[x]

CherishedI want you to worship this love
I write poems about—
I tore it out of a virgin womb
just for you,
and I bear to you now, naked,
shivering in the nervousness of flesh
exposed to a cold world.

It will suck on the breasts
of prostitutes
and kiss the lips of small-town drunks
with their whiskey-tipped breath
and hollow eyes,
and I will touch my fingers
to its precious little mouth
and feel the warm saliva
bathe my skin.

I want you to put your ear
to its unguarded chest and listen
to the murmur
of its shriveled heart,
pulsating—the warm, lively core.
A tempest, the Red Sea succumbing to Moses.
The fall of the tower

pumpkins, pogo-sticks, and lip-to-lip
dear october.

the leaves haven't fallen yet.
maybe this year, they will not.
i am sick of things dying prettier than they live.

i am walking streets full of dead carcasses
and making sure to step on them to feel the bones crack
beneath my feet and it makes me feel powerful
and alive and deadly and beautiful.

i am three months away from january
and my unfulfilled new year's resolution is still
sitting heavily on my collarbone, trickling down my ribs
melting into the soles of my shoes.

last year, i celebrated the new year in my friend's friend's apartment
in india and two minutes after the countdown was over,
people set off fire

the makers, the breakersif what
is imagined
is what
broken pieces
from echoes of stars
harmony, birthing
dischord in mind
of euphonious creation stitching
(we)
remnants together:
bone and water, light

then

(light, water
and bone)

together, remnants we,
euphonious of mind,
in dischord birthing harmony,
stars of echoes,
from pieces
broken:

what is imagined
is
what if.

polaris she was the kind of girl that filled her
chest cavity with stars and her mind with names,
never one to forget her friends of the sky.
she doodled comets and planets in the margins of her papers
where hearts with arrows and initials should have been.
rockets boosted her dreams into the sky, and
she insisted the martians take teeth from under her pillow, not fairies.
she hoarded her chuck e cheese tickets,
even went as far as to dig them out of couch cushions
in order to fill her night sky with glow-in-the-dark stars
so her friends would never leave her even when
mommy and daddy forgot to tuck her in.
sleepless nights were sp

(almost) like being in loveby the time you begin to miss her,
she'll already be lost.

she is breathing like woodwind,
plucking stray hairs like harp-strings-
but no melody is sung; and no melody is heard.
you played hard-to-get with the porcelain girl,
as wisps of her neglected words haemorrhage,
swallowed down by deaf ears.
you wanted a chase;
but she's been caught before you've begun,
and now she's choking back her tears to know she's not alone,
as you bite through the ribbons and lick the innocence away
from the girl that's just pretty enough,
before she's forgotten, completely.

biopsyput me under, cover my face, stuff my lungs with your chemical lies.

if they were to take me apart,
slice open my chest,
peel back the skin keeping me whole,
they would find:

a. one heart, slowly ticking.
(they would not find anything,
but they would have to say they did.
after all, girls can't live without a heart.
they forget that i'm not the first:
a score of girls walking even though
they should have faded long ago.)

b. each rib curved so perfectly,
a shield around my lungs.
(a cage, keeping my breath from bursting
out of my skin. know that this is just me,
held together by nature,
unable to lose control of myself.)

c.

Clichei. true love

& you were that one famous line
of a love poem – 1863 sonnet
scripted down your spine, verses
of sternum & shuddering heartbeat.

i remember the sheets twisted blue
as the eventide, your eyes like thelassia,
that species of ocean grass. we swayed
to the music of galaxies colliding.
our song was the day the tides
finally curled round the moon's face.

ii. cancer

eventides, thelassia eyes, moon
great and heavy as that one lucky coin
that refused to land, to grant a wish
or let luck decide for us. there were
star crabs scuttling under your
oragami skin. & i never realized
all the ways that you folded
until t

Open EyesI want mountains to tickle my shoulder blades
and make me giggle.
I want to wear sunshine like a scarf;
To spend days hanging onto each of
your words
in turn,
tasting them like clouds taste
lightning

end life, end.when i was almost god,
and my fingers were honeycombs
woven into embroidered dreams,

is when my breath danced
in your hair,
(never to be tamed)
your lashes weighing down your eyelids,
joining fingers with the ones below.

a wish escapes from between your teeth
(a cavity in the brain,
it's acid, it's acid. it's acid.
pleasant thoughts poison the mind)
end, life. end.

