To be honest...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group

Written February 17th 2014. Un-edited. Old.

(This is a fictional sample of writing. I do not intend to be held liable for the pleasure of writing it. All comments, likes, and more are highly favorable!)

How can I show you?

When you look at me like smooth grey pebbles,

constantly beaten to perfection by the currents of my butterflies,

that I feel sporadic and wired,

ready to jump in your confines.

To hear your voice is like being overcome by the crisp echoes that bounce between mountains,

where the harsh snow can swirl around the fortress of my heat,

as the log fire in my heart can lust for you.

There is not one who could measure up to you,

the unearthly song that vibrates my being to the beat of hoofs against damp,

spring grass.

You made me feel so special as to snipping through any darkness casted over my head,

a curse conquered and devoured because to you I was worth it.

I want to make you feel undefeatable, loved, so that the decay that surrounds you

is broken down by your aspirations with every step you take towards me.

How else can I show you, but bare my heart for your keeping,

the secrets you learn forever safe under the luminous light casted down from our heaven.

Where I will always want to belong.

Don't you get it,

I'll never go back to the time where things were just okay,

and desolate under the brisk heat of the sun.

My life before was just an innocent existence,

until happening upon you it got depth and meant so much more

(Part 2)

The War I Felt

I won't tell you how the stiches were pulled apart from the wounds you tended to,

each knot undone as the flesh stretched

My words coming out glossy,

seething under the red glare of sharpened ruby stuck out of the ground from each dagger you threw

But I got you back,

my delicate hands stained by the streaks of your life,

how I realized I not only shot you with the golden pistol,

but once through the side of your head the bullet ricochet in my skull.

All things that glowed scruntched away,

rotting together so the stench of black and brown could turn all happy things into disease stricken demons.

Roaming the pavements,

their liver spotted skin could not hide the purple veins of sickness,

as saliva flew from their angered throats, “why us.”

How before all this they were once something shimmering,

glittered allover your body to claim you,

looking up to you with bright,

doll-like eyes.

What could have been so irrisistable to you on that day,

where the aloof leaves of a fall tree said no,

besides it's sad quality in the spring,

why push on for a yes?

The downfall was inevidable, and eventually,

my flickering heat meshed away into a shallow carcuss of a fly,

laying dead in the dark dust,

the spider hanging itself by it's own thread.

There are no more leaves to be had. 


Submitted: May 20, 2023

© Copyright 2023 Silent Catastrophes. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Phenomenal imagery. Stunning and very beautiful. Poignant.

Sun, May 21st, 2023 5:01pm


my head is spinning... too many images swimming...with beauty

Wed, May 24th, 2023 4:34pm

Amy F. Turner

Love striken is quite an understatement. The excitement of something new but by the second part reality seems to set in... The other shadowy side of love. Lovely in the depictions on each side. Thank you so much for the offering.

Thu, May 25th, 2023 1:52am

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