DESCENT TO THE VALLEY / AN ELEGY: LATE SUMMER'S BLEEDING OUT, ryn selene
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an elegy dedicated to death in the summertime.
july ended kneeling by the bedside wondering if i was praying right. it was the season when sunbleached memories plagued:
down by the creek, signs of god. saltwater fingers trapped in a sharkbite snarl. crane your neck. i’ll demonstrate. creation myth, horror flick. the killer’s weak to the impulse. matching scars: his collarbone, my hip. aching jaws and unzipped jeans in the backyard. stumbling through boyhood, eternal collapsing omen. all the lies my sister never told me.slow rain turned flashflood. sunburnt hands, feverish dreams. drowning in misguided love. violence cycling over. stop pulling your punches. this is our way to heaven. life grew wider, / inevitable, / in the wrong place.
unfinished summers stretch into days spent waiting for a sign. stained letters deemed holy text. frenzied whispers echoing along empty backroads and highways. the still silence of our truck. passenger side chainsmoking wishing time would erase.
final destination: the desert. my own private holy land.
i search for my god. / i find him at a grave. / he recites psalm 139:7. / outgrown resentment, has he scratched that itch yet? / this eden of mine robs me of love and devotion. / am i in the right place? / i miss the silence. / i miss a god who would listen. / this isn’t the heaven i wanted, i believe it does not want me either. / this desert is vast. / take me out of eden, i miss my god. / the only thing worth saving is death. / what if i’m the apple instead?
was it worth it?
tags: @geryone @hauntedwoman @hangsawoman
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i wrap my arms around your chest,
leaning over you, resting my chin
atop your head. i lay a kiss on that
same spot, and watch you diligently.
you scribble away at your desk,
drowning out the room
with the distinct sound of
pencil meeting paper.
subtle rays of light streak
through the window;
motes of dust dance gently.
i long to go back to those days,
waking up to you at first sight.
now,
we don't even know each other.
"the study."
d.b.a
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for the hell of it (for the plot). a poem.
i see your ghost everywhere I go
an empty seat in the back of my car
missing from your spot on the couch
in my house
in my heart
i see you fade in and out of being
flicker in my eyes, taunting me
sometimes I pretend you're there
i smile toward the seat in the back of my car
but it always fades
because there's little to smile at
when you're no more than a ghost
a flickering memory
and an ache in my heart
-k.c.
and as requested, tagging @wistfulenchantress , @gardenofrunar , @justyourlocaldisaster
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you never truly stop loving someone
doesn't matter if they hurt you or not
you just learn how to live with it
and most times,
you just find someone to love more
- dee
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Lost in a time I do not belong in
Every night you show
I look up & stare
I see your beauty
So bright
And every night I hope
I hope that she understands me
I hope that she sees me
I hope she says something about me
I hope she opens up to me
The more I hope, the more she hates me
She does not want to be spoken to gently
She does not like how soft I am with her
She hates that I seek her permission
She hates how patient I am
Still, I hope
I hope I am not lost in time
In the meantime
I'll look for you until I find you
I hope you're looking for me too
— lame
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