My newest loves

A feature for my most recent favorites.

This is why I LVE DeviantArt.







I bow,-
I hear applause;
The noise of a single clap
from my one and only
lead me to this trap.
My mind is violent.
He is the only sound missing.
When I'm alone in silence,
What is this I'm hearing?
Absence, why'd you stay?
To haunt me in this classy theater,
whilst he lays.
The noise of the encore makes me quiver.
Act One
My pointe shoes are tied.
Act Two
Giselle has died.
Grand Finale, the crowd applauds.
Silence kills once the curtains drops.
-
Giselle has ended her sorrow,
I have ended my dance
but I have a show tomorrow
and you won't return my glance.
My Pas de Deux seemed incomplete; 
Nonetheless, with you now gone
I can dance not just worrying about my feet.
This silence fills me with grief.
Why did we always compete?
You wore your heart on your sleeve,
Gone at death so neat.
How much flowers did you obtain afterwards?
Alas, I received more.
A funeral doesn't bring as much hoards,
like a theater filled with lore.
With silence I shall sway.
You will arise from that grave.
Will you Where the sidewalk trendsThis is the place where the sidewalk trends
where the streets become a runway,
and the lawns are fashionably arranged.
The bright sun becomes the spotlight
birds transform into the beats,
and the wind is overwhelmed with perfume.
To the place where the sidewalk trends
where models wear bulky dresses and sideways heals,
stumbling down the runway like a newborn giraffe.
Their faces are painted on
and hair is shaped into small buildings
where the sidewalk trends.





to M.C.Cold snow in April
paints bare trees white - I shiver
and think "welcome, Spring" 4-8-16 | just dreaming, i'm sureas the sun sinks- a blood-orange dropped from
the limp hand of a napping god-
the girl sleeps, unaware
of the night-things that cluster around her,
betting on her power, her will,
her fate
midnight spills over her, as stifling as a plastic bag
over her mouth, and her eyes flutter
her soul sensing danger, as sleep
pulls her ever deeper in…
night, vivacious, night, swirling, scintillating,
sucking prey in, a tar pit, a yawning mouth
a vicious tarn, reaching forward with thin fingers
spider legs, crawling up thighs, clutching at throats
lulling the men-beasts to sleep beneath the pregnant moon
beneath the silk-white light,
the girl slides from her roost, hay
sticking to wild hair, eyes matted
with the residue of sleep, unsteady-
not certain if she’s awake or if
she’s suspended in the center of a dream
she follows a thread through a labyrinth, grass tickling
naked legs, insects buzzing away
from her movement, flicking against her skin
myriad night-things rustling, scentin




The Blue DoorShards of dismembered crockery amass beneath her sneakers, crunching and snapping as she walks across the empty room. The only colour is the door, its cobalt timbers iridescent amongst the stark desolation where vivacity comes to die. His back, stone greeting polyester, stood tall in his seat, staring blankly towards the door.
As the chill catches her breath, shivers wracking her malnourished body, he makes no sound. No breath visibly escapes the grey lips hiding amidst the pallid skin; no shakes nor twitches nor stretches.
She peers at the door, a slight rotation that takes over her whole form as she wonders what awaits those who choose the blue door. Its brass handle welcomes her and moves effortlessly against her fingertips.
A golden glow and cloaking warmth leak from the opening, beckoning her forward.
"One last glance" she thinks as she steps into the doorway; screaming as he is standing an inch from her, limbs contorted awkwardly about him. The glazed look is gone, replaced by a Day 23goodnight, fair lady.
with your loose lips and how
you count your blessings
when you cradle my head
and fill it with stars.