There's Something About The Mirror In The Hallway

there's something about the mirror in the hallway

my reflection pours a whine glass wearing a webbed dress made of phantasmas i stare at her in the hallway such a shame, crying on a summer's day i don't understand her demands red excuses speak in different tongues an image of lace underwear haunts my daydream as a honeyed nightmare i'd write about you like a vine the graze of your cotton skin upon mine driving me nowhere i would know naked license plates coax me out of love am i wasting away in place? porcelain tears on an undrawn face laid by a statue's decency the clouds shape the moon's hidden lunacy my portrait of anonymity bedaubed in oil paint and nudity

i love the beach so much, if there’s one thing i’m certain of in my life is that wherever and whoever i end up living up, it HAS to be by the beach. beach beach beach

Vertigo Peaks by Dion Anja 2. Return II by Dean Gioia

Primrose

Everliving and Youthful

Your image that of Beatrice,

Heavenly, resembling of the days gone

But there is no regret up here, my Dear

Our likes sometimes Daft and Daredevil,

Yet Your presence to me never sufficient

As You are my life’s only elixir, my Dear

Death himself walked the Earth today and

Damned us both, my Dear

But I will never let go of You

Place Your faith in me as You pledge to me

The remainder of Your living moments

The Earth is crumbling at our fingertips, My Dear

My life mustn’t go on any further as I can’t

Bear Your absence

So I shall leave You with the kiss of Death,

For now.

May our fantasies end the plague, my Dear

And may You return to me

You always return, in Spring, kindred to

The Primroses that line Eden’s Garden

grown out

everyday, without fail, she’s here.

everyday. with a book in her hands,

everyday, she reads away beneath my leaves

whether my blossoming flowers slowly

trickle from my branches as the soft wind

hushes them into her perfect hair, causing her to sneeze, making me laugh,

or the strong greens of summer

engulf the sky above her,

shielding her

from quiet warm rains, or

golden leaves, bright oranges, loving reds,

drop upon her words, she picks them up

gently, so careful, as if they’re so precious

to her, as if every part of me is sacred to her,

even after it has abandoned me.

but she never does.

she never abandons me.

reading away at her pages, of love, passion,

kindness and courage, hopes of finding the

one, one day to share her life with,

drowning

in her reading, being absorbed in her life

as someone else, a character who to me

is unknown, as alas, i am unable to read.

i am able to just watch. watch her smile

drain from her face, her hair, scratched away

at my bark, her flawless skin growing paler

and paler everyday as she realizes she’ll

never live the life she lives while she’s under me

reading away, everyday, reading her books

fantasizing about her looks

getting caught onto hooks

until one day she doesn’t come.

she doesn’t read. i don’t know where she is.

has she left me? abandoned me?

she’s usually at my base, in a beautiful dress,

reading away and away everyday

like there’s no tomorrow, but then

tomorrow comes and she comes again too,

only now she’s not here. she isn’t sat where i would usually see her.

instead, others are. standing in her usual place, screaming, crying, desperately dropping

to the ground, on their knees, begging

to be dreaming.

it’s nice her family wishes to have had an imagination as vast as hers.

although one of my branches has been

feeling heavier than usual ever since

deep last night, in the bright

moonlight, when the stars became the leaves

of the sky and i was sat under the tree of the

universe.

they haven’t trimmed me in a while.

i must’ve grown out.