds,
Tread that fine line and remember my lies,
You'll be mine, and I'll be yours.
I Am Your Clockwork DollLay me out on the table and open my eyes,
Peel back the skin and reveal my porcelain heart,
Like a clockwork doll, made in secret from the mountains,
A lock is encased in its center,
And the key was lost long ago
Given to a man of a name I've never known
You play music of the sweetest notes,
Stories of love and devoted trust
Love I don't deserve
Love I can only give away
What a truthful night it has been for this doll,
Every heart spoke its truth,
And she nearly cried from her shock
So much love and care,
From those she's never met never known
Her crystal blood flows freely now,
Warming up her ceramic skin,
Her glass lips shining,
Her bright eyes sparking,
You all have awoken me, once more.
I'm just the clockwork doll brought down from the mountains .
Basking in the unimaginable, unexpected love of your words.
The Shower's TherapyLetting the skins drape to the floor,
I reveal my body to the chilled sliding glass,
Stepping away from a mottled brown door,
The sudden sound of rain across tile soothes my ears.
Each step across the icy floor, over into the light blue haven,
A breath, a gasp, the warmth of each droplet slicing my skin, my blood spreading,
My hair loops down across my shoulders,
Like silken chords of brunette hues shining,
I watch as the water slides down the ropes, and dances off into the air before thinning below,
Slowly, I'm shaking,
My breath too shallow, backing up, clearing my eyes,
I lay against the stones and let the rain envelop me.
I forget everything and listen to it rush past my ears.
I watch as it decorates my pale skin with peach dew drops,
And I envy...
I close my eyes and let this constant pounding of the shower beat down on my back,
My nerves begin to dull and I feel rocked to sleep,
tucked in by the coolness of the tiles below my legs...
When I try to stand again, in fear of sitting
Close My Eyes, Yet There It IsThere's something there that nudges my heart ,
It pulls my lips into a smile that I can't control.
There's something there that draws the laughter from my chest,
And centers my attention in a way I haven't felt in a while .
I pull away and shake my head.
Press it against the chilled stone wall.
Close my eyes and remember.
Close my eyes and remember
The pain from before,
The scars left behind,
The reason for the need to escape .
I can't do this not again .
It would probably be best if I locked up my heart,
Muzzled it and tied it up,
Restrained and hidden from the breaking star-light.
Close my eyes and remember
.There there it is again .
Close my eyes and .
There it is, coaxing and gentle
Close my ..
There it is again, reminding me, whispering to me...
What am I to do?
I close my eyes, turn away, remind mys
Relentless WordsYou've found your way into my diary,
though I still don't know your name.
The scribbles and twirls that make my world,
for a short while, your essence tamed.
Pen after pen, running out of ink,
in a desperate sprint towards forevermore.
It seems I am trapped by a mapped out life
that I do not remember signing up for.
The edges of this book scream freedom
but the border is no place to rest my hands.
My fingers grow tired, filling pages with desires
but within these boundaries and contours I am damned.
Each time pen meets paper, the void slowly fills
but the words never match what I wish to exclaim.
You found your way into my diary today,
though I will never know your name.
Where did all the flowers go?This is the part when I watch your demise
where the evidence of your existence dies
with a quick wink and devilish grin
I'll send your soul deeper into sin
Ill cast you out into the flames
For this tragedy it is you I blame
And this punishment is the perfect fit
Spending all eternity in a fiery pit
You will beg me, I know your kind
But a drop of mercy you wont find
You used to bite at the most vulnerable throat
But now I'll slaughter you like a shoat
The children you murdered will not die in vain
It is now my pleasure to bring you pain
I'll bury in my garden when I'm done
Killing you slowly will be so much fun
I'll skin you first to hear you scream
then ill dissect you and rip out your spleen
It will feel so good to hear you cry
I'll make you wish that you could die
After we play doctor I'll get my shovel
6 feet under? lets make it double
Down the dirt whole where you will rot
Soon even the Idea of you will be forgot
Its been a month and the plants have died
My garden looks sick on the
Mirror MirrorMirror mirror,
upon my wall,
my reflection is not beautiful,
not beautiful at all.
My skin sags,
and dullness lies
where a glittering spark
within my eyes.
The palette of violet
beneath my eyes;
to a passionate indigo.
