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venus fly-traps[i] There are legends here of earthquakes; splits and crevices from feeling far too much Saying far too little.venus fly-traps
[ii] I took your hand and led you into the garden (or maybe you led me—with your breath falling lightly on my shoulder, it is hard to tell) And I fell to sleep amongst the venus fly-traps
They turned my way and
Explored—pricked and tasted my blood-and-arsenic
Infusion; curious, hungry, wanting.
When I woke, unrooted, you were twisted in the vines.
Eyes: half-moons seen through maple leaves &nb
by ~le-zelle
almost songPassed down from ear to mouth toalmost song
Touching palms, these thoughts are faded—just like My shirt, close to yours and
Easing out the color, replacing it with Bitter blanks and spaces in between the smiles.
This, this is what you do to me.
You said: The only lives we hold are not worth keeping Not a dime, and my eyes followed a sail hovering Dangerous against the backdrop of the
Horizon, not daring to say a thing.
And even then, as the sail disappeared the last time, when your Eyes were turned away, occupied by
Sand, gathering beneath our feet—
by ~le-zelle
still thinkingAnd a second time—still thinking
(or a third or fourth, I have lost track of the times your eyes look at me just so with the half-shadows and your frame half-turned, as if to offer me a look at places that I’ve never been)
And a second time we were walking
Down that same beach, except now the sky was not so unremarkable and A boy was falling into the water (though we did not say a thing and Instead You pulled down into the sand and said: Isn’t it so nice, isn’t it so nice just right now?) The sand does not even bruise me when I fall in heart-first, and I am Cut Carefully
by ~le-zelle
quiet marchMarch occurs so quietly in between Every other month, so that I wonder ifquiet march
It is really you that I see coming through the fog And into the greenhouse.
When she leans against the walls, it is white on white and almost camouflage She hates the word ‘chameleon’ and says It sounds too much like losing breath and cowardice.
Let’s disappear inside a small doorway, where we will go Unnoticed, Slide into place on velvet cushions (and watch the singer through a curtain of our hair)
If one could see a secret it would be like flesh with Small, etc
by ~le-zelle
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StillI love sitting on that windowsill, staring out at the world below. This sense of calm rushes over me as I see the busy people rushing about their busy lives and my world seems so still. The snow is still falling but it’s refusing to stick to the wet pavement awaiting its touch. The entire city is silent tonight; everyone is mourning the death of us.Still
I can’t write a thing on that fucking guitar. I can only play one chord, over and over, inspiration abandoning me again. I find it amusing; how many times had I screamed at you to leave me alone when I was writing? Now, I wish you were here to scream at.
God, I miss you.
by ~Pointless-Nostalgic
NeverHow could you sit there in silence? How could you say nothing at all? The look on your face belied your emotions but what was I supposed to do now? Run? Hide? Pretend that nothing you ever said or did to me mattered?Never
You looked content, sitting amidst the writhing masses, each of them a slave to the bassline. You looked bored and I didn't know what to say next. I had asked you a million questions once upon a time and you had never given me anything in return. All I wanted was one single answer to any of those questions and I would've been happy... For a while.
What was I supposed to do n
by ~Pointless-Nostalgic
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: up a tree
- Interests: mythology, writing, European History, Biology, scouting, swimming, pretty boys, free-hand sketching.
- Favourite band or musician: at the moment: Snow Patrol
- Favourite artist: Mucha, Waterhouse
- Favourite poet or writer: Cummings, Borges, T. S. Eliot, Maguire, Ayn Rand, and so so so many online writers :)
- Skin of choice: mine, thank you very much.
- Favourite game: at the moment: Super Mario all over again, baby.
- Personal Quote: As I was going up the stair, I met a man who wasn't there...--Mearns
- Tools of the Trade: brain.
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Like that made sense.
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like that made sense.
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_//LEMONTEA||MORE.ADDICTIVE.THAN.HEROIN_+''
Come back...
*drags you to the corner of cyber-space and covers you in kisses...*
Di xxx :hug
P.S. How British was that?!
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