Until Death Goodbye
I'll forever stop chasing shadows
to see your eyes shine with pride
behind those stubborn glasses
Eating dark chocolate every Saturday night
Smiling to each other rolling your eyes
I was sitting in front of the TV at the living room floor
A dream I barely dared to dream of
Will I forever reach for butterflies
A Prose Party Repost - For Ruby
we can build a fire,
and listen to songs
about all the things
we almost had,
but still miss,
and we'll make a toast
to the words
floating just out of reach,
whiskey on ice
and the bitter taste
and we'll smile when we see
that none of us are
drinking alone tonight,
that none of us are.
all missing the same things
in different ways,
finding solace in the laughter,
maybe a few tears before dawn,
and words that taste like blood
as they leave us,
that look like love,
another round for all of us
still pretending to be whole,
still drinking slow enough
to greet the sun.
and if morning finds us
with all our words spent,
may the ashes of our pens
and may the pieces
because they know,
the sharing of ink
has given us wings.
Well I strike a match
And strike out on my own
If I strike out this time
I won't be home
In a stricken world
I've always known
I'm not afraid to be alone
Even as my body smolders
I lit a fire
There's endless drags of cigarettes
And one last bluff I've yet to bet
I play the hearts close to my chest
While the open road curls like smoke
Behind my shoulders
Well I strike a smile
And strike a stone
Strike up conversations
Bare my teeth at every mile
To a woman
I need to know
I lit a fire
No Return To Innocence
So after getting some tough juice from gorgeous @Soulheart I've decided to share my piece with you. I hope it will give you something.
No Return To Innocence
You tore me up bit by bit,
had a taste of me,
not to seem too greedy
You licked my face, and removed layers of tiny clothes,
caressing my cheeks with trembling hands
I hid in the corner and slept away long days,
But you needed my flesh.
So you pushed me out in the cold
so that my bare wounds would burn with guilt and shame
before you with too warm fingers
ripped off frozen pieces of my skin
You laughed at my infirmities.
You smiled while you shredded my tear ducts to fragments of dust,
sowing together bleeding wounds with empty words,
so that I would not rot.
Nearly picked to death,
Did I hold tiny hands over my gender
- Not my innocence, do not eat me there.
But people blinded by magnificence will always want more,
so you greedily stuck your quivering fingers towards the forbidden
and filled my mouth with your manhood
so that I would not speak
That's when you stole the light
from my eyes
and replaced them
Silent screams in fat lungs imprisoned
Locked up aside real hued faces of me
Rise up, I say, for years now I have risen
Above dredged sewer scythe soliloquies.
Subservient, hierarchical will bidden
Fear naught, in flesh, yet obsequiously
Virtual horn locking, a man gone missing
This diss brings it; fire, fight, flight or flee.
Avoidance of a scorch red leaked hissing
So, no hope, solo stood, post-apocalyptically
In avoidance, deluded siren song I'll sing
Slather a smile while honeyed linguistically.
A Goldfish’s Name
My goldfish’s name is Lenoxx.
Really, I’m surprised he’s still alive. It’s been about three years since I’ve had him and he’s doing well. I’ve heard horror stories about how people overfeed their fish and they’ve died simply because of that.
That’s the person’s fault.
I intend to not kill him. When Lenoxx does die, which he will (unless he’s somehow obtained immortality), I really hope it’s not because of me.
My crush’s name is Paris. Like the place. I think he’s cute but when it comes to looks I’m really not too sure - for all I know, he’s incredibly ugly in the eyes of someone else. But anyway, he sits next to me in math class and teases me sometimes so I think he could like me but I’m not sure. He’s funny and shares his answers to his math homework with me if I didn’t get to complete it.
He is also in social studies with me but his mates are in that class so I hardly have a chance to say a word to him.
Maths is after lunch and since my best and only friend Tab is out sick, I’m the first to the maths classroom. People come in and then Paris does. One other person sits at our table. Her name is Darla, but she’s sick nearly every day so most of the time it’s just Paris and me.
We talk about chocolate and he thinks it’s better with orange whilst I favour it with raspberry; in the end, we agree chocolate is just pretty good.
“Do you have any pets?” He says and the tardy bell rings just as one last kid slips in the classroom. I pull out all my math work.
“Yep,” I say. “I’ve got a goldfish and his name is Lenoxx. What about you?”
The teacher puts the correct homework under the camera that displays the work on the wall and we begin correcting our work. I see all stars on his and mine’s mostly red scribbles. “Lady and Princess. Two cats.”
I don’t care much for cats, but I pretend I do because Paris looks happy so I say it’s super cool and then he smiles and does a cute side sweep of his blond thin hair. He has super blond hair; so blond I’ve heard people call him Malfoy before, but he’s not Malfoy - he’s Paris.
