New poems on the way
Hopeless:]
Two are already posted: Formaldehyde and Comatose. Both, interestingly, are related to hospital-like atmospheres and near death experiences. Take them as you will.
I hope you like them.
-Tiffany
Newest
Heart RateFor years and years of wasted days an actress grinned in darkened plays. Her monolouges and lies rehersed; perfection in the darkest curse. Her heartbeat counted out the weeks but even then, the blood would leak. Her rosey lips shed crimson tears; she cut her wrists to mark the years. And slowly, though her heart was live, it beat her for her desperate lies. A working clock of time run out, the blood poured quickly from her mouth. That "pretty" face of cream and rose turned white, as light as colour goes. The lies were thHeart Rate
by ~ThebutterflyCries
FormaldehydeThose tables made of welded steel and doctors dressed in white. They prod me though I shouldn't feel and shouldn't see the light. Filled needles of formaldehyde the corpse's rotting skin still feeling, though the heart has died I sense the change within. No heartbeat cheers the doctors on no breath to keep the time and though my hands are still and cold the life that's left is mine. What blood pours from my tearing flesh? What scream lies out of reach? What vessels do they rip and mash? The pain my voice would preacFormaldehyde
by ~ThebutterflyCries
Comatosein an instant, the black is home incapable of fallen tears this is the land in which I roam with darkened trees my demons comb where I've been lost for several yearsComatose
and though I have shut out depression it's taken my happiness, too. incapable of emotion; lost without certain devotion I find myself turning to you.
but what would this life support do? when I am unable to ask and that which inhibits my view would only disable yours too too harmful when taken to task.
So now, with this favor in mind I settle in the dark to wait &n
by ~ThebutterflyCries
LetheSlowly those fallen tears, like water, flow so sullen and sluggish, their carv-ed bed along my face and cheeks, the mem'rys go as though I had not willed, but pushed them so, those that turn the thoughts inside my head To burn like fire, they scar my tainted face with thoughts like wood, like fuel, the angry things so strewn about, though leaving not a trace as they flow, beauty in an ugly place and concern-ed not with the pain it brings I have so succumbed to an angry thirst and had at once known the pain to subside but yet I've felt not a smallLethe
by ~ThebutterflyCries
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- Current Residence: A pretty little hick town.
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You're pins, I'm needles, let's play.
I cannot pretend I will not surrender to these dreams in my head.
The moon is dark and I can't sleep
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Don't take this personally, but you smell like an ice cube.
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Don't take this personally, but you smell like an ice cube.
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Showna was here.
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Don't take this personally, but you smell like an ice cube.
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"to get squares, you gotta give squares" (Robert Fischer)
blog | T Y P | Tom-R
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My noodles are delicious.
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