Autumn Ashes, Shooting Stars by lithiuMMemoria, literature
Literature
Autumn Ashes, Shooting Stars
"We should go adventure!"
"But neither of us know this place well."
"Well, that is an adventure then, isnt it?
Lets go, lets go! Lets go get lost!!
Does it really matter where we end up?
We are here and he is I and its marvelous to be somewhere, anywhere."
He will carry his little, silver tin and a pout,
and our lost days will be spent as the greenest of his life.
He will laugh at the deer and the rabbits
as they approach at night to nibble at his cheeks,
and we will laugh until he is too tired for anything that he just lays there.
I will try to help him, but he will try to push me away
and his zombie skin will feel so cold and f
Sometimes, you feel you're losing them;
you share your bed with zombies now.
"Zombies?"
"Yeah, zombies"
"I'm fucking blind!"
Never mind, kid.
Never mind.
I Started Looking For Excuses. by lithiuMMemoria, literature
Literature
I Started Looking For Excuses.
Clear and lovely skies,
Stained with the gray specks
of inky clouds,
drifting without passing by.
Theres Mr. Self Indulgent,
his gonna take flight.
Like a windless bird
striking aeroplane window glass.
And we all hear the thud,
as he crashes.
Watching as loveless vessels collide.
Where Somebody Loves Me. by lithiuMMemoria, literature
Literature
Where Somebody Loves Me.
Inky clouds fill up the blue sky
And I welcome you in
I gotta tell you, I gotta tell you
There was this time, that I forgot to let you in
And the truth is, that I forgot to love you
And the truth is, I forgot to love you
I am
Beginning -again- to fall for this darkness
Let this hurricane in my head
Wash all of you away
Like young children
Playing in the wind, on the sidewalk
Lets begin, lets begin
Let us get carried away
Like the new
Leaves in the spring
Begging for the autumn
Let us slip, let us slip
Let us fall away
Effort? You're a dick. by lithiuMMemoria, literature
Literature
Effort? You're a dick.
Sometimes, he hides from me crawling into wall space and the tiny cracks that run like pulsing veins from the corners of our bedroom walls. He hears impossible tears and rolls his eyes as I sway to the music so low it may as well be played on mute. He hates The Beatles and its only ok because its him; he finds them boring, too peaceful but I bet its only because they swear to love more then he does. Yeah, thats it.
He is silent for days, pacing the outskirts of his bedroom wall. I pretend he has called by pretending I have missed his calls. Then when I see him again I hide the 'ImissedyouImissedyou's' scrawled across my eyes and he hugs me a
1.
"This forest, a nightmare," she whispered as I lay faking sleep. That was my very favorite part of being with her; hearing her troubles when she thought no one would be there to listen. Her voice was more than simple beauty against the velvet darkness of the morning, of course, she never knew that; I slept much more than she did.
2.
I seem to wake far less rested, the deep purple shadows that play across my face explain so. I day dream sitting by my kitchen window as I correct myself, 'our' kitchen window; well, it used to be anyway. Thats when she would dance in, wearing technicolour poetry against her snowy, milky skin as I sat with m
He reminds me not to repeat favorites
We'll never learn that way, sweetheart.
No, no, no
Behind us sits the empty bottle of whiskey
Next to him our pack of blues
We smoke, smoke, smoke
Sending signals to home
We're out dancing, always out dancing
Plastered like the walls of this seedy lounge
Deep red and moving
He reminds me not to repeat favorites
We'll never learn that way, sweetheart.
No, no, no
Autumn Ashes, Shooting Stars by lithiuMMemoria, literature
Literature
Autumn Ashes, Shooting Stars
"We should go adventure!"
"But neither of us know this place well."
"Well, that is an adventure then, isnt it?
Lets go, lets go! Lets go get lost!!
Does it really matter where we end up?
We are here and he is I and its marvelous to be somewhere, anywhere."
He will carry his little, silver tin and a pout,
and our lost days will be spent as the greenest of his life.
He will laugh at the deer and the rabbits
as they approach at night to nibble at his cheeks,
and we will laugh until he is too tired for anything that he just lays there.
I will try to help him, but he will try to push me away
and his zombie skin will feel so cold and f
Sometimes, you feel you're losing them;
you share your bed with zombies now.
"Zombies?"
"Yeah, zombies"
"I'm fucking blind!"
Never mind, kid.
Never mind.
I Started Looking For Excuses. by lithiuMMemoria, literature
Literature
I Started Looking For Excuses.
Clear and lovely skies,
Stained with the gray specks
of inky clouds,
drifting without passing by.
Theres Mr. Self Indulgent,
his gonna take flight.
Like a windless bird
striking aeroplane window glass.
And we all hear the thud,
as he crashes.
Watching as loveless vessels collide.
Where Somebody Loves Me. by lithiuMMemoria, literature
Literature
Where Somebody Loves Me.
