[x]

the scars on your shouldersthe scars on your shoulders
are braille to me, so that i
can read your skin, so that i
can know you better.

i like to listen to your heartbeat
and how it resounds differently
from mine, just so beautifully
like two songs played in tandem
to harmonise in rounds;

i like to hold your hands
and rub your back
so that maybe my love
can find its way through your pores
and seep into your blood
(never can i find the right words
to tell you just the way you feel to me)

and to think that and how i nearly missed you
makes me miss you more
every minute and mile we spend
elsewhere.
i can't sleep with another body
in my bed,
but sleeping without you
leav

we are not a fairytalewe are not a fairytale.

I am not the strong lead with a heart of fire,
bones of steel, and eyes of vapid curiosity;
motivation seeping through
my every last intended action because
I was written this way

(the heroine falls only to rise again:
proverbial phoenix, burning out
because it is the cycle of my
life) and you, you are not

the beautiful travesty, perfectly composed
to strike me where I’m weak and
[almost]human, delicately woven
like the tapestry of my dismantling—
a subtle irony where somewhere, a writer
chuckles softly, understanding

we are blinder than church mice, born
in a makeshift world of darkness where
I&rsquo

Onceyour beauty lies restless behind those
hills, where you fought valiantly. and
the man you once were was brave and kind,
but now you are possessed by a passenger
of darkness, whispering words of your
loneliness.

the man you once were is forgotten, and
the man you are today, is only a ghost, a
shadow, of what you were before.

SurelyIt was raining
when we kissed for the first time,
for the last time.

Thin rivulets
sunk into the shrunken space
between our bodies
and divided us
like nothing could before,
like everything will
from now
until that never again
when we will
see each other once more,
no more.

Your eyes were
that bewitching shade
of dull brown blue
with all of the light darkness
whirling
in a placid pond
around a pupil
overflowing with vacancy,
and me
and my frowning smile.

The winter heat
fell like a rising tide
and,
for our every breath
was another death
so black and full of life --
embracing our boiled ice skin
as we drew apart,
came together and broke free

Condemnedbeneath the beaten earth they lay,
their dreams condemned to ashes,
and our restless bodies stretch,
for forgiveness, for direction –

survivors of the abyss,
amidst wide-eye, silent soldiers –
so many dead, so many maimed,

how many graves are we standing on, today?

FossilizedLiving proof of fossils alive,
and no horseshoe-crab am I.

Nor, inhabitable harsh compression of plates,
residing under humid marsh-scapes.

I mold into the walls, as chalky old coal.
But I am no mineral, no era.
I am not, Mesozoic.

Through the ages
Iron
Bronze
silver, gold and heroic.

I remain a still-life; and no Iduna's apples would retain my youth
No magic fountains, or time devices, or wrist watches.
I am the machine of time.
The watcher, omnipotent, the wise.

But

no God am I

Somewhere, sweet tangy sap trolleys down cracked bark.
Somewhere, celestial bodies erupt unseen.
Somewhere, a abrupt breeze blows overturned bi-cycle tire

Prelude       Nocturne;
I conjure the moon
as dusk crests,
       a wave across the sky

       I am lovely and lonely in
       the night, shadow-
       shackled to the mountainside

and the moths
unfurl their hamsa-wings as
mama calls me in.

bookworm“there is no such thing
as reading too much.”
that is what I tell you
when you insist

that there is some danger of
becoming lost in the stuff—
mistaking seriphs for serpents,

swallowing a story so whole
that its hook
sticks in my throat.

“there is no such thing
as reading too much”
I tell you, bold-faced,
surrounded by snakes
with a line through my lip.

VaseA broken heart can be excavated.
Damaged tissue can be scrupulously removed
and the cracks can be sealed
with the molten trails of gold solidified.
The upturned cavity,
once proofed against further damage,
can become a pulsing vase for tulips,
because even though your heart has been broken
it is still valuable beyond comparison.

silver dreams.i won't say a single thing
about what you and i did that night.
it wasn't anything bad, we were
made to do it.
but the way your tears fell down
in the shape of a cloud
and the pounding on the doors
told us the stars were calling.
more like the gates of hell, but
you think stars make the most delicate
corpses.

HorsepowerHorsepower

There’s a knife turnin in my soft parts
And heat burnin my mind on hard starts
The motors runnin but I lost the wheel
Just want it to be numb don’t wanna feel
Take two steps back and put it in park
Before I leave scarred up black marks
I need a u-turn on this highway
But can’t go back on the by-way
So look ahead, the pavement goes on
Break the rear-view mirror it’s gone
Contemplate
Reiterate
Put it in drive
And say goodbye
Let’s see how fast this bitch can fly

-Cygam7

nightmarethe foxes are at your bedside and singing--
feversongs,
songs of boiling thoughts
and broken muscles.
their lullabyes.
they sneak so quiet, and
somehow,
you can't quite
dream
anymore.

Here and There, Now and ThenBurnt umber dawn, swaying electric trees
Thousands of souls chant in the summer wind
Journals of the dead are read by schoolchildren
They awake shaking someone else's dreams from their heads

Static electricity on the nape of your neck
In the television, on your phone, in your dinner
The calling of a murder of crows from the trees
You remember the view from the hospital room window

A smorgasbord of life and limb, death and decay
The antiseptic smell has an undercoating of rot and dirt
Talismans won't work any more than prayers and candles
Soldiers still fight lost wars, glory in the faded night

Tall fences are built to keep the worlds separ

Puppet My tears fall,

like invisible

diamonds.

