Eucalyptus. i.Eucalyptus. by ~Book-of-LostThings
five bottles of light
rest on my window;
they are small,
coloured
ii.
there are stories and
stories
of sex, hidden in the
handbag;
black leather,
I could never tell
iii.
a list of ten, more
reasons to
love you;
a justification
iv.
more humid than rain;
my whole is saturated,
tired
v.
monday was lust;
tuesday boredom;
wednesday digust; and
today, I am
apathetic.
Staphysagria. you read me a novel,Staphysagria. by ~Book-of-LostThings
it read that I,
sweet like
'sorry',
was angry
and that when we
fought, spat
and trembled
I told the
truth,
boiled and
we did not
comprehend
each of our
sins
-
you hurled me back
to the prelude
with mis-
understanding and I
fled, my past in my
mouth and I
scratched and bruised
like love-bites,
overwhelming my
skin
-
climax;
a scream when you
applogised in
the kitchen,
fell to the floor
and we needed a
mother,
pappa and mamma
came to comfort,
infuse
comprehension
-
we are the mountains
around my home,
pouring and foggy
and relentless
and perhaps mamma
was right, perhaps
stille w
Silk. i.Silk. by ~Book-of-LostThings
not so much as
needing love,
as needing to
return it;
warmth and
comfort,
love is
lacking
ii.
today it is
grey, raining -
the valley is green;
my body is heavy,
sad
iii.
with distance,
you are perfect
a textbook of
romance and yet
eye-to-eye,
I feel empty
about you
iv.
1939, music and
jazz on
your radio,
I understand, you
do not;
we cannot
fit
v.
everyone has left,
smiling in the snow
and together --
I miss them and wish
to be there,
then it would
not be so
grey, homeless.
Aluminium. spring rain in summerAluminium. by ~Book-of-LostThings
december is cold;
I am not at home
with you, where
night is
soft
and
you speak
of love,
weeping;
I do not love you,
yet distance
empties
the grey
and I would speak;
raise my decibels and
slight you
for my
stains --
I think, I am
found wanting
-
so we will break;
seventeen kilometres
of not-quite-regret
and denied words
for [making] love is
repulsive;
sex is unfeeling
and past lovers,
half-built walls
have not yet
been
confessed, confronted.
tremors curled over a porcelain mouth, i let my dinner fall out.tremors by ~Miss-Deathwish
it's 9:33 p.m. and i think about saturday,
when rain hit the pavement like firecrackers,
the sky darker than the shadows behind the shower curtain.
i know there's a spider burrowed between those plastic folds.
funny thing about deep spaces; they feel better
when they're stuffed full. i think about how your fingertips
made my skin feel soft and breakable, how your tongue was warm,
about how my legs wouldn't stop shaking and you laughed, whispering,
"you okay?"
well, there's this experience known as an aftershock.
hands clutching cold tile,
things i've yet to tell you. i. last night i woke up just in timethings i've yet to tell you. by ~MarieHolly
to pronounce myself dead.
i figured, at the very least
i deserve to say it first.
i figure i've earned that much.
instant death- or
death in an instant-
allegedly painless.
they try to tell you
earnestly
"she never felt a thing"
ii. ryan,
remember that
your heart beats until it doe
jazz It was like the 1930s,jazz by ~mesmeric-revelation
except harder and faster-
visceral.
Erupting through the room,
a dream of elicit
boundless reverberating screaming-
as politely as a child throwing
it's longest finger in the air.
I could never fall in love this quickly,
and as I did, I became alert in my
seat as if the windows would
fall through me
instead.
atrophy of the mind I've got two brain cells left;atrophy of the mind by `YouInventedMe
one's standing still
and the other is chasing it.
a train
tied
to its tracks;
a plane crash
replacing
it.
a hemisphere
cut in half -
distance
in fractions
reviewed.
My mind is running down my face
and I can't find a cup
to catch it in.
life's
something that
keeps happening.
and, while
conscious (of this fact),
you think
(nothing)
of the moments
it's happening
to you.
My ears fell off a while ago,
if you are still talking
Doubtful 
Sta.sh
