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Not AliveShe is not alive, just pretends to live...
partially, out of the habit,
partially, because once she really desired to be.
Still, she doesn't breathe,
doesn't blink and sits still,
almost like a dead bird in the cage,
on her windowsill.
And if someone would look at her long enough,
they would say: a pretty doll, nothing more.
She is not alive, but plays the role
and day after day prolongs
taking the last bow,
saying fare thee well...
Instead she remains, a puppet...
Pretty puppet, its strings moved by the skeleton fingers.
Cause even though she lingers, she is not alive...
and she wasn't so,
for a long, long time.
Through the NightNight washes off and the shadows crawl over the chipped drywall,
whispering your name in crackled voices
Soon, fingers of the dawn will chase them away,
but their insane voices will linger and stay
Sickly sweet, I can still taste the dreams
in the back of my mouth,
like a rotting corpse of all the kisses we shared.
I'm desperate to pull it out and try hard,
mixing it with the bitter taste of fresh tears
but it doesn't disappear.
Sheets are maddeningly, sticky hot under me,
drenched in sweat, as I've kept turning around all night,
constantly waking up from the aching illusions,
reaching with my hand in the bed
in vain trying to find you on the other side
and grasping only dark instead
Followed by falling back onto the rock-stuffed pillows,
stubbornly holding painful whimpers on their way out,
keeping them firmly inside
Cause one is to cry, other to cry out, aloud
And hearing my own desperation
would probably just kill me right now,
cutting through the
Sitting in the DarkIt leaves her empty,
silent streak of tears
that messed up the ink in blotches...
and every curve, every spot,
is now an emotion of its own, but far..
She wrote, then cried,
all she had to say for the day,
and now she's hollow
dead until tomorrow,
just sitting in the dark.
Silence builds the walls around...
she cried, but that also died
some time ago
and all the rattles,
and all the missed notes of her soul,
are now gone quiet,
exhausted in the shadows.
Light may be, somewhere far,
but it doesn't reaches her tonight,
nor the soft tingle of happiness,
as she's wrapped in stone...
Sitting in the dark, she's alone,
away, far away
from the dancing carousel
of the world
and away, far in the distance,
it keeps turning for someone else.
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More