Paris gives me a look and he smiles. I about to blurt out if he would like to come over and see Lenoxx, but then I realize how very weird that sounds. I hide my face into my arms and bite the inside of my cheek, not believing I even thought such a ridiculous idea.
“Are you going to the holiday dance?” Paris asks, and it takes me a second to realize he’s whispering to me.
I lift my head out of my arms. “Uh?”
“The dance. In a month. The holiday dance. The eighth-grade dance,” Paris says, his words tumbling out of his mouth now.
I raise an eyebrow. I’m pretty good at it now. I can only do my right but I’m working on my left. “I don’t know. Why?”
Paris looks down at his homework. I see one cross in it but otherwise, there are just red stars everywhere. He’s pretty good at math. Social studies, too. I’m more into art and music. I’m pretty good at English too.
“Well, if you are, would you like to go with me?”
Instead of saying, “Of course” or even “I’ll think about it” or something, I say, “People are bringing dates?”
I’m dead. Dead as Lenoxx will be one day, dead as Paris will be and fish that over-ate and all the people who take up Earth’s space, lying in a graveyard. Deaddeaddead. Because who in the world would say such an awful thing after he handed me an opportunity on a silver platter?
Before he even responds, I wave my hands in the air. “Forget I said that. Sorry. I’m sorry. I really, really did not mean to say that.”
Paris’s eyebrows are knit together. “Well, yes or no?”
“Yes?” I say, but mostly a question because I’m nervous as to how he’s going to react. My insides are fluttering and my intestines feel all twisted up. My lips feel numb and I think they are because I was biting them too much.
Paris seems shocked. “Wait, really?”
His light eyebrows raise. They’re wispy and you can hardly see them at all - almost like he’s got none at all. But he looks cool like that. It makes him look unique. He still looks shocked and I’m afraid I perhaps broke him.
I press my lips together in a tight line, not sure if I should ask the question or not. My filter slips and the words come flying out of my mouth anyway. “Do you like me?”
Paris’s super pale cheeks grow fast into a flaming red fire engine red and I have to suppress a smile because he looks so flustered.
“Do you like me?” He counters back.
I stare at him.
He stares back at me, the features of his face quirking about. I think he’s nervous but I’m not too sure.
“I like you,” I admit, and just the reaction Paris gives tells me for sure he likes me too.
“God, you look amazing.” My best friend’s name is Tabitha Williams but I call her Tab for short. She’s got fluffy brown hair and matching doe eyes - enormous and beautiful. Her skin colour is right in between light and dark. I think she’s absolutely beautiful.
“Thanks,” I say, but I’m not convinced. I’m wearing a light purple dress to the “semi-formal” holiday dance. I have no idea what semi-formal implies, and when I asked Tab, she had no idea either.
“Just go with a dress,” she had said, so that’s what I’m wearing.
“I can’t believe you’re going with Paris,” Tab squeals, and then she pulls off her shirt and pants and pulls on a pair of spandex over her underwear to wear under her dress. She got a much more holiday-y one - silver with white diagonal stripes on it.
I smile and glance in the mirror. A dimple pops up in my left cheek. I don’t have one in my right, though, which makes everything seem much less symmetrical. Mum says it adds character. Right.
I take one look at myself in the mirror and then turn around. Lenoxx needs his food. I’ll usually give it to him after I eat dinner but I’ll be at the dance, and I’m afraid I’m going to forget to feed him after. I don’t want him to starve, either.
Shaking a few flakes into his tank, I turn back to Tab. She’s now in her dress and is squinting at herself in my full-length mirror. She pulls her gaze away and looks at me.
“You’re so pretty,” she says with a frown. “Also, you have the nicest boobs. Literally, look,” Tabitha says, gesturing at her flat chest. The thing is, I’d rather have her chest than mine.
I shrug. “It’s okay. Just wait. And, you look pretty too. Stop hating yourself so much.”
Tab doesn’t say anything except frowns once more. She gestures her head in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve got a dance to go to.”
The dance is located in the gym. It is decorated with Christmas streamers - red, white, and green. Even though I’m sure there are many people here who do not celebrate Christmas, and I think the colors are exclusive of religions but I just put it to the back of my head. Long tables are folded out at the edges of the gym with snacks and punch. I don’t really know what it means to go to the dance with someone, but I had assumed I am gonna dance with Paris.
Dancing isn’t my forte.
I see Paris. He looks nice and is wearing a suit with a shirt underneath it and long pants. Exactly what I would have thought of as semi-formal. He sees me and Tab and comes over to us.
“Hi,” he breathes out.
“Hey,” I say, tempted to chew on my nail but I don’t.
