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December 25, 2006
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Don't Start

by *ghostlove

Take the softest silk, I said,
  and tear it into shreds. Take the smoothest porcelain
  and smash it to the ground.
That's my heart -
                        Don't start, he said, pressing a finger against my lips
and giving me that same sweet smile that drew me in.
                        Don't start - he pulled his fingertip across my mouth
then kissed me with the same delicate gentleness which first stunned me.

His bind around my soul tightened with his words -
                                                                     Don't start, my love,
  don't complain. Be still, my beautiful angel, don't cry.
  My lashes met my cheeks to stay the lachrymose droplets, hot springs
  of heartbreak and frustration.

My lips half-parted to speak but his eyes met mine
  and I fell silent once more.
  It is not my place to question him
  it is not my place to ask.
  The razor-sharp wire around my heart
                                      is coiled tight.

Don't start, he says, pressing his lips to my forehead
  and like all good women, I am silent.
:iconghostlove:
I don't even know what to write in this space any more.
:icon:
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:iconjadbar:
~jadbar Mar 6, 2008
awesome... yeah you are talented, glad I came twice to see your gear.

--
|---(\/)-------\ .: *:.
|---(. .)------.\
|---/^ \------.\
|--( ||| )-----. \
-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\ |
- \-\-\-\-\-\-\-\|

thrill bunny III
Reply
:iconrockincherry:
~RockinCherry Mar 3, 2008
you're talented, i've read some good poems from you now and I really like this one :+fav:

--
-----

A good friend pays the bail when you're in jail,
but a true friend sits next to you in cell saying, "well, that was fun."
Reply
:iconkatfish-the-dreamer:
!katfish-the-dreamer Jan 2, 2007
Mmm...am I allowed to try and draw this?

--
What in me is dark, illumine;
what is low, support and raise up
-John Milton's Paradise Lost
Reply
:iconghostlove:
*ghostlove Jan 2, 2007  Hobbyist Writer
What do you mean?

--
Ghostlove | Flickr | LiveJournal | Shut Up, Sit Down
Reply
:iconkatfish-the-dreamer:
!katfish-the-dreamer Jan 2, 2007
To draw the situation or idea.

--
What in me is dark, illumine;
what is low, support and raise up
-John Milton's Paradise Lost
Reply
:iconghostlove:
*ghostlove Jan 2, 2007  Hobbyist Writer
Go for it. Do let me know when it's done, I'd love to see it! :D

--
Ghostlove | Flickr | LiveJournal | Shut Up, Sit Down
Reply
:iconkatfish-the-dreamer:
!katfish-the-dreamer Jan 2, 2007
I shall. :)

--
What in me is dark, illumine;
what is low, support and raise up
-John Milton's Paradise Lost
Reply
:iconteasersp:
~Teasersp Dec 30, 2006
I am very late to read this poem, and I'm cursing myself that I left it so long! This is wonderful!

--
We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Reply
:icondevilicious:
`devilicious Dec 27, 2006
you are truly talented

how was your holiday with Orion?

--
art takes courage :heart: :devilish:
Reply
:iconghostlove:
*ghostlove Dec 28, 2006  Hobbyist Writer
My holiday in Norway? Or my Christmas holiday? While I was in Norway, Orion had a couple of weeks with his daddy, during which he had a fab time by the sound of things. Christmas was great; I've never seen him look so awestruck! :love:

How was yours? Did Alex have a good time? :hug:

--
Ghostlove | Flickr | LiveJournal | Shut Up, Sit Down
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:icon:
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deviation in storage by *ghostlove
deviation in storage by *ghostlove
It's A Bastard It's like a bad boyfriend
picking you up
and dropping you again
never letting you know where you stand
promising you everything will be better and then
throwing you in the dirt once more.

You keep telling yourself that this time
you'll be strong enough to overcome
to get out
but it keeps clawing you back into its dirty clutches
and whispering in your ear that
you will never, never escape.It's A Bastard by *ghostlove
Dressing Up My Dead Girlfriend     I always hated overused clichés. "Strawberry-tipped nipples" for example, is one which all erotic writers fall back on at some point or another, but in Mia's case it was true. Hers were the exact shape of the smaller end of a strawberry, though perhaps a little deeper in colour, and had I ever just bitten a little deeper I could imagine my teeth sinking through soft flesh, the sweet sticky juice spraying over my tongue, water springing from my taste buds as the powerful sweetness spread over my tongue.

  That was the first thing I noticed as I gazed over the lifeless body before me. Those once-pink rosebuds now had a bluish-purple Dressing Up My Dead Girlfriend by *ghostlove
Pox I'm sitting on a filthy crumb-filled carpet
full of ground-in raisins and toast crumbs
wearing a yellow hard-hat several sizes too small
and I wouldn't be anywhere else.

I've been awake all night; cuddling and singing
stumbling from one room to another, desperate
to fix it all and failing in my every effort
but I wouldn't have been anywhere else.

We play monotonously. Car goes up, car goes down
and a small commanding voice directs the action
and I am tired, so tired I don't understand the game
but I wouldn't be anywhere else.

I receive a kiss, more snot than lips, without thinking
I wipe his nose and mouth with my hands, deposit
Pox by *ghostlove
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