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bugshello little worm
little line of blue.
i couldn't help but notice you
making your way through porcelain dirt
much like the bed we lay in now
dressed in our finest red sunday skirt
i feel you with just the tips of my fingers-
you've come out to play
it's warm inside and the water is just right
and this bed is your favorite place to stay
cold, cool, rough on my neck
somehow that's the pain that gets to me
that's what bothers me as i watch you
hunched over like a small child examining an insect..
then i remember- that's true
you are a little worm inside me
you've burrowed pretty deep
but not deep enough to keep you
from what i hold dear to me
you feel my fingers as they caress your form
the ridge the line on the soft smooth "dirt"
that you've found your home in
that you've made a hole in
that you've brought life to,
but haven't made any better.
you know this little game we play
isn't like the others- you know
that it's sacrifice for us both.
and it hurts us to make it
well, me, not so muc
The InkwellWhat is it?
But how could I explain.
How does one tell others
what it's like to go insane?
I sit in my thoughts, and drown in my head
the gray world I dwell says I'm already dead
It starts at your finger,
but maybe your tongue.
a big black splotch- where had my skin gone?
I waved it in front of my father-
told him to help me, I said
"Won't you get it off, why won't it come off
I've washed it and popped pills and done all I can
but this blotch just won't come off."
so he took me to the hospital,
but not because of the spots
he took me because I'm crazy,
because he said
"there's nothing there at all."
So I look in the mirror and see them
crawling up my skin.
I can just feel them in the back of my head
telling me to sin.
And they spread so fast and only I see
what they're doing to me.
To everyone else I'm just like them
just a human being.
The more I try to get them off the more they just come back.
They all weigh a hundred pounds,
I can't carry them all around.
Heavier and heavier
the demons always winyou can fill my heart will all your might.
try to weed out the sorrow lining it's depths.
whisper to me that i will not fall,
tell me that i won't lose it all.
you can kiss me on the lips, after you've licked away the tears.
and sit and wait for me to come home
as i run off to fight the shadows in my head
with your heart as my shield and your love as my sword.
but the demons sucking like leeches, plastered to my skin
creatures made up of evil and sin
their warm steamy breath rotting my flesh
they will always win
you can listen for the explosion,
and surely you'll see
the demons, and all that she's done to me
the woman, who smells so sweet-
who's so pretty and smiles and shakes your hand-
if you listen for the explosion
surely you can see
what she was doing to me behind her curtains,
you'll watch the blood snake down the walls
taste the acid of death in the air-
when you reveal my body you expose your deepest fears.
but the demons, laughing, they won't care
you'll only be
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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