(wade into the ocean,
salt fills your lungs that shrivel up
like slugs in the desert sun)

sleep.

To My Insecurities:Why do you pester me so,
Leaving me to second-guess all that is well?
It is you whom I grow tired of fighting,
Always struggling against what makes me shine.

Once again I have the razorblade blues,
And I'll say it once more: I'm so sick of bleeding for you,
Of pretending this mask is my own flesh.
But my Tears are my blood, and my veins ache every time
Logic comes creeping into the crimson reflections,
It aches until I grant upon myself the ability to breathe.

And I won't deny that it is those first hours of morning that are my treasures,
Those times where my reflection is everything I ever wanted to be;
Reality and yourself, you

Why?Why do they call it "the sting of betrayal"
If it feels as if, somewhere inside, a part of you is
Burning?
As if a part of you is attached, and tears itself out
To trail behind their leaving feet?

I don't understand why the knife must be implanted in the back
When you've trusted them enough to present it to them,
Leaving yourself vulnerable and unprotected to the person you never thought
You'd have to be wary of.

Perhaps this is why it hurts so much…

I shall remain furious that they chose to stab me between the shoulder blades
Instead of in my heart.

InvisibleI'm crying out
With all I have.
My lungs are aching,
My throat is protesting.
Please,
Tell me you hear my words.
"Don't leave me here alone".

It's as if I don't exist.
My voice,
My being,
is invisible to your eyes.
You stare right through
Me as if I'm made of air.
Ignored and belittled,
I feel so alone.
Though you are right before me,
Though you show no signs of ever leaving me,
I still cry until I'm hoarse
These words I need to scream.
"Don't leave me here alone".

Can you even hear me?

Starlight The stars stretch on endlessly
Into a universe that is unknown to me.
What lies beyond the veil that clouds our human sight?
I want to know.
I'm tired of being left in the dark.

The glowing circles of majesty
Never cease to capture my attention.
In the nights my heart screams out,
I take comfort in their presence.
No one else understands my agony
As well as the sky above.

Everything is pointless now,
Including my own existence.
The date of my fate is looming closer
Without anyone to stop its progress.
Though the emotion of fear is to be expected
I feel nothing.

In this night I look to the stars
I treasure this last sight,

Crumbling FacadeHeart screaming,
Crying out for release,
Emotions wound around its surface as it
Breathes life inside your chest.
They pull tighter,
Like strings on a puppet;
The pain rips through your being,
But nothing can erase your obedient smile
And your rosy, dimpled cheeks.
If only the tears weren't falling…

Selfish or Selfless?I'll believe all your lies,
Please just say you love me.
You don't have to say it again…
But tonight, please just tonight,
Ease my aching soul.
If it troubles you so you don't have to say it,
I don't want to force you,
However can you then just hold me tight?
If only for a second;
I know you don't want your friends to see.

And here's what I get for being needy and
Selfish;
A broken heart and a wilting soul.

Browse More Like This

Download File
HTML, 1.0 KB more ▶

Featured in Groups:

#BleedingHeartsPoetry
A Poetry Club

#poetry-book

#dA-Literature
Write to live, and live to write

#Eerie-and-Enchanting
Art from the Heart

#Insanely-Artistic

#LooseLacesPoetry
Poetry Feeds Our Souls

#The-Poetry-Cafe
Poetry and Writers Welcome!

#Literature-Realm

Show all (28)

Details

Submitted: July 30, 2012
File Size: 1.0 KB

Link

Thumb

Statistics

Comments: 16
Favourites: 20 [who?]
Views: 246 (0 today)
Downloads: 4 (0 today)

[x]

The Juncture of Skin and Bone

by ~Nullibicity, Jul 30, 2012, 7:00:07 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

_{Ripples of rib, moving smoothly over hills of bone,
an expansion of skin dipped and concave. such
irregular habits give way to soft sinking
skin, mountainous ridges piercing through malnourished flesh like
enamel slowly leaking out bone; traitorous and seemingly backwards.

Always shrinking—hunching inwards due in part to
will and the structured stretch of spine.
and what simple thought ever plagued the soul, until
ridicule spilled from pore and pore,
enabled and assiduous.
now plastic measuring tapes
entrap bare imperfect waists, pulling tighter, tighter, and tighter
still. stripping the skin clear with gut wrenching heaves,
spilling acidic bile over sterile porcelain floors.

