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Things Left UnsaidSo many things were left unsaid.
I never got the chance to talk.
You were always yelling at me.
You talked me into things.
You made me do things.
You tricked me.
You made promises.
And never kept any.
And I trusted you.
With everything I was.
But the girl you knew is gone.
She grew up.
She got stronger.
She made friends.
Something you never where.
Friends don't use each other.
She could have cried.
She could have begged.
For you to stay.
But she didn't.
Something changed that day.
She became independent.
She doesn't need you anymore.
But you seem miserable.
Do you regret leaving?
Do you miss me?
Do you miss us?
You had your chance.
And threw it away.
Now I'm gone.
Now I'm free.
Part 1PART 1
I could feel the warm salt water splashing against my legs and belly as I ran. It was exhilarating. I loved the feeling of the sand between my toes and the wind in my fur. Which made me just want to run more. The warmth of the sun started to fade as it set. A small cliff came into view so I set of towards it. I climbed the damp, smooth rock as the waves crashed around it.
My dad used to bring me here when I was just a pup. He used to tell me that this was the most magical place. The sound of the waves and seagulls was so soothing. Like a sweet symphony. I would come here and find him howling though I could never tell what or who he was howling for. This was his place. Our place. That is until he left.
My mind deals with
Overcomes my judgement
Today it's no different
I can't take it anymore
Observing my image but
Nothing is revealed
Before My Mouth Told You I Was Sickbefore my mouth told you i was sick, there were
the fingers that wrapped around cups and cups of tea.
i sipped oceans.
i sipped the seven seas
and my ribs were the rainstick that
sent shivers pattering like some
down your swaying, praying spine.
there were the hurricanes.
that is what you came to call them,
my eyes burst into lightning,
my chest quaked with thunder,
when my ribs heaved with the monsoon
that was my breath
until i collapsed, shaking, into your
beach house arms.
there were the missing beats.
sometimes my heart slowed, stopped,
staggered home drunk to gasp morse-code warnings
between my aching ribs.
sometimes the stillness was so perfect
(and alone so tempting)
that i wished for the beat
to wander far and
to be forever lost.
there were the ribs, and the collarbones.
i was a mountain range with
blood in my rivers,
you saw the carrot sticks
(oh god how could you)
and you let me feed myself with
there was the blood i was suppose
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
To the person who holds my best friend's heart...I know that is is kind of weird
But I felt that I should write this down.
I need to tell you what I feel
And tell you what he means to me.
He's my best friend and he's a good man.
Please, give him the love and respect he deserves.
He may seem goofy but he's very sweet.
I know this because he was always there for me when I was sad.
Now, I know that you're not bad
Cause he would never choose someone who's mean.
But I still want to tell you just in case you forget in the future;
Please don't break his heart.
He's been through so much
And he doesn't deserve something like that.
He is the kind of person who smiles even when he's hurt by others
And would take any pain for the people he loves.
I know, I've witnessed it.
I know he may seem kind of childish sometimes
But don't let it get to you.
It's just his way of expressing himself.
He's very caring and I'm sure he'll do anything to make you happy.
He doesn't look like it but he's very kind and thoughtful.
He'll put your needs before h
in which I gain sentiencesave room
for doubt, in the silence between
religious guilt and stolen
body heat. I am made of helium.
in my dreams they
pop me and
watch me flutter. I wonder if everyone
else’s head is so congested as mine,
hyperactive with inattentive people.
you are never serious--
he stares at me in a different
set of eyes; there are words
I cannot say, there are
things I cannot tell you.
(twice a week
I watch the people I love
leave me for good.
spiders in my throat,
you're wearing isadora's scarvesoh, i hope you never love me, satyr-girl.
misanthropic mistress, i am coughing up
crows & bleeding blue beneath pocked
vessels; these worn teeth may be ink-
cavities, but i have never been your poet boy.
Can you look deeper?You see that girl you just bullied?
The one you harassed over her choice of art?
The art of a man beating a woman to death?
She saw her father kill her mother when she was five.
You know that man who likes to photograph himself in dresses?
The one you called a homo because of his choice of clothing?
Well, his parents wanted him to be a girl instead of a boy.
So they made him dress like that everyday to pretend he was a girl.
You know that woman who writes stories about child rape?
The one you bullied until she didn’t know how to cope with life anymore
Her uncle has been in jail for the past eleven years.
He raped her daily for seven years of her life.
What about that guy who favored abstract artwork?
Do you remember him he liked to use the colors red and black a lot.
He was nearly beaten to death when he was fourteen.
He only knows nightmares because he remembers seeing his blood on the wall.
What about me? Do you remember me? Even just a teensy little bit?
You bullied me because
3:00amThere's always fear amidst his joy,
a little voice in the back of his head,
warning him of everything that might go wrong.
Yet, the nightly ghosts and the monsters
who lurk and scratch the floor under her bed,
were just the myths of a man who
wanted an excuse to hold her each night.
He doesn't think like this anymore,
he lies awake and ponders as the shadows
sway in their tribal dance along the walls,
and wholeheartedly hopes, that they
will rip a frustrated scream out of his throat
one that's loud enough to conceal the nagging voice.
"Oh my boy, haven't I warned you?
Love is a sin, don't come near
fairy-tales are only meant for books,
but you dove right in, driven by a foolish need.
You've tasted the bitter end of a blade
roles switched, now you're the monster she fears."
"She says your smile is beautiful,
like a sun shining so bright, a strength through your pain,
yet she fails to see the poisonous thorns
you nurtured with treason and grudge.
She doesn't know
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More