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Published: 2009-08-03 00:05:05 +0000 UTC; Views: 1739; Favourites: 30; Downloads: 26
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Description
Self Portrait. It's taken a long time for me to want to submit this. Took the shot and wrote the poem just over a month ago...-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Poem for a ghost.
I've taken to sleeping with the backdoor open
No more fear of midnight silence broken
By unseen shadows in the doorway of my bedroom.
He clicked his fingers and she jumped
80 feet in to the air.
Not knowing that beneath her
There was nothing really there.
He told her not to love him
But she did it any way.
And the ground came up to meet her
The same sheets in which she lay.
You lost your mind amidst the glitter
Of far off stars.
Starfucker.
I'm not bitter.
Heart and body bleed
For what is lost.
Love the taste of your neck.
Addicted to your fury.
Drive you wild
With my gentle teeth.
Sad that I won't get to touch you any more
But lets face it, I wasn't made to be your travelling, live-in whore.
Eyes shut:
Hot breath on my neck.
Red scarf over your eyes to shield the morning light that shines through broken blind slats.
Warmth and bliss.
Make me purrr.
Eyes open:
Empty air.
Tracing the outline of your ghost shape.
Hollow arms and empty chests.
Scratches like track marks.
Say sorry but I'm not.
Do you stop loving
When the plane takes flight?
I gave you me.
Bat man. Broken man
You'll never find
Your missing heart
Amidst the sharks
And shining smiles.
So I watch
And maybe wait.
Quietly, without complaint.
Maybe you'll be too long.
Maybe I'll be gone.
I tried with all my might
To fight.
Trust in what?
Your delicate dark eyes,
I brought you from hell
To Heaven.
Into my hell:
Private dark
In which I rise
Like a dangerous phoenix.
Born from the Flames,
To sleep with the backdoor open
And love with the birdsong.
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Comments: 4
mfleury75 [2013-09-12 14:04:26 +0000 UTC]
Don't believe in ghosts
Or the ephemeral light of a dying conscious
Nothing is asΒ treacherous
Than the prying eyes solemnly ambiguous
Asking to be taken away.
Take nothing away, leave them be
Fortunately you'll see
What lies far beyond the immortal grave
Not merely in the mortuary stone craved
Let them be, away, away from me.
Begone, ashen figure beneath my bed
Take this veil that once blinded me
For I think I'm turning slightly mad
I can't feel, taste, hear, speak or see.
Begone, faint dreams that haunt my night
Go away before the dawn lights
Free me from this dark prison
Full of passion and not reason.
What makes us tick inside our pretty little heads?
What vicious needs our souls have?
What drown or frivolous desires?
What calms our inner fires?
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LorenDee [2009-09-06 14:51:35 +0000 UTC]
Really lovely, I like it.
How are you, by the way?
I've started taking pics (using a rubbish camera, just for sake of trying it out...) they're on facebook, if you have time check it out, I'd be glad to know what you think.
x
D
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xouba [2009-08-04 07:10:52 +0000 UTC]
I suppose this means that you're still alive. I thought you had left DA for good
BTW, this is a post-breakup poem, isn't it? Nothing can conjure such painful images like a bad breakup.
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