If I could fly
I would stay in the sky all day
Floating around the intricate clouds
With warm sunlight as my robe
And my hair as my flag.
If I could fly
At night I would wander to the atmosphere
Gaze in wonder at the stars
Forget the people below
And let the night wind carry me through.
If I could fly
I wouldn't often come down
I would be liberated from earthly worries
And I wouldn't care about you anymore.
Observe them sitting there
Deceitfully innocent
Layering on a fresh coat
Hiding their guilt
And ignoring their evil
For polish, they will give away
I am not wholesome
My halo weeps
My arms are held back
Drop, by drop, by drop
Tears of life
Hush, we are pure
An angel fell and broke its wings
I held it with shaking hands and watched
The energy ebb away
A flux in the landscape
God's intervening hand
Or was it the Devil's painted pure?
The angel whimpered, but
I could do not but to hold it
And who to pray to besides the angel itself?
Time ran on
Tears like splotches of ink
And nothing but a vain sentence-
Beware, dear ange
This Is Not A Love Story by 1oooinkstains, literature
Literature
This Is Not A Love Story
Another times relic told me:
"When I grow up,
I want to eat the weak."
"But!--"
I had protested,
protestedprotestedprotested,
every ember of me was--
"I love you!"
A smile and a tilted head.
"You are not weak,
my dear."
[beat/breath]
[beat/breath]
[beat/breath]
The sun had gone out
years ago,
but his gasps were like
it's old
butter of warmth upon
my skin.
We were shadows,
you know.
shadowsshadowsshadows;
he had given me
my intangible shade-skin,
revealed it
like it was a part of my genome.
Perhaps this was beauty.
[beat/breath]
[beat/breath]
[beat/breath]
I was choking on something
that wasn't
emotions in my t
Your heart is in the place where your tongue meets your throat
You can feel it
It's
Fighting your windpipes
Strangling your voice box
It's strange, isn't it?
It was in your stomach moments ago.
But you just summoned the souls
Of the dictionaries you keep
In the gaps between your teeth
They've been there since the first time
You heard a voice through a microphone
And you knew you had to speak.
That stand has become your altar.
You offer your prayers to this crowd
like scripture.
The first time you stepped up to a mic
You only believed in shooting stars
But now you write your wishes
With the dictionaries you keep
In the
as i look into a broken hand and see its fingers twitch....
rubbing against its forehead attempting to find a stitch...
as if everything within it was held by naught but thread...
as if you were like a foot ball, air filled yet dead.......
held by nothing but the seems and themes that fill life....
and is if this wasnt enough mud to turn strafe into strife.
you still have to balance on the edge of a razor...........
while taking lifes shocks which feel just like a tazor.....
ive seen the puppet masters pull strings like jepeto.......
ive seen men travel into caves and create echos............
just so they could imagine they weren't
his fingers move.
long, slender, knobby, sharp.
darting back and forth like teeth from a shark.
skins of the fallen, stitched to and fro, wraps itself around the fingers like an overstrtched speedo. gray, with white hairs, like it just woke up from a tomb.
arms outstretched and knobby like the hands, span from each side of the eldritch being.
this thing of mythic prolific proportions makes men into children and boys into orphans.
its arms tend to touch far more then the food, affecting the chefs their utensils, like walls etched by stencils.
its feet are that of machines, with the treads used to crush and destruct what obstructs their
I wonder if you felt out of time, or if you felt time at all?
Defeated, but you appeared so whole.
A casket contradiction, rosy cheeks on a frostbit baby.
I envision you soaring But never breaking ground.
Your peach body swallowed by the earth.
But we're burying this girl in our hearts.
opened my eyes to see nothing
but the world I once loved
and with a cry I fell to the ground.
I moved the earth
I sank right in
I did no wrong
touched just enough to feel it forever
and never forget the hands, so fragile
I saw his face
I can't stop now
I am still within
Ripped from my hands and broken to shards
and like dirt, has been swept away
I lived just once
I loved too much
and now there is nothing left
9-28-95