Skintone, once golden,
The crow's feet
the flight that ended
at the corners of my eyes,
I look old and tired,
a lifetime spent
dabbling in frivolity,
and wasteful fashion.
My wrist tips
the bottle of foundation
into the porcelain sink.
the Tree (a lullaby)She put her doughter to sleep,
she sang a lullaby,
she gave her child a kiss,
she said: "Goodnight, my sky".
She tucked her baby in...
a cover made of ground
a scream resounded then,
a scream and no more sound.
When her groom came back home
he seemed to see her dance
around the giant tree
where started their romance
but she hanged down from a branch
like a silver fish from a lence:
the wind made swing the noose
tricking at first glance.
A Pawn To YouAs I sit there and laugh,
Acting like my crazy self,
You yell at me and lash
Out, wounding me with
Every word and every
Mark. My arms sting,
Layered with red spots
That only appeared after
You had hurt me. Why
Do you do this, to me,
When all I want is a fun,
Good time during lunch,
Somewhere where I won't
Have to worry. But no, you
Won't allow me to have that
Good time, because I'm there,
And that's all you need for
Reason. Well, I'm not a
Nobody. I have feelings, too,
And you can't just sit there,
Ignoring them, thinking you
Can just push me around.
I'm not a pawn in your
Little game you have going,
That you use as bait, I'm a
Person with feelings, with a
Heart, and every blow, whether
You mean it or you don't, hurts
Me a little more, and you do it
Only because you think I'm just
A pawn in your games. Well,
Right Beside YouI'll be right beside you until the end,
I'll be your support, your shoulder to
Cry on, I will advise you to do what I
Think is best for you, and remember,
Friends forever. I will always be at your
Side, whether or not you need me, I
Will stay to comfort you when you are
Lonely. I am a listerner, so you can
Spew out your problems to me, you
Can let go and I will take the weight
Off of your shoulders. I will be a talker
To help you talk through your problems,
A problem solver, and I will never go,
Even through all the tough times and
The rough words.
Citrus LeatherThe lemons that grew,
plump and sunshine-skinned,
from the trees;
in your father's orchard
mirrored your skin,
smooth yet calloused,
mimicking the feel of
from your many days
beneath the summer sunshine.
And the pulpy flesh inside
just as sour
as my memories
Lower ClassThat girl
the one with the notebook
forced to grow up
far before her time
She sees the world
in a different light
were people once fled
from their lives
is her prison
tear each other
apart with words
unworthy of a wedding vow
her little sister
her stuffed animals
in the cover
of a seemingly
perfect suburban home
off in some city
possibly downtown Seattle
for hooking up
and he'll be stuck there
in that fruitless pursuit
for decades to come
She scribbles angrily in her notebook
as each passing night
of this endless domestic war
the salt water
pours down her face
she doesn't know
what a 'normal' life
she seems cookie cutter to you
she's got a home
but you're wrong
that's no home
that's a house
a mere four walls
and not a smile
or an ounce of love
or a word comforting enough
to turn such a battlefield of emotions
and last resorts
into a home
but she's got
My Little GirlWhen I'm grown,
and I'm finished
with the wild ride
of being young,
I think I'll have
a little girl of my own.
is all a mother
She'll be mine,
I'll teach her
all she needs to know.
She won't need
to dress like she's eighteen
at the age of barely nine.
The only value
of a girls' chest
depends of the size of her heart,
not her chest.
That the words ring true
when people say
will never be worth more
That dreams are worth
and that a girl
can only go
as far as she thinks she can.
That the world
doesn't limit you,
only you can.
It doesn't matter
who she loves,
or what she believes,
there's a reason
that they call this country free.
It's not my choice,
to say how she lives her life,
but it's my responsibility
to see to it
that she gets a good head start.
CanvasThe staining ink of your darkest Sharpie,
The bitter scent both relaxing and startling
The gentle tug of felted tips and pen on skin
Just rest my head down,
Let the shivers take me,
I wish you could experience something similar,
But I wouldn't know how to explain,
How wonderful it feels,
When I become your canvas.
Closing my eyes,
I listen to your steady breaths,
Your soft but precise movements on my skin,
My arm stretched across the cool wood,
My knuckles lightly touching your chest
I think, if I lay still enough,
I can feel your heartbeat through my skin
When you set that ink upon my skin,
I forget about everything bothering me,
Everything hurting me
And let the shivers consume me,
When I become your canvas.
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More