Inky clouds fill up the blue sky
And I welcome you in
I gotta tell you, I gotta tell you
There was this time, that I forgot to let you in
And the truth is, that I forgot to love you
And the truth is, I forgot to love you
I am
Beginning -again- to fall for this darkness
Let this hurricane in my head
Wash all of you away
Like young children
Playing in the wind, on the sidewalk
Lets begin, lets begin
Let us get carried away
Like the new
Leaves in the spring
Begging for the autumn
Let us slip, let us slip
Let us fall away
Effort? You're a dick. by lithiuMMemoria, literature
Literature
Effort? You're a dick.
Sometimes, he hides from me crawling into wall space and the tiny cracks that run like pulsing veins from the corners of our bedroom walls. He hears impossible tears and rolls his eyes as I sway to the music so low it may as well be played on mute. He hates The Beatles and its only ok because its him; he finds them boring, too peaceful but I bet its only because they swear to love more then he does. Yeah, thats it.
He is silent for days, pacing the outskirts of his bedroom wall. I pretend he has called by pretending I have missed his calls. Then when I see him again I hide the 'ImissedyouImissedyou's' scrawled across my eyes and he hugs me a
1.
"This forest, a nightmare," she whispered as I lay faking sleep. That was my very favorite part of being with her; hearing her troubles when she thought no one would be there to listen. Her voice was more than simple beauty against the velvet darkness of the morning, of course, she never knew that; I slept much more than she did.
2.
I seem to wake far less rested, the deep purple shadows that play across my face explain so. I day dream sitting by my kitchen window as I correct myself, 'our' kitchen window; well, it used to be anyway. Thats when she would dance in, wearing technicolour poetry against her snowy, milky skin as I sat with m
He reminds me not to repeat favorites
We'll never learn that way, sweetheart.
No, no, no
Behind us sits the empty bottle of whiskey
Next to him our pack of blues
We smoke, smoke, smoke
Sending signals to home
We're out dancing, always out dancing
Plastered like the walls of this seedy lounge
Deep red and moving
He reminds me not to repeat favorites
We'll never learn that way, sweetheart.
No, no, no
you can't feel through fabric by Pretty-As-A-Picture, literature
Literature
you can't feel through fabric
tonight the rain becomes the earth
falling from hidden spaces in the sky and swollen clouds
i hear it make mud of dirt, and lovers of friends
and ask, quiet, where are you going but down?
im not all there in the head
youre not all there in the head, my mother says
im not all there in the head i repeat
sometimes im there in my toes and fingers and heart as well
and now - in this downpour moment- i lie on the street
so warm that i think well thats where loves gotten to
but where is your shirt n? oh someplace else
and is that a light flickering in the house across the road? hide!
i rush in soaken w
i see naked bodies in the gutter as i walk queen street at 3 am. they make love, awkward but warm in the concrete curve. i don't place their clothes. i think it is wonderful though. the heat, the heat.
my entire body is rolling from heavy to light, like the shore. my head is humming and my limbs ache dull. there is a sickness in my stomach or in my throat. i think that maybe my stomach is wanting to force itself out my throat- but i won't have that.
i walk further. there are no straight lines to follow but i picture them in my mind and still cannot walk across them. i trip, tumble on the edge of the pavement and no one sees. the alcohol pul
Dismissive eyes pasted to hands,
Quondam partners captured by obscured lens.
I disconnect and count to ten,
Shallow hearts lay beaten.
This sadness never seen,
Dear cardiac where have you been?
This release wont make for wholesome sheets,
This release wont make for it.
Take away the feeling, of feeling anything again.
She sits in tree, oscillating over what to see
If only for choice,
If only.
"...Max stepped into his private boat and waved goodbye,
and sailed back over a year, in and out of weeks,
and through a day, and into the night of his very own room..."
and I should not have let you go.
NEW ACCOUNT
herheadacomet.deviantart.com
Mann I just wanna hit this town and paint the sky with purple fish
and forget everyones:
names
and
faces.
And be like "hey im gonna marry a serial killer
and become a mass murder for him."
Cause apparently thats what I let my friends do. Go out and walk the streets with mass murders.
Yeah, I wanna forget faces, and names. I wanna forget my own name and start over, again. Actually I just wanna sleep, old habits die hard. I'm gonna go back to sleeping.
I read a few of your poems... I'm probably not interpreting them anywhere close to how you intended, but there's just something about them that makes me really like them. I've noticed a few spelling errors, but I've actually found myself enjoying the poems enough that they don't matter, so that's probably something to be proud of.
Also, I love how you sort of add on to some of the poems by writing poetry in their comments.
ha ha spelling yeah. most of the time when I'm writing spelling and punctuation don't really get a second thought. its not a good habit, i know. *shrugs* poetry, like all art is open to interpretation.
thank you so much for the comment, though. i really do appreciate it.
are you going to be posting anymore of your own work?