[x]

astronomerswhen we're together
dusk is containable; the moon in my palms
and the stars on your ceiling.

we lull the city to sleep
with our theories of life; my tongue curling
into speech.

do you remember,
when Jupiter was a silver wick, lighting its countless moons?

that night,
you balanced a cigarette off your lips,
and I watched the vermillion flame burn life
as a newborn sun;

stars forming,
planets moulding and constellations snaked
above our eyes.

i imagined
what it would be like to be curled
inside the embers – creator and destroyer
of worlds,
so close to your lips.

preludesi.
blue rose into the city backdrop
like balloons, a million for the
morning sun prelude.

ii.
i've not slept a dream
but i have cried a salty face
and letters spilled like beans
into my moleskine,
almost as virgin as i once was
with few stories between my covers.

iii.
the kettle's belly boils
like my head upon a pillow.

iv.
i am guilty for rarely finishing my tea
even when i use the small mugs;
pour, rinse, repeat.

v.
perhaps today i will play dead.

vi.
perched behind my blinds
it dawns on me that i am surrounded
by walled neighbours, strangers,
they're just preludes to lovers
the way i am always
prelude to the one.

cannibalistic cityit will eat your brain first.
you will wait for your coffee in orderly queues.
you will smile at the fake blonde receptionist at the orthodontist.
you will talk to your neighbor about the serious problem the management has with the cat infestation problem and you will agree to write a bitchy letter if something isn't done soon.

then, it will take your limbs.
your arms and legs will disintegrate into a melange of taxis and buses and metros
and your bike tires will go flat and you won't even notice.
your arms and legs will become so weak that you won't be able to hold yourself up anymore.

it will devour your eyes.
it will suck all the

leavingleaving is a can that you
kick around in the street
because it's been a long day
& it makes you feel better.

some days you kick it
harder, longer than others,
& some days there just
aren't enough cans or streets.

but the thing about leaving
is that when the
street lights come on,
you always end up going home.

summergirlNow read aloud over here. Do give it a listen, won't you?
i. summergirl,
you are crowthroated and tumbling
through the aspen grove
hair on fire with sunrise, lungs
full of sky.
eyelashes like wildflowers
and every morning brings
a new spray of freckles
and a sharper curve to your collarbones.
the cornfields hold no shadows
for your lighthouse eyes
and there are no endings in that
surefooted smile.
ii. you have grown
so fast.
autumn finds you with broken ankles
leaning on an oak branch
and watching the skies.
crow to sparrow--you are quiet.
summergirl, there is peace in silence,
perched treetop,
fallen antlers in your hands.
you will come to mourn your deer.
keep them close.
iii. by winter you have paled,
and like the streams
your eyes have frosted over.
you feel the chill--
there is no need for sight.
summergirl, th

ScribblesAnd he hated the way her portrait was painted
on the walls of his mind

so the thoughts would come and go
like little men with suitcases,
rushing through in the flurry of ideas,
in the death and birth of a dream, but they

would always
pass by her picture.

In the Death of Winterelusive daylight
pale fluorescents
humming low instead
split-cracked breathing patterns
rasping through a respirator

(her blood whispers in a hospital bed)

I.

8. somersaults in snow,we
wintered in imagination,building
igloos from the residue of storms

II.

18. i slipped on ice, and you cradled
bruises in your arms you cradled bruises
you cradled bruises on my arms

III.

28. rattled loose locks and fear of bleeding
i love(d) you and it hurts,broken bones
broken heart

we are not made of stone,she
said, and with every ounce of all his being
he said time and time again --

"i love you" reset, reset,restart

i miss the girl i almost wasi miss the girl i almost was

she sits lightly on the edge of the bed
at 4am and brushes my hair back from my
face with a touch like spiders' footsteps

her breath is like ice and
her wishes are weightless

she wraps a strand of promises around
her fingers and kisses me goodbye again
with lips like polished crystal

she waits for me at crossroads

she is always cold

leviathanit draws dragnet swath
across cool midnight's
mobius skies

creatures' eyes
locked and small
in obligatory sickle-

sockets rare
and bearing no surprise
that morning brings a puddle

brings a deluge
built to put
the world on stilts

and then slowly watch it spill
slowly watch it fill
eroded pits with all the rubble

until everything
deformed and soft
bakes naked in the mud

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.

overflowi tried to show you
all the broken bones
in the cupboard

all the cobwebs
underneath the staircase

all the schisms
and chasms
and chinks in my
a(r)mour

but
your finger touched my lips
in a curious sort of way
and you said
shh, darling,
don't say a word

none of that matters
anymore

so i tried
to shut away the
ghosts
but now they're out
and about
and coming for me

and i can't escape them
with my heart so chipped
and faded.

