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Dancing BlindHand in hand
He spins me, I spin him
"You're a beautiful woman"
"More men should tell you that"
We hold each other close
And dance to Sweet Home Chicago
"You are a wonderful dancer"
"I could dance with you all night"
Round and round the dance floor
My toes are safe
"I can't believe I didn't see you last time"
"We should keep in touch"
Odd, isn't it?
That the best dancer and biggest flirt
Was the guy who couldn't see me at all
That GirlAm I "That Girl"?
"That Girl", who just broke up with her boyfriend
And is hanging out with someone new
Not 2 days later?
But when you say I'm "That Girl"
Do you understand
I broke up with him in the first place?
You don't know how miserable I was
You don't know how happy I am
With someone new
And you don't want to know
Because you are happier just calling me
SweetThe great thing about being a senior chemist is the access I have. I can order any chemical on the market. If I was a weaker person, if I just wanted to "get high", I could legally acquire either the drugs themselves or all of the components required to manufacture them. But I am not interested in "getting high" or using such base and addictive materials to feel pleasure. Such drugs only feed one sense and take away the capacity for rational thought. I prefer to experience my chemical of choice with all of my senses. My chemical of choice is ethanol.
This is not the ethanol of wine or liquor. This is pure ethanol, clear and clean. It comes in large bottles made of thick, clear glass. Large cylinders with small black plastic caps. They are a very nice shape but too large for my purposes. I gently unscrew the cap, positioning my face directly above the bottle.
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
I TriedI know you love me. You said so from the beginning.
I should have disappointed you then
Instead of disappointing you now
I tried to love you like you loved me. But I couldn't.
Unfortunately, neither could I let you go
I feel selfish, cruel, and deceitful. I know I'm breaking your heart.
I tried so hard
But it's time to let you go
Keep in Touch!
^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