My heart beats,

like soundless

drums.

Unwanted,

because of the

strings attached.

How To WriteHow to write:

Write a word.
Now write a sentence.
Write a paragraph.
A chapter.
A story.
The end. ♥

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I'm a CowgirlI'm riding the future,
I'm riding on love,
But I'm riding with borrowed energy I'll never get back.
Exhaustion is right behind
Me
And the sun is rising as I cry across the country.

I'm a cowgirl riding the future
With borrowed energy to
Keep exhaustion behind me.

I'm riding to a mirage,
I'm watching the reflection,
But I'm riding on love that I've never seen before.
Exhaustion can't catch
Me
And the sun is shining as I see the cool pond.

I'm a cowgirl riding the future
With borrowed energy to
Keep exhaustion behind me.

I'm remembering blood,
I'm remembering tears,
But I'm riding on love that surpasses all.
Exhau

Finally MoreI know I'm more than a dead set of roses,
And I know that I'm more than a tree,
I'm more than what you give to me
And I've fallen in your grace
Where only my fingers may trace
The contours of your handsome face
And these words that I write bring joy to my heart
And this love that we have holds no empty part
I'm yours
You're mine
Test it and we'll be fine
Because there are no dead roses
And I love that growing tree
And your hands that are giving give only to me.

Love SongOne thing I've held
with song in head:
verses sighing - "new horizons"
chorus singing - "love divine"
melody haunting - "when ready."

I've given all else
with racing pulse
hoping you'll smile
and sing a while,
but you haunt me
with your well-worded melody.

Your silent question has an answer
"I am ready."
But I wonder:
when the verses are complete
will the chorus cease to repeat?
And as the melody stops...
what will happen when the song ends?

New horizon
you love me
-when you're ready-
new horizon
I love you
-I am ready-
new horizon
do you still love me?

Angel of mineAngel beloved behold me with truth
as I beg for forgiveness for my discarded youth
thrown out in shards
dismissed and discarded
mistaken for disposable

my Angel accept my appologies
and hold me closer

devouring beast step back from me
I beg of you to please set me free
you've taken blood
sacrificed my skin
and marred me forever

skin stay holding and dare not itch
may be we can be okay

Losing ItAs I rock back and forth in this great easy chair
I question the rhythms and times of the pages
Turning to the
Churning and
Burning inside
That ungodly sound of my heart’s beating time

And the breaths catch
My lips stick
And I can’t stop the shakes
That come with the nerves deep inside

Each movement I question if I should have made
And turn back another of the pages in my book
Turning to the
Learning and
Fearing the truth
That may be I’m wrong but maybe I’m right

And my hands twitch
My eyes pool
And I can’t stop the cold
That creeps down my spine without stop

And I can’t stop the yearning tha

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Unspoken Truth

by ~GhostOfMystery, Feb 24, 2010, 4:18:15 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

I love you, I want you, I need you today
Right by me forever, but I cannot say
That my life feels so empty when I wake up to see
That no one is lying in bed beside me
And
If I tell you what I want I must leave out you,
Because clinging to a man is strictly taboo,
You'll be upset and scornful and angry at best
Because I didn't say what lingers in my chest
But
When you enlighten me with the things you say
I find that it cannot matter anyway,
You don't say it either because it is soon
So I cry whilst I gaze up out at the moon
However
I'd say it, I would, that I want to be there
I want to be always, your maiden fair,
The one to be with you in red, black, and white
And it's taking all of me to not turn in flight
Because
I've reached breaking point that I can't handle
Where I've turned and ran, caused quite a scandal,
Broken hearts, cried tears, questioned sanity

I've told so many
That I love them fair
But none have had honor as you
I've told none
That I want them
The way I want you
And none that I could stay

I need you to fight me
And I need to say
That I'd make a home
I'd …

Even now, I can't say what I'd do with you
…
What I'll do with you
Someday
…
because I'm ready to run away.

Unspoken Truthby ~GhostOfMystery

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

I think I've finally figured out what triggers my flight response, and it's the inability to say what I want to say. Once it was love, and now it's more than love... better not run :/

~Tomotoya Feb 24, 2010

Stand firm, Lys. You have come this far, why stop now?
(Out of curiosity, what prompted this poem?)

And remember what Clint Eastwood said- "We've gotten this far, let's not ruin it by thinking."

~GhostOfMystery Feb 25, 2010

because it's what I do?

(a conversation that shoved me in a blender)

ah, but I was taught to... I'll have to unlearn that.

~Tomotoya Feb 28, 2010

Wish I could help.

~GhostOfMystery Feb 28, 2010

the funny part is, anyone could have helped but everyone was so concerned about themselves last week they wouldn't listen

~Tomotoya Feb 28, 2010

No offense Lys, but I think if you had told me something was wrong, despite the drama I was badgering you about, I would have listened...

~GhostOfMystery Mar 1, 2010

well, it wasn't just you... and God knows I can't speak lol

~Tomotoya Mar 3, 2010

You should at least try...

~GhostOfMystery Mar 3, 2010

... I tried last night.... with him..... feeling like that was not a good idea.

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Unspoken Truthby ~GhostOfMystery

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