Settle your bones, love,
as you lay them next to mine.
Rest your weary body,
and let your muscles
pay their time.
Let my fingertips dance,
their way along your spine.
I am full with peace,
Let me give you what
DisplacementI've stood underneath the steaming shower head for much too long but I cannot force myself to move. I have too high of a hope that the water will ease the itch in my bones. A razor sits on a ledge, metal blades gleaming, arising an urge to separate my skin from my body.
That's insane. Why are you thinking about that?
Crazy, yes. But on days like this I long to see the inside of what my soul calls home, particularly when I don't feel at home myself. I stretch my arms, my legs, pushing my muscles to their full length, and still I don't feel as if I inhabit the whole of my body.
I still don't-
Cliche"I want to spend my life with you," is not a cliche.
I know you can feel it
in the goosebumps that rise
from my skin at your touch
Soul Burn: Differences (WIP) They walked leisurely, an odd pairing, along the main street heading north of the city. Their voices pierced the air around them as they argued over what had started as a trivial matter. But it was dark, as the lamps lining the street did not cast much light, and so they walked hand in hand,their magic trying to over power the other as much as their words.
"But why doesn't your Kingdom celebrate birthdays?"
"Well, firstly, stop trying to give me frostbite and maybe I'll tell you. You're letting your magic intertwine with your emotions."
"Oh, please. Every time you're irritated I get another blister on my palm. Lead by example, o chosen one." Amanda tilted her head to look up at him, barely suppressing the grin on her face. Garrett raised an eyebrow, trying to look stern, and her laugh echoed against the buildings around them. "Maybe we should try it at the same
Soul Burn: Last Moments The bed hardly made a sound as she laid Garrett down atop the mattress. His paper thin body barely rustled the sheets, while her weight created valleys as she lowered herself down beside him. Their bedroom was silent, the air heavy; she could hear the rattling in his lungs with each breath he drew in.
"I'm not oblivious, Garrett. I knew that as soon as F'neir died your body would begin to deteriorate." Amanda reached up and cradled his face against her palm, her thumb stroking his cheek. "I just hoped the process would take time, a lot of time.
Garrett snorted. "Hey, get that sad look off your face. I could still kick someone's ass if I wanted to."
Amanda wrapped her arm around his chest. His ribs visibly pushed against his skin and scar tissue. She pulled herself into him, her lips fluttering down just below his collar bone. "Shush. You need to rest."
Soul Burn: Death Amanda sat surrounded by a tableful of councilmen and traveling ambassadors. The only familiar face in the crowd was Logan, simultaneously conducting this meeting while watching over her. Her black clothes matched the bruises under her eyes. She cradled her face against the palms of her hands, hair falling limp against her cheeks. She didn't want to deal with this right now; their arrogant words, their pitying looks cast down upon her, their plans on what to do with him. Him. Just the thought of his name made tears spring up behind her eyes, but she bit her lip, refusing to let them well over.
"Well, he may have been a hero, but he didn't exactly have a clean history."
"...can't believe their going to build a memorial in his name."
"Ah, he's just a corpse now. Dead bodies don't deserve much-"
Amanda slammed her fist against the tab
Soul Burn: Choked "What were you fools thinking? Protecting women! Hah!" Laughter rolled out of this bastard, his chest shook with it. "Women aren't worth anything. Certainly not your lives."
Amanda turned her head to view the damage he had inflicted on her teammates. Garrett and Logan sprawled out in the dirt on the floor of this cave. Both were covered in their own blood and barely hanging on to consciousness. Gods damn it! I've lost track of Naz. This was not a situation she wanted to be in; two friends on the brink of death, one missing, and she herself looking this murderer in the eye.
Please Naz, please be alright. I'm going to need your help. Amanda forced herself up off the ground, gritting her teeth. She was covered head to toe in bruises and cuts. Her muscles began to spasm, voicing their objection to her slow, labored movement. She barely had any strength left. But you have to do this. Y
Soul Burn: Observation Amanda stood in the shade cast by the northern wall the Academy’s emerald green courtyard, watching the younger students practice today’s lesson in physical attacks. She was stationed here not only to instruct and correct mistakes, but also to provide medical care. Just in case things got out of hand. Students were paired together based on their opposition in strengths; they differed in everything from physical size, aptitude, and personality.
