Until the ovum opened like ghost skin,
Pooled like the ocean
And poured from my mouth.
I wasn’t aware of how god-like
We sinners could easily be.
Hieros gamosIn the wild, wind washed, beneath the hills below the skies,Hieros gamos by dy-ad
This temple is a body.
Came upon his inert rest. With lips still reddened and warm,
I sought breath in the valley of his mouth.
But empty spirits guide this house.
Cupped his chest to mine, captured by his musk
My lungs expand to weep.
Father, my brother, incest of kings.
Essence in your arms,
Names you bore for me.
ArmisticeHeadlong into war. Thrust at the dead men standing across the wall.Armistice by dy-ad
Melted down like bullets, they steady themselves. We steady ourselves.
An explosion of great Anarchy. A burning saint’s scream.
A collision of fools, a glorious bloodshed.
Shod in whimpered pleas,
And a smirk at my brother’s dead god.
August's End FeatureI haven't done a feature in the longest time so I thought it would be nice to do one, especially because I have found so many works on here I love recently! Almost all of them have under 50 favorites but they are all fantastic in their own ways. In no particular order:August's End Feature by blackdahlia911
:thumb322346017: Skeletons by Shannon-Sweeney old rabbits die and young rabbits die too by KeanuWantRoomService blue light by KeanuWantRoomService Practicing by RainySkyz skin. by arabesque-o The Blues by Concora Marionette's Grief (Collaboration) by icy-moon-shadow Cookiecutter Houses by icy-moon-shadow The Tap on the Leaves by dy-ad :thumb307148481: :thumb318715377: . by L0NE-W0lf Fable by Concora ButterfliesInChemicalStarlight by little-swift
A little shameless self-promotion:
helium balloon lungs by blackdahlia911 I dreamt of a flood and you were the water by blackdahlia911 i want you because i shouldn't want you at all by blackdahlia911
on loving writerstalk to me like a childon loving writers by forestmeetwildfire
but love me like a writer,
love me unabridged,
love me with all my footnotes,
postscripts and appendixes.
love me when i am alive at night,
tangled thoughts keeping you awake,
the sounds of my scribbling
scratching in your ears.
love me with all my imperfections,
the ones that allow me to run away
with my imagination
and the ones that frankly
you just can't stand.
love me when i interrupt you
to write something down,
or when i stop listening
because my brain is running on
metaphors, not oxygen.
i am sorry or
not sorry to tell you this,
but i will keep writing
until i run out of words
(and then some)