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ForgetfulSometimes, the woven mess that is my brain
Decides to go on vacation,
And I can’t seem to remember who I am.
Because sometimes we lose ourselves
When we’re finding ourselves,
It happens more out of necessity than coincidence.
So when I’m forgetting what I was
And remembering who I’ll become,
I’ll remember that forgetfulness isn’t all bad.
A MemoirNow recently, I’ve been getting the same question no matter where I go, even if I know the person. They’ll look me dead in the eye and say: “who ARE you?” I’ll calmly return the gaze and without missing a beat tell them what they want to know. “Well my good man, if you do insist so voraciously, allow me to first tell you that I was born in the winter of 1994. Some called me a miracle but I like to think of myself as a happy coincidence, since nine months prior to my birth two members of my gene pool may have been getting their freak on. After this miraculous coincidence, nothing happened in my life until the ripe age of three. This is when I learned that if you run off when your mother isn’t looking, she probably won’t notice until you’ve snuck into an empty elevator bound for the top floor of a hotel. I also learned not five minutes later, that she’ll find you when she hears your sobs of terror getting louder and louder as th
G:Something StrangeFor the first time in my
Something purely curious has happened
Something terrifying, yet fantastic.
With each passing breath
I want to reach out and touch it,
To question its tangibility
To see if it's really there, or just my deluded mind.
But do I really care
Whether something so curious,
Is really real when it teases
All the while remaining so... Intriguing.
Positively GlowingDown in a daisy-strewn valley in the middle of nowhere, lay a humble town with humble people and quite humble houses. The weather was nice and the townsfolk even nicer; they’d give their life for a stranger in need. At the same time every day, darkness was drawn over this quaint little town, with men and women alike turning in to rest their sleepy little heads. Not a sound was heard in the middle of the night; the wind was calm and even the mice had curled up to bed. But there was always one light on at the end of the block, a blinding beacon to all who dared to look out at the foreboding sight.
It was an unearthly glow, like one straight out of a movie or haunted house. The house itself wasn’t natural, with its crooked wooden shingles and rusted iron bars and door; it resembled a prison more than it did a house. No one dared to make advances on the house, let alone tear it down, despite how uneasy the light made the townsfolk each night. They just kept on with their daily
NaPo 2013 #30: UnconventionalI may seem normal to all of you on the outside, but the truth is… My body is not conventional, for it runs on steam. Every morning now I’m woken up by the rattling of my core before a spine made out of curved rebar forces me out of bed like a vampire out of his coffin. My core is still shaking, rattling, rattling, RATTLING with every step!! The noise is infuriating against my hinged chest that pops open so I can cease my morning torture with a scoop of glorious coal. My heart and lungs begin to pump and circulate, detoxify and purify in their metal husks, for even my organs run on steam. My heart, is a complex machine of brass valves and gears that you can hear venting with a loud *HISSSS* between every few beats of its brass body.
My lungs resemble airtight reservoirs more than anything else. The steam moves only when I do just enough so I can keep living and if you look carefully you might even be able to see the metal pipe coming out of the back of my neck where I
NaPo 2013 #29: SuccessThink what you can about me,
Say what you will about me,
I don’t care what you do.
Because unlike someone,
Who makes a living out of belittling,
I will succeed.
NaPo 2013 #28: Point of ViewGive a man a mirror,
You fill him full of vanity.
Give a woman a mirror,
You let her see her beauty.
Give a bird a mirror,
You make it think it has competition.
NaPo 2013 #27: ExistentialistThis is made for the existentialist at heart,
So if life has no meaning at all,
Then why are these words even here?
I AmI am single,
but I am loved.
I am not a genius,
but I am intelligent.
I am not breathtaking,
but I have beauty.
I am not a saint,
but I am kind.
To the world,
I am not perfect.
But for someone,
Two Years LaterShe asked him gently, “Do you love me?”