“The goal of today’s lesson is for you to incapacitate your partner while inflicting a minimal amount of damage. You’ve trained alongside each other for years; you know their strengths and their weaknesses. Out think them, and take them down,” she paused, slowly sliding her worn brown leather gloves from her hands. “Go.”
Some students dived into their fights, others stood still and assessed their partners. Aman
Morphological Bairn glared piercingly at the woman across from him. She winked back, the color of her hair slowly shifting from red to brown. Her eyes shone a brighter blue. Her skeletal structure melted and reformed under her face.
She was toying with him.
First impressions don’t matter much anymore, but he already didn’t like her. In one fluid motion she stepped forward, turned, and let her shoulders rest against the wall. The brick scratched against the fabric of her clothes, which were-
Nope, he didn’t care. Not one bit. Especially not with her willingly flaunting herself like this in public. She leaned into him, whispering, like a child sharing a secret with a friend.
“Come on, big guy. Loosen up a little.” She rolled her shoulder into him. “Play a little game with me.”
Someone once told me
That my mind was poisoned
By the white man.
That I was already dead
To my people.
I don't believe a human being
Is inherently evil
Or wishes harm on someone.
The beauty of being a puzzle piece
Is that we're equally important
But remain different.
there's something fatal about coughing up verse.i got written up for writing poetry on the desks
i don't think they liked the language i used
when i wrote how my heart was beating
like headboards against the walls of people fucking
at 3 am to the sounds of joy division
whenever you read me paintings at dawn.
they were going to send me to the counselor,
but i said my therapist probably wouldn't like that,
so they just let me go.
but this saturday, when i'm cleaning lives off of every desk in school,
i'll just be thinking how much i'd rather be sitting on your roof
and laughing when we argue about rimbaud
and sighing as we start to die.
The Owl's RiddleYou come and ask me,
but you don't always understand my answers.
You meet me in the night,
but I'm not a bird of darkness.
Venom QuillVenom Quill 9/26/14
I'll tattoo you with a poison quill
all the venom I will spill
So all the misery you imbued
will permanently stick to you.
I cannot find any time
when you did not feed me lines.
So I will etch on you all the
pain inside my skin
until the message sinks right in.
WineHead on a patisserie table
with a wine-scented napkin
that I scrawled your name all over
in the hopes it might necromance
or just romance you
to this place, at this time,
so we could be together again
and although the guitarist knows
that I'm broken beyond blue
I keep reaching for the bottle
in the hopes it might recreate
or just replicate
short history of the universe(what it's like is anne sexton quoting van gogh about sometimes having a terrible need for religion)
A lake slams into a bus and a city is unborn.
Enter an ocean of fog and then desert after desert stacked above the hills.
Then you get drunk as fuck near the tumbling skyline,
and this god damned room burns like prayer in your chest.
Then many missing scientists reappear in your brittle beach,
and your satellites in relapse all bending,
and what it's like is some kind of disaster, honestly;
the arms and the aerosol and the linen and the light.
And the rumble forwarding the sovereign wreck saying
survive yourself like you've survived me;
saying the game-changing theory was that everything is always moving,
and same for the carousal shadow bleeding through the mountain in your dream,
same for your silence and the sudden red rain of witnesses.
And then what unconquerable continents,
what strange forecast occupied via gate via wind and wave-
multitudes of sick yellow branch
to the ghosts with you, my deari came not to be kissed,
or to have myself cradled
in the curve of a throat,
but to be broken,
to be diminished
by your lack of affection
& over indulgence of sexualization.
uneducated in your intent,
found myself left entirely whole
& incapable of the fury
i had sought to sow between the
ridges of my aching ribs.
muddy waterthe sun rises late now. or hardly ever.
or belligerent carmine on the underbellies of plants.
a shot of sleep to the head, a boxing glove punch.
the metaphorical rooster crows with the awful clamour of its lonely breath.
the thing is, i can substitute the body.
the thing is, the slit
is a fantastic shade of orange
i saw god but he says you still need to get a fucking job
the thing is, i am bathtub water and rotten leaves.
and the taste of power on the morning wind,
a wet newspaper
with the headlines of a presidential divorce.
there is power in the young eagle
hissing at passersby from its trashcan throne.
i know one thing: