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disorder"mirror, mirror, on the wall
who's the fairest of them all?"
i whispered to my doleful reflection,
but this was no fairy tale:
this was a small town on a cold, foggy night.
my skeleton was so beautiful
i wanted to showcase it,
give onlookers a glimpse of my impending
death through my very flesh.
i could picture myself, edges carved away
like a cored apple.
i just wanted to feel real.
everyone around me chewed and swallowed so easily
but i just gnawed on my lip until i
tasted blood, and let
a piece of myself die.
the flavor made my mouth water
as my stomach ground out hoarse
requests for expansion, for meaning.
i held nothing within but pathetic yearning,
hollow with self-hatred.
i could only feel affection with pain.
perfection became my obsession,
consuming me alive the way i would have
loved to consume anything at all.
some part of me believe i could be a super model,
and living my life on ambition and emptiness
was the way to do it.
every day i watched the little numbers
bon appetitshe extracts her heart
from her cavernous center
like a no-good tooth.
coughing, she serves it up
on fine painted ceramics.
he lifts his fork,
spears the meat.
chewing, jaw swaying,
he samples a bite.
then he frowns
and spits into
You call them Sociopaths, I call them HumansYou call them Sociopaths, I call them Humans
I once saw this man
siting in a bench at the park
my mom told me to be careful
because he was probably mad.
I just stared into his eyes
and let my lips form a smile,
and instead of feeling fear
I just saw the mess
inside his mind.
Maybe that was the day,
I silently promised to that man
that in a not so distant future
I would help others
fix their lives.
What an unexpected surprise
was when I told my teacher
I would go to the university
to get a graduate in criminology.
And what a curious face my friend did
when I, somehow, told her
that my future career
would consist of blood and crime scenes.
"That's not what a proper lady should do,
you're so innocent you won't last a year"
and what do you expect me to be?
A bored woman sitting
in a desk asking repeatedly
"hello sir, what do you need?"
Trying to fake a smile
because I hate my job
and that's how life works?.
Well thank you, but no sir.
Many have told me it's foolish
to try to
Abandoned ChapelThe parish waits now,
the loneliness of corners
crawling outward on walls--
chipped away by the wind,
and held together
by silk spindles;
cobwebs align them like the membranes of memories,
the cut of a jewel in an broken window
against the sun
where beads of rain
gather in a mesh of strands
a new Mosaic
against the backdrop of a cemetery;
My eyes seek out the sermon
in close proximity,
paint no distance
between headstone and cloud;
elegies topple each other
in their climb to heaven
as light trickles
over the shade,
breathes a new glow over snuffed candles.
I feel the weight in these empty rows,
how a breath couldn't cease to be breath
in the midst of prayer.
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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