To love you, is to love a crime. You are water, and I am fire. You touch me turning me to smoke in the night. But you always decide smoky stars aren't for you. To love you, is to stick my fist in a mirror. You count the shards in my skin The way people count pennies: Delicately, patiently, an art form of itself. To love you, is to carve a script in my bones. You write my life as though it were a rough draft: Cliché, too many stopping points, and too many open endings. Prohibiting a reader to ever have too much of me. To love you, is to say that you're right about everything. That you are smart in closing me off. That being scared of myself is alright. To love you, is to lose who I am now. My painfully loyal trauma: We clash the way a solar eclipse appears: A war of one having to outshine the other.
I loved a woman so alive a single glance at her sculpted body brought unwavering humans to their knees in hope maybe she would grace them with bounties from her fertile crescent of possibilities. The jewel studded maiden embraced us with open arms coated in streaked colors somewhere between dusk and dawn— I know not what we did to earn her celestial hands wrapped around our foolish dreams. And yet we falter. It was harmless as first. We took a little extra When she laid back as obedient lovers do— ignoring the royal hued bruises blossoming on her skin as iris’ push through frost. But we grow arrogant. Drunk on possibilities we seize her wrists and drag out everything that ever made her lovely, whispering “we will make it up” as though we haven’t burnt her again, and again with the lit cigarettes of greed And she’s had enough. Like stags locking horns to prove who is the unyielding opponent, clashing time after time her fury knows no bounds. As she strikes us harder then
It's been too long since I was last Wrapped in the universe's arms. I wish I'd been told relying on human warmth gifts nothing but disappointment. I can't sleep at home anymore, Surrounded by things only my mind can touch. Because Serenading Silence is not A bird whose song satisfies me. But there's not enough minor chords or poetry to make me feel like a person again- when you're 18 it's easy to feel you're on the worst form of life support. I don't sleep at night anymore. When Oizys, in her lethal beauty Caresses me with honey coated bitterness As I cheat on the person I could be, But I still won't kiss her.
When Everything is Spent by Neptunes-Sparks, literature
Literature
When Everything is Spent
"When everything is spent" In the final age of man There will be nothing to mourn our destructive existence- No Riches as above- nor beauty so below: when you tragically lovely Naiads dripping In every hue, lack Everything that once made up Your coral villas- And when unwavering homes to ancient souls succumb To the wars and words Of our fathers- When of both your Wonders weathered with Wretched time Have nothing left to give. But oh god it's you That I cry with- When fate locks in and I am the only one talking: I give my last breath to you- Wonders of sea and land I mourn that you were Ever touched by human hands. you will touch my final thoughts, The day our future destroys all You have been, and all you could be. Gaia, provider and mother to all- You were doomed to carry a torch so bright It burns you- Until Your ashes scatter For new beginnings.
A home abandoned time and time again- A cellphone that can only call the sea. Souvenir to countless eyes and hands, The ocean's crafted pottery. A lost jewel from Poseidon's crown- The smallest child left behind.