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and i miss the ghostsi. for some reason my bed smells nice and i am loathe to sleep in it
lest it runs away from me
ii. there are ghosts touching my arms and legs
like spiders and past memories that leave cobwebs
and a throttled heartbeat
iii. i could wake up to cats and bad embroidery
maybe every now and then, without a complaint
getting sick off of poor cooking and
a queasy smile
iv. which could be okay
if you ask somebody
v. and it could be beautiful
if you ask me.
the epilogue of the fishtoday i was cold and i
introduced myself to the tiles of my
mother's bathroom floor
skintight to the heavy breathing
the hot saltwash in my eys
the ache isn't in my heart anymore
the ache moved straight down to the
so my eyes focused and
blurring on the edges of little pearls
all trimmed across my shoulders slipping
down skin to play on the
mother's bathroom floor
and each one of them
held a secret
i would never get
i shake and i cry and i
moan and i fight it and i
press my lips to the ground and wonder why
i have to hide it that this hurts
oh how it aches
how i have never hated a soul in my life
and my arms curls around me to coddle
later at night when
i am empty and marble
when my fingers are cold and numb and i
keep you close to my ear i
will not let you know that
i am actually bleeding.
i will not let you know i am
curled up on the floor of my room
complaining that my hair looks bad today
as it's my fault.
i need something to
fish iioh you fucking fish
are you even aware of the ache you press upon me?
i am not atlas
i was not built to be atlas
nor i am of an Xish and Yish carnation:
i was never meant to be god.
stop putting me on this pedestal
do not make me carry the weight of the dead and dear
dead ends are for streets and I
am not a road, but a girl, and
you are not worth it, mackeral,
and you never have been
not for ten twenty million seconds
not for all the moonlight in your eyes in the
no sir, not at all.
i am still sitting here, hiding between
parenthesis that keep me warm.
fishI woke up this morning
and with a large fish in my stomach.
the fish is perhaps a mackerel.
with all my short breathes
it squirms once,
flips it fins a few times
opens and closes its mouth,
gasping for air and
non-existent amniotic fluids.
it hurts. I'm allergic to seafood.
I swallow pills
and sit very still
and hope quietly that this
will go away.
it takes a week, and I bleed the entire time
while sheorhee slits my intestines
all that stuff.
the fish makes me clean up the mess.
we get cozy in my computer chair
where I talk to it for awhile
complaining about how it isn't even paying rent
the fish tells me the pills are stupid and that self-medicating is for people with daddy issues
I want someone to open a door on my stomach.
it wakes me up at twelve every morning
what with its thrashing and wriggling and
i mean, amniotic fluid-
and after a week, it leaves me with scales
and fish juice
for a day.
i hate that mackera
mallard girlshe was a girl who did everything in twos
two copies of every book, every ticket, every kiss
no ponytails, one-scoops, one-night stands
you can call her symmetrical, but
it wasn't like she asked for it, or
noticed even, she was just
born that way. before gaga even stated it.
wonderfully wanderful and
mallard girl of duals and duels
constantly searching for another heart
to fit in her own chest
if she should die to-night, i should think
i'd like hers
You Were Not An Aquarium BoySea-glass became your bones,
brine your blood, and seashells
melded into your skin.
You were not quite an ocean
when you said "This is your sign to love me."
My body was like a building;
tall, cold, almost unbreakable.
I was metallic and sharp,
towering over your waters.
I remember taking your hand in mine,
conch and coral shells scrubbing
my skyscraper wrists, and laughing
about how one day you would
submerge every last bit of me.
Your lips, riddled with argonauts,
found my cheek and I cringed
at the coarseness.
You asked if they bothered me
and I finally told you "I
think I love you."
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More