The FogYour fingers were damp, five-pointed stars of heat. They were warm, whiteThe Fog
ghosts humming across
my skin.
And I whispered goodnight to the sky.
After HoursHot fingertips, swaying hipsAfter Hours
and I’m muddled, and I’m free.
And I could fall asleep.
moonscapeThe moon boiledmoonscape
and shimmered,
the rage swept and all the stars blacked out
as the sun hid, yellow-bellied , beneath the horizon.
That white fruit plunged its juicy flesh into the dark waves.
The wet, liquid suicide was muted and perfect.
But the moon was too burning,
and the ocean boiled away until
all the water was gone and
the moon was nothing but craters.
FingerprintsMy hands always reach out and betray me,Fingerprints
blood pooled in the
fingertips so that they appeared fleshbitten
and swollen. So many blisters.
You filled my mouth with honey and watched as I
choked on sugar crystals.
Once again I've thrown off the seashells and veils,
and once again it didn't matter.
Why would you bother?
Why would you touch, and kiss, and spread?
Why would you let me think we mattered?
You could cover me so easily, you could cover me so comple
<3
--
"I saw myself as dried weeds and crackling sparks and everything
that heat involved."
--
For she was all that was left when they'd sifted
Through industy's ashes for unspent souls.
--
--
Come down to my room
I was thinking about you
and made a pass at myself
--
"Courage, sacrifice, determination, commitment, toughness, heart, talent, guts. That's what little girls are made of; the hell with sugar and spice."
---Unknown
my other pg---photos and art :iconchaoticgirl:
I have to say, really great gallery
hi yourself!
--
"I saw myself as dried weeds and crackling sparks and everything
that heat involved."
Previous Page123Next Page