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RockstarBlue lights shine through the artificial smokeRockstar by necropoetus
Like pale blades
The crowd roars and sends high-pitched screams
Buzzing into my ear
And I believe I'm deaf from the pain
I smell the sweat that glues on our skin
The suffocating odor of cigarettes
I don't feel my body
All I see is your face
Unorthodoxly painted black
Arms covered in pagan symbols
Sinful Hades of the flesh
Reaching to you
I lose my hand in the bright colors
As silence engulfs me
StaticBored and playing with a metallic stringStatic by necropoetus
Lowering the blinds, constantly, repetitively
You bob your head at the sudden decrease in light
The muscles of your neck seem inorganic
Mechanical spring of a toy
And your eyes are empty sockets
Outside, melting skyscrapers of liquid concrete, drip
While my fingers make rapid, rhythmic movements
On the table
Creating shadows on the glistening surface
Like wells of numb darkness
A static noise wraps around my head, it covers
The split tongue of insecurity
I'm eating rusty nails that taste of blood
In this lively necropolis
RedBut we still twirl aroundRed by necropoetus
On a darkened roof
While the sunset
Like a deep, cut
Orange and shades of
Red like my lips
Our hands tight together
In an ominous dance
Of indifference to
The day of tomorrow
As the city will awaken
In snow and traffic
We'll be here
Drinking fresh coffee
Glass ChimneyShe asked if we even had tonight.Glass Chimney by krutch99
I said don't ask if you don't want to know.
She said I was a sinking ship
and then she disappeared beneath the waves.
Man I'm so far overboard
None of those lines are going to be long enough.
She hid the knives because of me,
That's okay, we can cut the ice with our teeth.
We only have tonight
We don't even have tonight
We've only got these razorblades and these clichés
And we're back behind the eightball again.
We don't even have tonight.
Heat the glass until the colors dance,
Until the optical illusion shatters in your hand,
And then lick the pieces clean,
Make them sparkle like the diamonds we could never be.
Hammer the nail into the vein until the spiderweb spreads up your arm,
Church bells ring, it's Sunday morning...
You've never been so beautiful,
You've never been beautiful at all.
Of course we don't have tonight, we never did.
*When he died, grandma told me after I had enquired her knowledge on the subject with a pressing attitude, the entire village had been relieved of their fears. Although he had helped establish the village back in the day and had fought alongside the army to protect it from invaders, there had been strange rumors going around ever since his first wife died in childbirth.* by necropoetus
Anatoly Evanoff married another woman a few years later. No one knew anything about her past, nor had she ever brought family members to the village. But the common folk had loved her. She was beautiful with her light brown hair neatly combed and slightly wavy, big, warm eyes and freckles spread across her heart-shaped face. She was kind and found pleasure in small things.
My grandma was but a little girl with dirt on her face and under her fingernails, running behind the crowd, with her two older brothers, that was carrying his coffin to the graveyard on the outskirts of the village. Old women with a few rot
ReflectionI found a couple of old photo albums in my attic. They were thrown away in some cardboard boxes and forgotten. Somehow I avoided looking through them. Whenever I came up here, it was for the sole purpose of writing without being bothered by anyone.Reflection by necropoetus
But today, the curiosity seemed to be a bomb at the back of my head, waiting to explode.
I sneezed several times as my hands opened, grabbed and took out everything from postcards to books and letters. Even clothes. Hidden away, I found a smaller wooden box. The paint was scratched off and worn out making whatever had been once drawn on it, barely recognizable.
I put it on my writing table and opened the oval window. It was cold outside, but sunny. The stinging kind of cold that hurts your skin, dries it, and makes you feel like you can't breathe. The streets were empty. The lack of sleep made my mind float. Creativity comes easier when I'm in this state. Words tend to flow without effort. I hadn't slept all night.
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