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Not A Generic PersonYou pale yourself, innocently mask your insanity,
But there are always differences, always fears,
Your face is like a garden with neat rows and ornamental pond eyes,
Your hair keeps running around your face like tangled vines.
I have dared you into demon vile loves, and lost form,
Let you run through the halls in envious spurs,
Shot thunder and lighting, through hard studded glares,
But never once have I lost you completely.
You are puzzlement, a surprise each day,
As wistful as the wind and deep as the oceanic sky,
You flow like the tides in monsoonal winters,
Lost in a doubt ridden mist, obscured by your opaque shrouds.
Long driven devils pursue you through life, engaged voodoo solider battle,
Drive forth the silver bullet, and kill this diaphonic heart,
Indigestible longings hidden in your pride, locked in caged dungeon,
Spread through starlit sky on wish after wish, glitter with false diamonds.
Oh dearly beloved, dear, honey, sugar,
Sweetness is not what you really are; you are mor
Silent VoidI cannot stay here in this silence,
It is killing me, slowly and painfully, tearing me apart,
Tearing me inside where others can not see, can not feel,
I am lost in this void, stuck with a scratched record memory.
Leave me here alone, take my life again, inevitably leading down,
For what you can not inflict on me, I inflict upon myself,
Oh star scarred heart, wound yourself no more, no more please,
Your brain is lost in cloud, your body hits the floor.
But death is not an easy solution to grip, for the mind shies away,
And I fear it will not be the true release as I want it, there is much undone,
I must therefore break this silence, and carry on with the guilt, grief and pain,
And go out and sing, survive as I can, and dance with childish joy again in this rain.
Hated Love, Beloved HateThere is no war, and yet no peace either.
And even as all hope is cast aside, it still blazes.
Burning yet freezing as I soar and yet fall.
Here I am in emptiness though completely filled.
I am not forced to remain here, yet bound all the same.
And though so bound, I am also set free.
Though I am not dead, I cannot seem to live...
And love does not so much as care.
Though blinded, I see, and though mute, I scream.
And just as I long for health, I ask for death.
I hate myself because my heart does not belong to me.
In my sorrow I am whole, and happy in my anguish.
Nothing is right...not life nor death.
And dear Love, I utterly blame you.
Angels and DemonsThere's a feeling in my gut,
Of a decision to make,
Something else but,
It's new to take,
Opportunity of sorts, but is it right?
Truly alone, a choice in the night,
Or is it wrong? Should I perish the thought?
Sadly enough, that's all that we've got,
Angels and demons, crisscrossing existance,
Can you tell them apart when they dance so?
Do you know, even when they please in persistance,
Does it show? When you've met the right one? No?
Winding labrynth, of a deluded mind,
You still have hope, for all mankind,
White lie of a sin, you've lied to yourself,
Physical rendition, of thought itself,
Can you accept others, in the image they present?
Do you have a problem, with a black president?
Can the son of a sinner, change his mind,
When all around him are his kind?
Angels and demons, wearing the same uniform,
But of course you're used to this, it's been the norm,
Angels and demons, they're someone you love,
But are they from below, or from up above?
Stranger LoveI am not the sunlit wing-print
splayed out on the bedroom wall.
I am not the dark mass forming
in a corner of an airless hall.
I am not the viscous vengeance
where you sink your spinning wheels.
I am not the leaky bucket
hung up on your wishing well.
You are not my soul mate missing
wandering a winter's night.
You are not the sound of angels
singing by a candle's light.
You are not the rasp of fingers
fumbling with a hasp of steel.
You are not the tattered towel
soaking up the things I feel.
I am the oblivious child,
dancing where the wildflowers are.
You are my unwitting captive
lighting up a jelly jar.
A Week Of KissesA Week Of Kisses
The first day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your shoulder,
Well before I thought about your lips.
Because I don’t know what I am doing, firstly,
But more importantly,
It’s because I know things can spiral quickly,
If things start shifting
After we lay down the concrete.
So I kiss the foundation,
Before we reach the soil.
The second day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your elbow,
Because it holds together the touch
And the flex.
To exhibit it,
I must kiss the joint that bends
And combines us together.
The third day I told you I loved you,
I lay my lips to your temples,
As I learned about the temple of reform,
For the Youth in North America.
Kissing you there signifying I will protect you,
As well as your temple,
As we re-form, into something more.
The fourth day I told you I loved you,
I’d kiss you softly on your forehead.
Because that’s what holds your brillian
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More