In his long silence, she found closure,
And left her love under a willow tree.
lung canceri will die with your name on my lips
because there is nothing else i'll need to say.
you are my coffin, my funeral pyre.
as my bones disintegrate, popping and snapping,
you will greedily swallow my ashes
until nothing is left of me but secondhand smoke.
i've danced with you, love, across hospital tile,
the scent of antiseptic cloying as valentine's chocolate.
you dipped me into unconsciousness,
and i willingly closed my eyes.
the intrusion of your scalpel teeth no longer scares me.
you, my rigor mortis soul mate, always take me under.
your tent of frostbitten shelter pulls me down, an anchor,
while i gag on pills too abstract to save me.
forgive me, lungs, of my cigarette abuse,
but i've found happiness in a reaper's cloak.
i find comfort in these carcinogens.
i've made my nest in a swaying tree,
my body destroyed by the nauseous rocking.
they smile at me with pity in their eyes,
scribbling nonsense on those jaw-like clipboards.
their crisp, stark white world still has faith in me,
you've been dead for a year, my deari met you on december 21st,
the longest night of the year.
you had solstice eyes: cold, dark, alluring.
i knew you were not meant to last,
powerful as a gale but fragile as
the tulip stems you snapped,
a sickening cycle of you,
an overwhelming tidal wave.
they say two wrongs will never make a right,
but i made so many bad choices that
i wound up back where I began.
it was too easy to love you,
but getting you to love me back was impossible.
i clawed at your chest until I struck blood,
until my nails split into shards.
you were born a phantom,
and i, your corpse.
holding onto you felt like drowning in quicksand;
i fought but always sank into your arms.
i breathed in dirt, breathed in dust, and
found my organs choked with you,
smothered by your existence.
you sucked out my breath
every time i kissed you.
i died every day with your hand
knotted in my hair.
You left on june 21st,
the longest day of the year.
i bit down sorrow and deconstructed
the labyrinth within me,
the one you hadn't th
I give upSometimes
I try so hard to change for people
Do what they want,
Listen to their critiques,
Try to be a good friend..
But you know?
Everyone makes mistakes,
is not perfect,
is tired and stressed and slips,
It is never good enough,
no matter what I do,
nobody ever sees what I changed,
everybody always only sees my faults.
I get criticised for what I did wrong,
but never acknowledged for what I changed,
I give up.
I don't have the energy anymore,
to always justify myself,
to always go up and be the one,
that is bad,
to always be the one,
Sometimes I think I'm better off without anyone...
Eye of the StormI believed I could make the wind blow,
and force the moon to shine at night,
create rainbows just by thinking,
and hold tea parties for fairies in July,
I was the queen of my own graceful lands.
Yet, I grew old and realized,
I am the kind of girl who'd trip and fall,
often for stepping on her own feet.
My crown of diamond and gold
now a rusted piece of bronze,
I lost my throne to treason, my kingdom to hate,
I became the eye of a hurricane,
loaded with mishaps I need to atone.
I felt the soft touches of angels,
and lost my own wings to demons who could crush stone.
Felt the scorching tears run so often,
I knew I must have hit bottom low.
I had nothing holy, no one to call dear,
but here I am, the starting point of my own storm.
I felt fear, clung to shadows,
encased my heart within marble walls,
and threw the keys that can unlock my soul.
So many chances I've lost with no love to seek,
and so many people I turned my back to.
I let the darkness gnaw through my bones.
A stranger walked up to me today...A man walked up to me and asked me for a cigarette… I told him I didn't smoke anymore, and he asked me why? ––I answered "because the person I used to smoke with, isn't around anymore", and he replied…"that's why I smoke."
A woman walked up to me and asked me for drugs, I replied "I have several in store…his eyes, his smile, his hands"…she whispered, "that's not a drug"…and I laughed as I said.. "if only you knew."
A child walked up to me today and asked me to play a game, I told them I was too tired to play games, i'd been playing for years, they replied…"then you must be a pro!", to which I said "yes…a pro at losing."
An old woman stared at me today, and I asked her…"is something wrong?" she answered "I was about to ask you the same question."
© Rocio Belinda Mendez
Blowing a featherThe way she blows this feather
All of them screw their knees,
Falling for her.
Blessed by a blue-eyed breeze
All of them crave an eternal embrace.
Gardens of golden flowers
Reflected stars on the water's surface
So many gifts she justly deserves
The rose-coloured feather,
Gift from heavens,
Brings daylight to a sinner
She's an angel without wings
Leave and ThinkLeave with what you know,
Entire continents watching,
Observing and judging the freak.
Kindness more of a gift than a courtesy,
Incrimination the only constant,
Killing off what isn't needed.
Exhausting the mind over time,
Ratifying whatever cannot be controlled.
Oscillating at speeds unknown,
Creating something crazed yet tame,
Tempering emotions while ripping them away.
Offending to the snob on high,
Bewildering to the commoner below,
Ebbing away at basic sanity,
Respecting nothing just to leave an empty shell.
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More