[x]

Poetry,She is stardust leaving sweet bones
in her wake. A trail of poetic destruction
conceived in verse--answering questions
with kisses. There is a hunger in her
freckled constellations, like spider webs
woven together with golden thread.
Like the wild roses she braids in her hair:
She walks backboned and head held high;
the strongest of letters on a page
left to rest in your mouth.

Never trust ladies with scythes for smiles.i.
    these god-hands are barbwire's,
    snagging & scarring everything
    they touch.

ii.
    black tongue bleeding sweet ichor
    along the guarded walls
    of skeletal frames.

iii.
    'i want to taste heaven.
    it rests there,
    just beneath your bones.'

iv.
    he is a god dog
    made of scythes & scalpels,
    sewn together with weak thread.

v.
    and she is

She has the moon in her eyes.But, this body is a black hole,
a hollowed out womb-
and these palms are sandpaper
thin and bleeding a silent stigmata.

"Not yet ripe to fall from her bed,
too young to understand her own limbs-"

She folds back July's origami skin,
wishing for the warmth of winters kiss.
She is a raven heart, thumping wildly
against the whispers of vintage lips.

Her bed is empty,
but the sheets are red.

SupernovaShe only ever wanted a real reason to scream, collecting her tears in jars and hiding them behind Poe and Hemingway; she secretly hoped for an ocean to call her own. She would name it after an aged bird spirit, pain manifested in many a Gods image—believing our vast universe formed by the callused hands of artists.

"They must have a sick, twisted sense of humor." she said, eyes on the moon.

And I asked her "Who?" curious, because I'd yet to figure her out.

"The Gods; they give dead stars the prettiest of names."

astrological.i. On some nights,
street lights guide
this lonely heart
to her lonely bed.

ii. In this universe of twilight skin
& mismatched bones,
I wonder just how many poems sleep
beneath the inkwell of her eyes.

iii. My body is a house of stars,
and her palms are black holes
sucking ( me ) into their vortex of

nothing.

iv. She says, "Please—my moon,
please—give these bones a reason
to stay."

& I am whispering lovelies
into the sanctuary of her heartbeats.

v. "Goddess temple,
sunset eyes, &
my windowpane love-

Let us eat the stars
t

ConstellationShe is dream dust,
too bitter or wise
for her own good.

A timeless dragon's soul
somewhere inside a
scaled shell, burning
the silence in her bones
alive, honeysuckle sweet.

She collects fireflies only to
set them free at 3am,
crying to an uncaring moon.

& she's begging for the stars
to take her away,
make this house a home
rigged in the sky.

To me,
She is already naked fever
swimming through the cosmos

& I orbit her.

Lonely Gods"I wish my body to be a staircase

to heaven." She said, "A conduit

of lonely Gods."—Swaying

pendulum hips, she, she

was made of stardust.- Scars sleeping

above a city of sweet bones, stirring

like sun-stricken scorpions during

hollow painkiller nights,

mistaking her redred burns

for Apollos kisses.

"Sadly, this body has whispered away
the last of my secrets."

fly.this is hard for the world around us to grasp:
these wildfires raging in our retinas
& the sins we wear like demonic similes
on our tongues- they are not enough.

& i am so fucking sorry of saying i'm sorry.

but, tell me,
what is a young poet(ess) to do
with veins made of kite strings?

August Lover,I want to wrap myself in your air,
hold your secrets between my
ribcage-embrace & just
breathe.

OmegaThere is a wolf lurking in my doorway;
our eyes holding breathless conversations
as secrets whisper through the stroke of my pen
into the awaiting lungs of strangers.

…Soon young pup, you'll have nothing left to say.

My heart is woven together with tight-knit words,
blood red Poe, and thumping Hemingway-
Yet, no headstrong Omega sleeps
within this slightly cracked, ribcage embrace.

"I am unafraid of forests with teeth."

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More from ~DearPoetry

FrostI am devouring chaos,
chasing it down with winter's chill.
Spare me your fingerprints,
summer's lovechild. Those knowing owl eyes
have me second guessing the wild churning
in my bones. You are the sleep that sweeps
my eyelashes, drowning me in my own daydreams.

When was it...
that you plastered yourself to my ribcage?

I could make a list,but I merely bit my lip when she asked me,

"What is it you're thankful for?"

How could I tell her
I was thankful for this heart
that beats a thousand times over
when I hear her speak?

ConstellationShe is dream dust,
too bitter or wise
for her own good.

A timeless dragon's soul
somewhere inside a
scaled shell, burning
the silence in her bones
alive, honeysuckle sweet.

She collects fireflies only to
set them free at 3am,
crying to an uncaring moon.

& she's begging for the stars
to take her away,
make this house a home
rigged in the sky.

To me,
She is already naked fever
swimming through the cosmos

& I orbit her.

Scorpion"Show me your bones."

the atlas of her thighs quaked
as she misplaced her skin
in the backseat of his car.

"I'm a scorpion, you know-"

a messy promise
folded napkin-neat.

"Prove it."

& she smirked,
sure of her limbs,
her scars, & her teeth.

"I dare you to stake claim to this clavicle."

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Submitted: June 26, 2012
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Wind Chimeby ~DearPoetry

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Visual & Found Poetry

©2012-2013 ~DearPoetry

The end was coming.
Tonight,
she would take me away
with the breeze.

Her sunburnt face
held the marks
of her mother’s.

-her tucked away
need to speak.

~~joy 0 0~~

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~Lauryn120 Dec 9, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

this leaves me peechless. I love it!

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~redmoon-mistress Jul 4, 2012 Hobbyist Digital Artist

So few words but they say so much. Wonderful work

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~DearPoetry Jul 4, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you!

Reply

~Reprogrammed Jun 26, 2012 Student Writer

Love this!

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~DearPoetry Jun 27, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thanks!

Reply

Mood: Love

~TheHardThinker Jun 26, 2012

Why am I being so entertained by these!? Hihihi!!! XD

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~DearPoetry Jun 27, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I don't know. ha!

Reply

~InTheStarryNightSky Jun 26, 2012

A lovely piece. Wonderful job.

Reply

~DearPoetry Jun 27, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you.

Reply

~InTheStarryNightSky Jun 27, 2012

You're welcome.

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