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ten seconds earlierthree eyes watch from the wall
as the tower rises by the window
a roar in the distance
a butterfly in the corner
Revelation 6I watched the first thunder,
held a bow
and bent on conquest.
I was given peace
to make men slay
I called out "Judge!"
then was killed,
made blood red and fell.
The curse of over-thinkinga split second
from the crash at the top of the road
everyone talks about for months afterward,
your mind and mouth mumble in
a discordant harmony
one says yes, the other
no, time to confer
on implications and allusions
and taking things
the wrong way
i.e., reading too much into an arrangement
sometimes even your stutter
it is all you can do to catch
There are only three chaptersA war should come
in the near, in the far
it is growing
in the heat of this night
I remember you,
the eyes deep in the forest:
there, where the knights broke their lances:
the magnificence of colourful flowers
it is nothing, only a reflection
in grey puddles it is dripping
the brooklet creeps down from dead groves
It is cold – I do not feel it.
FisherwomanI've been dreaming of
fishing from a crumbled tower
grey stone rough on my thighs
as the line sinks
the float dunks itself
for a taste of drowning
the fish breathes air
and it only occurs afterward
that I hate the taste
I AmI am single,
but I am loved.
I am not a genius,
but I am intelligent.
I am not breathtaking,
but I have beauty.
I am not a saint,
but I am kind.
To the world,
I am not perfect.
But for someone,
Two Years LaterShe asked him gently, “Do you love me?”
In his long silence, she found closure,
And left her love under a willow tree.
lung canceri will die with your name on my lips
because there is nothing else i'll need to say.
you are my coffin, my funeral pyre.
as my bones disintegrate, popping and snapping,
you will greedily swallow my ashes
until nothing is left of me but secondhand smoke.
i've danced with you, love, across hospital tile,
the scent of antiseptic cloying as valentine's chocolate.
you dipped me into unconsciousness,
and i willingly closed my eyes.
the intrusion of your scalpel teeth no longer scares me.
you, my rigor mortis soul mate, always take me under.
your tent of frostbitten shelter pulls me down, an anchor,
while i gag on pills too abstract to save me.
forgive me, lungs, of my cigarette abuse,
but i've found happiness in a reaper's cloak.
i find comfort in these carcinogens.
i've made my nest in a swaying tree,
my body destroyed by the nauseous rocking.
they smile at me with pity in their eyes,
scribbling nonsense on those jaw-like clipboards.
their crisp, stark white world still has faith in me,
you've been dead for a year, my deari met you on december 21st,
the longest night of the year.
you had solstice eyes: cold, dark, alluring.
i knew you were not meant to last,
powerful as a gale but fragile as
the tulip stems you snapped,
a sickening cycle of you,
an overwhelming tidal wave.
they say two wrongs will never make a right,
but i made so many bad choices that
i wound up back where I began.
it was too easy to love you,
but getting you to love me back was impossible.
i clawed at your chest until I struck blood,
until my nails split into shards.
you were born a phantom,
and i, your corpse.
holding onto you felt like drowning in quicksand;
i fought but always sank into your arms.
i breathed in dirt, breathed in dust, and
found my organs choked with you,
smothered by your existence.
you sucked out my breath
every time i kissed you.
i died every day with your hand
knotted in my hair.
You left on june 21st,
the longest day of the year.
i bit down sorrow and deconstructed
the labyrinth within me,
the one you hadn't th
I give upSometimes
I try so hard to change for people
Do what they want,
Listen to their critiques,
Try to be a good friend..
But you know?
Everyone makes mistakes,
is not perfect,
is tired and stressed and slips,
It is never good enough,
no matter what I do,
nobody ever sees what I changed,
everybody always only sees my faults.
I get criticised for what I did wrong,
but never acknowledged for what I changed,
I give up.
I don't have the energy anymore,
to always justify myself,
to always go up and be the one,
that is bad,
to always be the one,
Sometimes I think I'm better off without anyone...
Eye of the StormI believed I could make the wind blow,
and force the moon to shine at night,
create rainbows just by thinking,
and hold tea parties for fairies in July,
I was the queen of my own graceful lands.
Yet, I grew old and realized,
I am the kind of girl who'd trip and fall,
often for stepping on her own feet.
My crown of diamond and gold
now a rusted piece of bronze,
I lost my throne to treason, my kingdom to hate,
I became the eye of a hurricane,
loaded with mishaps I need to atone.
I felt the soft touches of angels,
and lost my own wings to demons who could crush stone.
Felt the scorching tears run so often,
I knew I must have hit bottom low.
I had nothing holy, no one to call dear,
but here I am, the starting point of my own storm.
I felt fear, clung to shadows,
encased my heart within marble walls,
and threw the keys that can unlock my soul.
So many chances I've lost with no love to seek,
and so many people I turned my back to.
I let the darkness gnaw through my bones.
A stranger walked up to me today...A man walked up to me and asked me for a cigarette… I told him I didn't smoke anymore, and he asked me why? ––I answered "because the person I used to smoke with, isn't around anymore", and he replied…"that's why I smoke."
A woman walked up to me and asked me for drugs, I replied "I have several in store…his eyes, his smile, his hands"…she whispered, "that's not a drug"…and I laughed as I said.. "if only you knew."
A child walked up to me today and asked me to play a game, I told them I was too tired to play games, i'd been playing for years, they replied…"then you must be a pro!", to which I said "yes…a pro at losing."
An old woman stared at me today, and I asked her…"is something wrong?" she answered "I was about to ask you the same question."
© Rocio Belinda Mendez
Blowing a featherThe way she blows this feather
All of them screw their knees,
Falling for her.
Blessed by a blue-eyed breeze
All of them crave an eternal embrace.
Gardens of golden flowers
Reflected stars on the water's surface
So many gifts she justly deserves
The rose-coloured feather,
Gift from heavens,
Brings daylight to a sinner
She's an angel without wings
Broken VoiceboxI am a broken voice box
on a dusty shelf
because I couldn't express myself
in words you understand.
I told you there was beauty in the complexity,
in discovery and secrets.
That everything didn't have to fit
and that dreaming was how I lived.
I gave myself fairy wings and surfed the clouds
past the edge of the map;
Fell into another world,
My cheek still has the scar,
from when you hauled me to dry land
and told me I had to breathe air now;
Imagination was reserved for children
and that my toy box was empty.
You were an anchor I had no need for
and I think I'm still
drowning in that shattered innocence.
I don't want to be a tree;
I want to be a bird.
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More