I had the idea for this floating around in my head and couldn't decide how heart-wrenching to make it, and then I got all angsty after a massive failure at work today, and took it out on the poem. The first three lines were, actually, the non-angstified part, surprisingly enough. The title was the seed of the idea. So... yeah. Hope the aesthetics didn't suffer from the emo Blargh, blargh, blargh, never again will I spend this much continuous time in this place during the school year.
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Smiling and spread wings
And you shot him in the street
And he still loves you.
Show me reason.
Show me a coral reef,
Centuries to create
Days to blacken.
Show me ivory
Decades to grow
Seconds to harvest.
Show me reason.
Give me love
And watch me taste it, test it.
This is bitter,
Cultivated with weed killer and herbicides
So when I look for an acrid tang
I receive the dead.
Bitten by lead poisoning,
He smiles for you.
Water is eternity,
and rivers can only dilute
Pollutants in your eyes.
The essence remains because
The smoke of a smoldering gun
Stains.
Pristine colors want so badly to drip from your eyes
I’m watching it
Hearing it cry out
“Do you even love me?”
To your over-sensitive ears.
It traces where his hand traced
Down your cheek from your eyelashes
Past green sublimity
Leaving tracks as it cleans
Past your nose and past your lips
Down past them to your chin
And the past drops off and to the ground
While your hand quivers with a smoker’s cough,
Shooting again to justify
Trying to make the smile falter
Trying to break glass
Trying to kill an angel.
This wasn’t formulated
And I think I can love you, now that he’s gone
But I almost think I’d rather love him
Because of how much more he was.
Lying there, he looks like a coral reef.
I’d like you to talk to him.
You can’t harvest his ivory,
So instead give him something back.
Dropping from heaven,
Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate deserts.
Part of a drizzle that will only come now
And again.
For now
He’s dead.
And all that’s left is a bloody feather.
Does it feel… cut short?
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Carpe Diem Ad Muertum
Sieze the day, to the death. There is no potential that shall be passed by, there is no piece of glory to fall by the wayside, there is no soul to left unsaved by the brilliance of language. As writers, we are gods.
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I've found in my years here on Earth that a spine is requisite if one is to stand for anything, especially on one's own two feet.
From my philosophy class: "I don't know if you've accurately captured the subjectivity of trolls..."[/size:b70742df3a][/color:b70742df3a]
[img:b70742df3a]http://www.tabbydesign.com/crew-all.png[/img:b70742df3a]
^ ask me about this place~
From my philosophy class: "I don't know if you've accurately captured the subjectivity of trolls..."[/size:b70742df3a][/color:b70742df3a]
[img:b70742df3a]http://www.tabbydesign.com/crew-all.png[/img:b70742df3a]
^ ask me about this place~