The music is boring and pop-y, so we just hang around. I’d rather not clump up with everyone else and jump up and down with my fist in the air so I nibble on some food. Tab and Paris do the same.
Finally, a slow song comes on and I feel the nerves kicking in and I can see, out of the corner of my eye, Tab watching as Paris asks me to dance and I say sure.
I wipe my clammy hands on my dress one last time before I put my hands on his shoulders.
The song seems to last forever and I enjoy it but also don’t.
When I get home, I really want to go to bed. So I stumble up the stairs, tired, and shimmy out of my dress. I pull on a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants and fall into my bed. I fall asleep instantly to the sound of the tick-tick of the clock and my timed breathing.
I wake up and my first thought is dang it, it’s Friday. And my second thought is no, it’s Saturday! I sit up in my bed and rub the sleep out of my eyes. I smell pancakes and bacon cooking, so I get up out of bed. I grab Lenoxx’s food and am about to shake it once into his tank when I freeze.
Lenoxx is in my tank. But he’s not moving. He’s lying upside down, right at the top of the water.
It’s stupid, really. How attached I got to the goldfish. I crumple to the floor and sit there, hugging my knees to my chest. I can’t think about anything except Lenoxx and convince myself I did nothing wrong. I hope I did nothing wrong. I couldn’t bear to hurt an innocent animal. He had to go.
I knew he had to go.
I make my way downstairs. Pancakes and bacon and eggs are already on a plate steaming, waiting for me.
I bury Lenoxx later that day. In our backyard. And I grab a nice stone and write RIP on it in a thick Sharpie, sticking it right where I buried him. I hope he’s comfy.
My goldfish’s name is Lenoxx, but now he’s gone.
I miss those flutes that hummed
when you put your fingers to the
glass, the instrument I gave you
so I would know
when you wanted me.
an entire orchestra plays
day and night, but I am only
listening for the wind against
that purse of lips
swinging my heart
This is the regret that tastes
Like sunsets in cities too far from home,
That aches like not being where you should
And like loving who you shouldn’t.
This is the longing in your lungs
When you breathe in the wind of the ocean,
The burning in your throat
When the shower stings like rain.
This is the blue-sky-with-pink-clouds regret
That gives you nostalgia for what never was,
The bitter but beautiful regret
That smells like vanilla but tastes like it too.
It is the way love makes you smile,
And the way life makes you stop.
It is the regret of memories ended
And of memories never made.
This is the regret that stings
Like oceans on your cheeks,
That burns like salt on cut hands
And tastes like blood on scraped lips.
This is the heaviness in your chest
When that old song comes on,
The hollowness in your heart
When you drink to not think about drinking.
This is the red-eyed-in-the-snow regret
When you see your parents in the mirror,
The cold but melting regret
Of wilted roses that still need water.
It is the way your sister runs
And the way your brother doesn’t.
It is the regret of too much trusting,
The regret of dreaming and of almost loving.
This is the regret that feels like nothing,
Like white walls and static noise,
That hurts like numb legs dancing
And spins like dizzy moons, lost in space.
This is the lukewarm water from the sink
That you swallow without tasting,
The ringing in your ears
And the lawn mower outside your window.
This is the that’s it regret
That has no ending or moving on,
The paralyzing regret
Of a slip of fate that can never be undone.
It is the crushing weight of silence
And the weakness of your shoulders.
It is the regret of suns rising,
Of stars shining and of people dying.
Desire... music for the Soul
A lover knows only humility, he has no choice.
He steals into your alley at night, he has no choice.
He longs to kiss every lock of your hair, don't fret,
he has no choice.
In his frenzied love for you, he longs to break the chains of his imprisonment,
he has no choice.
A lover asked his beloved:
- Do you love yourself more than you love me?
Beloved replied: I have died to myself and I live for you.
I've disappeared from myself and my attributes,
I am present only for you.
I've forgotten all my learnings,
but from knowing you I've become a scholar.
I've lost all my strength, but from your power I am able.
I love myself...I love you.
I love you...I love myself.
I am your lover, come to my side,
I will open the gate to your love.
Come settle with me, let us be neighbours to the stars.
You have been hiding so long, endlessly drifting in the sea of my love.
Even so, you have always been connected to me.
Concealed, revealed, in the known, in the un-manifest.
I am life itself.
You have been a prisoner of a little pond,
I am the ocean and its turbulent flood.
Come merge with me,
leave this world of ignorance.
Be with me, I will open the gate to your love.
I desire you more than food or drink
My body my senses my mind hunger for your taste
I can sense your presence in my heart
although you belong to all the world
I wait with silent passion for one gesture one
This is spoken by Deepak Chopra
And Demi Moore