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FuzzyHoser

Published: Dec 14, 2011

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Literature Text

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Literature

Neighbor

The old man at the top of the hill poisoned my dog when I was a child; I was warned not to make accusation. As I grew, his face gnarled; I watched him take on the look of cancer. It taught me early to leave revenge be: evil, like an unloved home, meets its end when left to fall in on itself.

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lapsed

you've eaten my clairvoyance and I've nowhere left to turn; vermin stray like fingers down my gullet. "I do not love you" are five words fit to kill: I close my teeth over my tongue.

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love

my joy in you was short lived my sorrow everlasting

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Scabbage

Crust clings to skin, puckered edges spreading red On elbows and knees, shouting out where you’ve been Raised white lines across wrists indicate attempts Salvation, damnation, maybe just blissful sleep Fog rolls in your eyes, bees buzz in your head You paint the world bright and colorful, sarcastically Because all you’ve ever known was darkness And you do like your primary colors to dream in Walk down the street, head hung low, mumbling Expecting nothing from the world, and getting it Knives in your eyes and poison on your tongue Born to be crucified; who am I to deny you? Love does not conquer all, not the likes of us Festeri

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Loveless: Butterfly-Touch

His hands are almost always cold. They are cold and they are bony. Cold, bony and big but they're soft. Not even Seimei's hands were as soft as his. Not even when all Seimei did was to pat his head or tickle his cheek with feather-light touches - not even then could the softness be compared to those touches. His hands are even calloused in places – and there are scars on them he notices when he looks closer - but even though Seimei's hands were untouched by any kind of hard work or craftsmanship they do not compare to these. His hands are big, cold and bony, but they touch him like the fluttering wings of butterflies, caressing, strok

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Tapestry

The morning is a tapestry... tripping over last night's grace, I watch you weave your skin and shake out your hair - soft teal and jonquil shadowing your cheek as the curtains part between your hands. Threads tangle as you turn, telling me dawn is a gentle lover, and the tumble of birds plaiting their soft notes lingers on the pillows where your smile is my undoing.

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Suicide

This lovely suicide - the hiss of smoke dangling between your fingers and the loss of breath that claimed your sleep. Your limbs - somnolent, wrapped against the autumn chill fingers draped with paper angels as someone you never knew tucked a lily behind your dreams. I could almost hear your skin speaking eloquent and parched as summer, wondering if you had landed somewhere holy or if god had kept you waiting.

Literature

Boiling Seas

I hope your sails burn When next you set sail And the wind fans the flames So overboard you'll go I hope the sea swallows you And drags you down slowly So you can feel every second Away from the surface I hope when you hit bottom You'll survive long enough To remember what you said When you were intoxicated I hope that once you've drunk Your fill of salt water You die full of regrets For the emptiness in your head I hope the fish feast On your tongue and teeth And the sharks leave you To be broken by the reef I hope you shatter Into a million pieces And your soul bubbles Into oblivion I hope you sail straight to Hell

Literature

literary bondage

I was bound and gagged by fifty shades of stupid.

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My little visitor

In a dream you come to me and I hold you like a baby. You purring loudly in my ear, I sense that you forgave me. I caress your head in my hand and press a kiss upon your cheek. I miss you my little one, is all that I can speak. Thank you for this flying visit, it seems you have no time. Your spirit brings me so much comfort, I know that you´ll be fine. So off you go and leave me, one time more, up over the bridge into the clouds, through the cat-flap in God`s door. 12.06.2016

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acropolis

living girl, do not build an armory out of incisors & fractured femurs do not seek to fit this throne of bones; do not shrink into the framework of this citadel feral girl, feral heart, we can scoff at those who want to live forever (immortality is fickle) but we are more than lost baby-teeth & we have words to give yet

KJfromColors on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/kjfromcolors/art/Glass-Stilts-659266847KJfromColors

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10 ways depression can say i don't love you

1. "i'm sorry i don't want to come over today." the clock reads 4pm and i roll over in my bed again. 2. "i forgot it was your birthday." i'd forgotten my own too. 3. "i promise i won't hurt myself." the ER doesn't believe it's an accident anymore. 4. you asked if i loved you. i had to sneeze and it never happened. i think you took that as a no. 5. we haven't had sex in a month. 6. we don't see your friends. we don't see my friends. i've forgotten i even have any. 7. i never answered your text. it asked if i was okay. 8. "i need you to open yourself up for me," you said. i stopped talking. 9. "what do you want from me, blood?" apparen

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7/24/13 Update:
AUDIO VERSION---> rachel-ramblings.tumblr.com/po...

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2/28/13 Update:
Published in Issue 40 of The Legendary:
downdirtyword.com/poetrypage.h...

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Another from the batch of word prompts from you lovely types.
This came from the words the dear *toxic-nebulae gave me:

stain
rut
spell

I was listening to Cropduster by Pearl Jam when I started this one...so, yeah.