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Bad Vibes AgainI've stood on the railings of bridges
Realizing all I had to do was take one more step to reach my LSD oblivion
And wished I had a pack of Marlbolo lights
That I was the victor instead of the victim
That I’d faded away to nothing but a voice
Instead of the numb needle point nymph with pin pricks in her fingertips
I’ve broken gin bottles at the head and gripped the flesh taut over my switch blade hips with hands that tremble with every pop of the camera bulb cocaine flashes dancing in my eyes
But I’ll never understand the psychology of the devil’s head as he slips pomegranate seeds through the parted lips of my fanged skull while sliding his hand up my skirt
Or the need to rub my hands up and down my thighs in nervous fits, scarring the land with the fire of the roses drenched in my skin
All I know is that I’ve got bad vibes but love is pain and my wrists can’t seem to get enough of it
SickSome thrive in ivory
But my wounds fester
A deep ebony as my
Head begins to quake
My vitals throb as our
Cracked lips dance
Dear god I'm so sick
You're My SinDon’t resist the flames
Tonight we gonna just
Dance dance in the pale
Moon fleshed shadow
Of the the devil’s kick drum
And while the night remains
Young, I’ll turn every nightmare
Into a drip of alcoholic condensation
Haunting the rim of your strawberry
Passion glass and Darling, I'll make
This night a scarlet smooth sin
ControlI have a heart of puppet strings
And you have a handful of sticks
Every blink of your eyes is the
Shake of your manipulation on
The smudged lines of my veins
Sticky FingersDown peach cobbled stones
The juice of delectable sun
Kissed bodies flows into our
Sweet, sweet apple pie lips
As we entwine our limbs in
Warm weathered dances that
Will make the dead sing tonight
In the town, sticky fingers find
Their way through tangled seas
Of hair and cayenne peppered skin
Kiss, kisses spot the bodies of those
In the sugared caress of rosy flesh
All the way down; for tonight, in this
Moment, we shall make love shine
Where is LoveCould it be possible to find
A smile of spread wings and
Lit candles swooning under a
Pregnant breeze; a gaze of storm
Torn waves entwining with the
The salty skin of sun spiced skin;
The tangled serenade of tapped
Melodies telling stories of sweet
Rapture; I’ve had a certain craving
And I’ve searched far and wide, but
For now I wait for the juice to drip
From my chin and reach for another
Fruity song of what we call love
Fourth of July In this day of symbolism, she sits along with the faint wisps of grass with a lit sparkler blazing between her teeth and ponders upon questions quivering on paper mache wings. They flutter upon each other in frenzy in her head, so she decides to choose one. Will you ever be given the freedom to feel? She sits for a moment, savoring the silence panging for a response. She can feel the blades of grass press into her palms and feel the burning sensation of the sparkler on her lips. She can feel, but only externally. Inside there is nothing but the sensation of a burning numbness in her bones. Others around her feel with each pound of their hearts bleeding red, white and blue as they say for their affection for the soil beneath her feet, with each shower of vibrant sparks from the fireworks exploding in the sky overhead, with each touch from those returning home from a life of holding this American façade with strings of blood stained teeth of those who swam in the saltiest of waters,
VibratoEither swaying on the
Arms of a pregnant breeze
Or violently stroking the world
Of crimson thrill amidst swirling
Notes of melting midnight upon
The haunted frame of this violin
And her song to an immortal rose
These fingers vibrate her entire
Being and all she will do is part
Her lips to reveal the sapphire cold
Blood of a symphony for the night
A reasonOur love
You had to
A single one
Boy Who Ate BugsPush your head down
towards that brown
dirty, wet ground
You see all these bugs
the ants, the worms
And put them
into your dinky mouth
I hear your parents screaming
Skeletal (Simplicity)Skulls aligned through discolorations and formation.
Alphabetically memorized throughout varied pitches.
Stability ensures the most invisible of imperfections.
Upon skeletal, metallic structures my collection exists.
Throughout its placement upon spiteful rats and rhymes-
A molded, vibrant smoothness echoes briny walls.
Tenderness of delicacies flows within certain of mellowness.
As hideousness ensnares specific steps and falls.
And as I enclose oceans throughout muffled sound-
Twice a carcass arises throughout ashen sands.
Morally, the presentation which drips blood throughout quills.
One composition of thrice for overwhelming of lands.
A Vampire's RevengeCold, alone
Silent statues guard the night
Clad in stone veils
No more tears will fall
They pray for light
Hear me, hear my call
I am free
I am coming
This aching pain
It burns inside of me
Why cursed forever for the night?
Since when is love a crime?
When was hope a sin?
Did I deserve to die a thousand times
Again, and again, every sunrise
Chained like a beast
In your dungeons down below
When once I walked a free man
You denied my pleas for mercy
I begged for understanding
I have paid a thousand times
for all your sick and twisted lies
But don't worry
I can see past your disguise
And now my time has come
No more will you see the sun rise
This night, I am free
A thousand years, they seem but a day
Blood will fall like rain
You can pray
But I am no God
I am not merciful, and you will pay
For the years you took away from me
For the love you stole from me
For the lies and the hate
For My love who died in pain
For my child that you hid away
You, my friend, y
Click play and take it away.
There's a shadowy figure standing over my bed
it's grinning at me like it's going to enjoy my end
I go to move but it's tied me down
be still, quiet, don't make a sound
as I go to shout for help
it puts it's cold rotten hand across my mouth
Don't cry little one it's not that bad
I'll be here through the pain to hold your hand
Captured and helpless, there's no escape
across the room a table, laid out with instruments of torture and scalpel blades
I'm tired of being afraid
today my shield's down so is the masquerade
now I'm left vulnerable to your attack
and I'm scared it's courage I lack
to stand you picking my skeleton clean
but if you do - I hope you choke on my spleen
You psychopathic fiend
you might have my body but my soul can never be gleaned!
Defiant to the end
I will not die until I'm dead.
LIVING DEAD GIRLYour cold eyes don't frighten me
You act as if I hate you
The truth is....I do
You gave me a false paradise
To which I fell deeply in love with
But like a dream...I woke up to hell
You are a master of disguise
Lowering my guard down to catch my innocence
Your silver tongue put me in a trance...it still does
You gave me a make believe heaven
Then you snatch my halo and tear my wings apart
like its a game
Leaving me there exposed and full of regret
Then I gave up my soul to you
You mocked me when I was on my knees and
praying for this suffering to end
I guess it was funny when I looked like a
scared little child
In your arms I am trapped
You should be proud of that
You broke me down and turned me bitter
All because you can
Damn you...you are beautiful
I can't resist the taste of your blood
Temporary relief from the aching hunger
that attacks me in the dead of night
Your iced up heart is beating to the sound of my breath
As the transformation is crawling up my spine
I no longer am weak...
The GhostYou can't see me.
Not at all.
I'm sure you'll flee.
Then you'll fall.
I'll be there.
Up in your hair.
Breathing on you.
You'll not know who.
I'll smell your fear,
As you move back on your rear.
But, not that fast.
You'll never get past.
I'm the ghost,
And you're my host.
Death and Pupils of MolassesFallen leaves and broken bones sound the same
Underneath steps of stone
Golden irises and pupils of molasses haunt my hooded lids
The wind sings notes of ghostlike melodies; possessing my ringing ears
Past lives fall gently to the ground like leaves
The blood of the lost bringing colors to piles of ash
Death calls the cold wet earth home; crunching underneath our feet
The dead have come back to us in the bloody shades of autumn
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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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