The Heartstring LineThe Heartstring Line
Aka Taylor Michele
I walk the heartstring line,
Always string thin and fine.
Balancing my way along tear-soaked sorrowful blues,
Dancing through shimmering yellows and satisfying pink hues.
Gasping my way through bitter tears along greens,
Terrible visions of loss and heartbreak clouding my dreams.
The drop down is a long one, silent and still.
Blackness at bottom from which there is no thrill.
I cling to my line, a tightrope to my red heart.
Which goes fast, stops, and stutters with his every part.
Like a play, we go through these different scenes.
My line like an anchor keeping me grounded to the very seams.
A red cloak like a fan blowing on the flames,
I call out achingly his beautiful name.
A slip in my step as the air turns green, and I start to take a plunge,
As deep, dark blues flare up, soaking up my panic like a sponge.
Sometimes I must stop and recover my spirits,
Tears pouring down m
Cold CrashCold Crash
My pulse quickens as I stare into the desolate silence of salty water.
Mind speeding along at one hundred miles past the latest hour.
Avoiding potholes, speeding over bumps and crashing through stop signs.
The clock dongs at midnight, but no confetti is left falling at my feet.
Crashing mind swerves to avoid the cracks in the road.
Lengthening and widening with every earthquake heartbeat.
The pool of salty water grows the more I stare at it.
Willing it to become a well in which I can throw a penny to pay off the debts of my sins.
Eyelashes quivering, lips tightening, hands clenching over the steering wheel.
Glass shattering everywhere, pinpoints of pain that burst through my fears.
Light crashing through, sucking me out into the reality of this world.
Ejected, I fly through the air towards the brightening light.
Instant PhotoInstant Photo
By Taylor Michele H.
You and I are an instant photo.
Black and white as the day and night,
Passionate companions who may sometimes fight.
Captured in essence with a single click,
The camera frame can't contain our tick.
Tick tock, tick tock,
Clock rolls over to the twelve and just stops.
Endless and boundless like our love combined,
A depiction of our everything defined.
Yet the geometric bruises patterning my skin,
Map the spoils you placed upon my heart within.
No bruise left by your desperate desire could be considered harmful,
Any pain brought upon me is naught but a blessed bite.
Like a Ying and Yang, our traits grow twofold in differences,
And yet we attract closer than magnetic inferences.
Lips cutting through breath, like a horn in the fog,
Both our desires rise up to battle like two vicious dogs.
Yet, my timidness and your sweetness are unparalled in art,
A kaleidoscope of colors dancing even when left in the dark.
Spirals of pleasure wrap ar
TheInkheart on DeviantArt
Tranquil waters flowed down the crevasse of her spine.
Slithering over her delicate, petal perfumed skin.
Beading up and rolling off the edges of her faired-haired strands.
Dropping onto moss surrounding abandoned lagoons.
The only onlookers are the birds and the sweet honeybees drunk off nectar.
All alone, a voice like the promise of liquid honey and rolling thunderclouds, of smooth velvet and dark hues.
Breathing in the rolling fog, eyes lifting to see the veil of clouds part before the sun.
Streams of laced light weave between the mist, drying the tears off her rosy cheeks.
Waterfalls resume as she releases the pent up breath of a thousand gales of wind,
Plucking up lilies as she rises once again from the underside of the water world.
She is Siren.
The Water Maiden has Returned.
Cherry CigarsCherry Cigars
You're gone, but I'm still going on.
My caramel toffee eyes are snuffed out by visions of your leftover coffee grounds.
Tears roll like glittering diamonds off my cheeks, tarnished at the edges by dust.
I sit here, a table for two obtained by one at the dilapidated cafe you used to love.
Deep thoughts filtered through by the cigar smoke that fills my complex lungs.
That creaky old 'Open' sign flaps against the spiderweb-fractured windows.
The sound raws my nerves until they are open cysts spilling down my silken shirtsleeves.
Every other drag off the cherry sweet cigar, I repeat the same sentence.
Whispers of quotes that you used to reminisce into my open eardrums, which quaked and burst at every musical note in your tone.
The frayed, grey newspapers that sit piled on that corner booth crackle at me.
Like demented laughter arriving in a box wallpapered with the old poems that you used to keep beneath your bed
Mapping Out The FutureShe waits in the center of a busy train station
Dried rose petals tucked between the pages of her book
Suitcases that whisper of the many promises of traveling temptation
New sounds, new smells, new places to learn and new places to look
Smoothing back the fair strands of her hair, her ring glints in the light
Beautiful rubies on either side of a diamond, two roses beside a thorn
It looks like one that a man would have given her and erases suitors from sight
She fingers it delicately as she reads a book in one hand, a fluttering page torn
It rotates in the wind as she races after it, baggage holding her back
Ending up in the center of it all between a clock-tower and a bridge, she loses sight
Trapped in a crowd, she drifts along with them until she frees herself from the pack
Losing all hope, she is about to turn back around when a voice startles her into fright
A man's silky voice, sparkling brown eyes grinning at her, his guitar case in hand
She sees his fingers extend towards her, l
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
growththere is nothing more beautiful
than the softness of a man
you love more than
a face gentle in sleep
and ardent in morning;
there is nothing more beautiful
than the first breath
of your spring,
your blooming dawn,
of nothing but you
you are growing
into something new,
and there is nothing
All Hallows EveThey say that on this night the witches ride,
that spirits walk and churchyards spew their dead.
It isn’t true.
It’s said the stench of hell infects the earth
and healths of heated blood are downed.
But Hamlet lied.
The dead know nothing, the living less.
There are only poets with blood-nibbed pens;
souls hung between high heaven and deep hell.
RIP Paul Gray Slipknot
You were 38 years young
but you've passed away.
You have joined the Rev,
Dimebag, Peter Steele
and Ronnie James Dio.
Wherever you are,
you are rocking out.
Together you'll make
one hell of a band!
While you rest in peace -
look over your wife Brenna,
and the baby
you were expecting.
as you were known
for your mask
resembled one -
you cannot be replaced.
Slipknot, have hit the knot;
Things will never be the same
RIP Paul Gray
April 8, 1972 May 24, 2010
Bird of HermesThe bird of Hermes is my name.
I have devoured my wings to make me tame
for I am the one to blame
for bringing forth destruction's flame.
The bird of Hermes is my name,
bringing chaos is my came.
From Mt. Olympus I hail
and all of the god's grace shall fail.
Nothing will remain the same
for all has been consumed by my flame.
Everything into ashes, oh so frail
and a world covered by my bloody veil.
Hermes is my name
and my bird has become tamed.
No longer from the heavens it shall hail
and forevermore the rivers of blood it shall sail.
The bird of Hermes is my name.
My message has been delivered now that I am tamed.
From the heavens chaos and destruction shall hail
and forevermore this world has become my bloody hell.