The hollowi.

He says, you can tell an honest man
by the run of his walk, the stalk of his step.
Laugh, then, no, no, it's not for women.
The honest woman is walking towards you
even when she walks away, he says.
Nothing can be as deep as woman
or as hollow. I cannot be woman:
I am a tangle of shallows
destined to fall the willowish
drowning men until they free.
I am the highway the honest men
use and in being used, I gain permanence.
You, you sloppy cadences and twists,
I strangle. God, you got me heady still.
But my cankerous heart pulses on
and spills lethe on grassy steppes.

ii.

His sister's tone is mechanic
and breathy. She tal

an attack that is massiveso,
here's my hair
and my knees and legs
and even some of my shoulders
and they are dressed in purple -
don't ask me why though
an artist told me
purple was dangerous
'cause purple is red and blue
and red is fire
and blue is water
and i am red
and he is blue;
it doesn't matter now
'cause
''we'' is not me and him anymore -

so,
here's your hair
and your lips
and your eyes, and just maybe
some of your fingertips
and you still don't have a colour
and maybe that's better
'cause
i'm a mess
and you're happiness

and you use
complicated words
like ''phantasmagoria'' and ''ephemeral''
and you use
cologne that smells like h

SehnsuchtOctober again;
and the curtains billow
with broken glass echoes and
Mendelssohn's bride waltzing
to better times

(ein
zwei
drei)

She becomes the rain,
and breaks her own heart as
the sound
drips
right through us.

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

Browse More Like This

Download File
TXT, 300 bytes more ▶

More from ~sickicks

The Art ThiefAt sixteen she was brilliant and adored
I do believe, although I know she lies
For knock-kneed march in desperate glory

The world is too much without us
She says--
But let no chartiable hope confuse her
For the story of replacement
Or some ill-formed offspring of feeble brain

She is not of pure ablution
But a fish half-dead from flopping
Beating poems with hoses

Surrounded, detached between finger and thumb
Humped and bloody where Enola Gay
Dropped but an atom upon Japan
And four-foot boxes
Are stopped with periods of ink

And since she is not the one dead
She thinks she knows enough of hate
And in the end she's nothing more
Than the woman

View Gallery

Featured in Groups:

#Dark-Asphyxiation
A group for morbid minds!

#artist-exposure
Club Supporting Artists

#Emo-Club
+ Emo Love +

#evoke-the-muse
Writer's Club

#Constructive101
Contructive Criticism

#ink-slingers
Writing Community

#Supporting-Artists
The Heart of Art

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

Show all (34)

Details

Submitted: November 23, 2012
File Size: 300 bytes

Link

Thumb

Statistics

Comments: 17
Favourites: 36 [who?]
Views: 457 (0 today)
Downloads: 1 (0 today)

[x]

Honeythief.

by ~sickicks, Nov 23, 2012, 11:00:19 AM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

_{_{straw-stitched and hanging
off every word--

violated:

pressing my ears
against your brittle
hives

and smoking you out}}

Honeythief.by ~sickicks

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

©2012-2013 ~sickicks

[link]

_{You surprise me with just how} perfect you are...

=DailyLitDeviations Dec 4, 2012

Your wonderful literary work has been chosen to be featured by =DailyLitDeviations in a news article that can be found here: [link]

Be sure to check out the other artists featured and show your support by

ing the News Article. Keep writing and keep creating.

Reply

~sickicks Dec 5, 2012

Awh! That's awesome! Thank you so much for featuring me.

Reply

*lantern-rose Nov 27, 2012 Professional Writer

I, just, love this. !

Reply

~sickicks Nov 30, 2012

Thank you!

<3

Reply

*lantern-rose Nov 30, 2012 Professional Writer

You're welcome! ^^

Reply

~Adonael Nov 25, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Dark...very dark!

Reply

~sickicks Nov 25, 2012

I suppose it is. I mean I really meant the entire thing to be..."violating."

Reply

~Adonael Nov 28, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

The effect was achieved

Reply

~sickicks Nov 30, 2012

Well, that's nice to hear. ^^

Reply

~Adonael Nov 30, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Reply

Previous
1
2
Next