_{and it's never enough.}}

The Juncture of Skin and Boneby ~Nullibicity

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

_{I decided to write a poem about bulimia-anorexia. It's a concept that has been prodding at my mind for days. I wanted to do it with an acrostic, too, and chose the term "raise awareness". It's a rather solemn piece, but I am quite proud of it.

As always, feedback is appreciated.
_________________

_{My inspiration would be here, but warnings are advised. This was a picture set to be involved in a magazine. She is indeed anorexic, and so I don't wish any of you to click on it and to be disturbed. You have been warned. click}

--------
EDIT: featured here}

love 1 1

~~joy 0 0~~

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~v3n0m607 Aug 26, 2012 Student Digital Artist

O.O this... was ....Awesome! I love all the comparisons between the body and mountains and things like that

you were always the best at making an entire poem out of a phrase and could actually make it make sense. This one makes me want to get back into writing but I don't have much inspiration so it is difficult :/

~Nullibicity Aug 27, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I'm sorry to hear you don't have much inspiration as of late

Perhaps looking for it in other art will help? I always find conceptual photography to give me inspiration (of course it depends on the photographer and the subject), as well as pieces of pure and raw emotion.

I'm happy you liked it! I took great pleasure in writing this piece, as it was the first bit of strong inspiration I'd had in a while. I think it turned out pretty good, too

~v3n0m607 Aug 27, 2012 Student Digital Artist

It turned out awesome

I love all the imagery you get when you read it.

Yah it stinks, I wrote something a while ago but have been to lazy to revise it :/

~Nullibicity Aug 27, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Well thanks

It's important to do it when you actually want to. I find this reaps better results, and gives you a bigger sense of satisfaction. Of course, when you are feeling up to it, I would advise you to go back and try to tweak it until it's to your liking! I've produced pretty good works from some of my worst poetry (because the idea itself wasn't half bad!).

~v3n0m607 Aug 28, 2012 Student Digital Artist

Yah it was just a quick thought I had one time abd typed it up quick in my notepad app on my phone. It is horrible right now lol

~Nullibicity Aug 28, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Well I wish you luck when you decide to, if ever, revise it

~v3n0m607 Aug 30, 2012 Student Digital Artist

I will one of these days lol

=schongslipper Jul 31, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

As always, simply beautiful metaphor and imagery. I have to say the last line is a bit cliche, but that doesn't detract from the piece. The fact that it's an acrostic makes it even better because it's such a subtle touch. I love how you challenged yourself to that form and it worked so beautifully. Your meter is excellent in the piece which is something I've seen not as good in other pieces, so good job. I love "now plastic measuring tapes/entrap bare imperfect waists...." Great piece.

~Nullibicity Aug 5, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I know... I wanted to hit my head on my computer keyboard for ending it in such a way, but I could think of nothing else that worked. That, and however cliched it is it seemed to fit with what I was trying to say

. I am really happy, however, that it did not distract from the piece, so thank you very much for that bit of information! It is much appreciated, as well as the rest of your wonderful comment!

I am pleased to hear my meter was good in this piece! I honestly never know how to get that beat going, so every poem it's as if I am starting over and discovering a random beat... if that makes sense. I shall try to work harder on that!
Gah! For you to like that line means a lot to me! That was the one I was unsure of! I was a little on the fence whether it broke the somewhat formal tone, or if it worked. The fact you liked it eased my worries

thank you!

=schongslipper Aug 11, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

As for meter, I say if you can have a different rhythm for each poem, that's fantastic. One trick: Try reading your piece aloud to see if you got the meter right (or whispering or mouthing or something). You can that way hear the beat and tell if it's off.

That line kind of draw the reader further in; it doesn't break the tone at all. It sort of seems like she's being more honest, letting you in.

And as always you're very very welcome =]

More from ~Nullibicity

Featured in Groups:

Details

Statistics

The Juncture of Skin and Bone

The Juncture of Skin and Boneby ~Nullibicity

The Journal Portal

Polls

What is your preferred drawing software?

deviantART [dee·vee·un'nt·ART]

Keep in Touch!

Deviousness

Add Media

Style