Comments Posted By deliriumatic

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procedure

Miss are you sure?
Positive you’d like to do this?
Go through with this procedure?

Do what you have to,
please, please,
take a finger,
take a toe,
take a limb,
take my nose.

Please, please, please.

Rid me of my soul.

» Posted By deliriumatic On 12.24.2012 @ 11:29 pm

actual

When you get down to it,
when you dig the deepest,
into the pit of the actual abyss,
you’ll see.

You’ll see lies,
white,
large,
various pieces of hearts,
shreds of humanity clinging to the hollow branches of bare limbs.

You’ll see soulless bodies, eyes glassy and skin rotten
numb to this poison radioactive air.

You get down to the pit, the actual abyss,
you’ll see where you left me.

You’ll see the little white lies, stuck in my paper calloused skin like push pins.
You’ll see the plastic encasing of large lies stuck in the back of my rotten mouth,
expect a pain stricken, desperate face.
Find a solemn, content one, knowing I had died there
in this pit, the actual abyss,
rather than with you, clouded with lies, want and the need that I can’t fulfill for you.

» Posted By deliriumatic On 12.23.2012 @ 10:07 pm

scatter

We’re scattered. In the beginning of December, it was 70 degrees and I thought of you. Dear, I hurt, I hurt. I hurt so much for you. Dear, you say, you tell me, you hurt you hurt. You hurt so much for her. You can’t have her, oh, you hurt. I can’t have you, oh, I hurt. We’re scattered on this earth, pieces disheveled, sharpened and broken and scattered on this earth. I tried to pick up the pieces dear, she did and I did. She tried, I tried. We both gave up, but you stuck with her.

We’re scattered babe, piece by piece on this earth, she can’t fix me, what makes you think she would be able to fix you?

» Posted By deliriumatic On 12.22.2012 @ 1:28 am

season

We changed like the seasons. You’re the deepest, hardest winter with the hushed leaves and the bare limbs. I’m the fall, the spring, the summer, your winter, your scorn, your guilt, your passion. You were mine, I was your season, you were mine. Seasons change, people change, we changed with them. Don’t weep.

» Posted By deliriumatic On 12.21.2012 @ 1:43 am

miracle

They say it’s a miracle that they met

Say it’s a miracle that they have what they have

Say their blessed

But others say blessings don’t come to their type

But who’s to say that they don’t?

I, for one, believe their blessed.

I just wish you would do, Dad,

And not just see them by the way they’re dressed.

» Posted By deliriumatic On 09.04.2012 @ 5:59 pm

covered

His body is covered in ink.

Not mistakes, like they think.

Just ink.

» Posted By deliriumatic On 09.02.2012 @ 2:43 pm

texture

The texture of his hair is the first thing that comes to his mind when he wakes up.

It’s in his face

In his nose.

It tickles, but he thinks he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He loves the chocolate curls, soft, and they smell just like /Harry/.

He loves Harry.

» Posted By deliriumatic On 09.01.2012 @ 1:43 pm

carbon

Carbon copies of himself, he thinks

Carbon escapes from his maw with a wince.

It hurts.

He limps to the garage and dies via carbon monoxide poisoning.

» Posted By deliriumatic On 08.26.2012 @ 11:46 am

chain

With a chain around his thin neck,

He sighs.

It’s not the same

Not as it used to be

Not with the man in his life

Not with the mates in his life

Not with the laughs

He twirls the chain and gives a faint smile and the heart monitor beeps.

He’s had the ride of a lifetime,

The mysterious one would say

As Harry slowly fades away.

» Posted By deliriumatic On 08.25.2012 @ 2:02 pm

side

Side to side

Feel the rhythym

Steadying of the heartbeat

Feel the warmth

Feel the poison

Bitter

Comforting

Slides down the throat with a scald.

» Posted By deliriumatic On 08.23.2012 @ 8:21 pm

half

Half and half of a heart

One carried by one

One carried by one

Once they meet

It becomes whole

Another person

Another soul.

» Posted By deliriumatic On 08.22.2012 @ 8:29 pm

keen

Keen is what she is not
Although she tries the hardest
It is just not her
Through blue eyes and trampled hearts
She untangles the knots in her hair
and sighs
she is not keen
She is not who she wants to be
She is her
Her is she
keen.

» Posted By deliriumatic On 06.18.2012 @ 3:44 pm

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