Temnurus Poem - Tumblr Posts

Redemption After the Fall

Silence falls in Eden, no longer ruled by men. All that’s left is thorns and wilted roses.

Imagined fingers glide across silken skin, and we hide. Locked in a drawer, and the door closes.

Whispers attempt to bring fallen Eden back to spring, but lies offer nothing but false poses.

Maybe we could find hope within the mind as the guardian of lost Eden dozes.

Greater than Fiction

He lies.

There’s a lion in there, but who can find a flea           beneath                        the snow?

Winter is barren. It would be, compared to                      spring.

A thousand eyes are            on            my           mind, and I can’t speak freely of a thousand different things.

He still lies.

I’m out here with my shovel, digging              into                      the snow, but it’s still falling, burying more than I can.

When We Met Today

Figuratively this is just another day like any other day I’ve had before. I got up, put on my clothes, and set out to do ordinary things.

If I’d have known today was special I’d have dressed nicer, perhaps. Maybe I’d have done my hair or made up my face with paints.

As it stood, I looked like I always do when I saw you in the square. And this was a travesty because today is the day I fell in love with you.

Who falls in love with someone on their way to the grocery store? Like, this is supposed to be a story we tell our kids someday, or at least our dog.

I’m already planning our life like some kind of psychopath, and you haven’t even looked up from your phone to catch my eye yet.

That’s okay thought because I know your face is gonna light up like Christmas morning, and it’s the smile that did me in, utterly and completely.

One day when we’re old I’ll tell you about all this and wait on your laugh, and it’ll be just like the one you’re about to give me when we say hello.

Yin and Yang

There is nothing Significant about it.

I am the Other, and there will be no other as long as I exist.

There is poetry in your face and beauty in the way you move me.

I am in love with your reflection in my mirror. When you watch me I am free.

We create Something out of Nothing, and that, to me, is harmony.

Completion; two halves of a whole. That is what you are to me.

Tempted, Taken

Wielding words like a sword, she’ll weave her way into your world. Tucked in tight and nestled there; of her presence I’d beware.

For she’s the keeper of the night, and in beastly revels she delights. Soon she’ll have you in her cage to show you off on center stage.

Laughing, smiling, the people come to prod you, poke you, leave you numb. Inside you are crying out, but no one hears your muted shout.

Slowly then you may remember your one and only past defender. How I warned you of her wiles as a fellow victim of her smiles.

Regret

If curiosity were a sin mine would be punished with knowledge.

That’s what knowing felt like afterward; when I tried to go back, too little, too late.

No use crying over spilled milk, but what spilled out felt like viscera and other vital things.

It was really only the last of my innocence, my belief in the goodness of man.

But you don’t need those to get along in the world, not in the long run.

Sometimes I still want mine back, but my memory said no refunds when I asked.

I wish time were kinder to me with that supposed slow healing stuff.

I’m still waiting to not be afraid of wanting things I’ve never had.

Blood and Water

Poison running through your veins, and you told me they were clean as water from a mountain spring.

I will survive you and this hurtful deception, but I can’t be too sure of not being the only one left.

You’ve shivered in the cold all alone forever without the shelter of my rage to warm you.

Didn’t you know how very much you were loved, cherished, needed by those of us who surround you?

The quick burn of your powder supplement cannot replace me, the coat you’ve worn for so long.

I am warmth, protection, adoration; all the things I was to you all those many years ago.

Come away from the things you think you need that are never enough to fill the void you left with me.

Love is arms around you and strength from the ones held in your heart, and it is the cure to your disease.

Second Thoughts

Lost and don’t know where to go. Watch and learn the river’s flow.

One step back breaks two steps forward. Can’t blame with what he’s heading toward.

Hidden deep inside his mind, the reason buried you can find.

Don’t want to know, no need to see why he’d commit murder in the first degree.

Of Fortune and Fate

Fortune flies on wings of amber and gold, and Fate follows after in a black coach drawn by ebony horses stately and proud. Seldom have I seen those glittering wings, but the black coach of Fate has passed me many times before. You would think that we were friends, Fate and I, but that will never be. I always reach for Fortune, but she flies away from me.

Fevered Musings

Whisper sweet nothings, your lips brushing the shell of my ear as you take me higher.

Shudders wrack us both, and long legs tighten around my hips, driving us deeper in.

I want to come undone, unravel and fall apart and have you piece me back together.

This isn’t metaphorical, the need to strip you down to your most basic parts, disassemble.

We’ll both start from scratch; rediscover things we never knew before touching for the very first time.

So quicken beneath me as I close the distance that stretches between our gasping breaths, completion.

Shared in Silence

You rip and tear. We know anger is there. The hurt inside you is growing.

My lesson is learned now that I’ve gotten burned, and half the battle is knowing.

We can both cry a river while we sit here and shiver. Tear ducts are constantly flowing.

Maybe not on the outside, but inside something has died. However none of this is for public showing.

Grounded

Have you heard of the Raven girl, praying every night for her wings to unfurl?

She sits in a corner and smiles at a sound with only one thing that her thoughts circle ‘round.

A girl so pretty never found herself more plain. Who knew being invisible could earn her such disdain?

Burning her bridges, she’s barred the door, closing off her chances of learning something more.

No one knows that she’s lost the key, and how she cries every night to be free.

Metaphors That Breathe

Ravager! You know me naught from Eve. I am Daughter, sprung of a better pair.

Kinship claimed with Chaos, and my keeper a King. Your replacement has shown greater things than these.

A fool in a blindfold tells tales to an empty room. You do it singing with the lights turned low.

Lost in a sea of faces,  I forget your name, but your bruises are marks under my skin.

I have found a balm that soothes faces in places where they crop up when they shouldn’t be.

There is sunshine in secrets brought out among the gardeners who tend eternity.

And I am safe and finally free to see which dagger I should’ve drawn all along.

Invisible Disabilities

I remember what it felt like to be invincible.

To conquer fear as if it were nothing more than a suggestion.

Now my blind panic keeps me company.

I think I’d be too lonely to go on living without it.

What must it be like to have a quiet mind?

Empty of thoughts that hurtle along at the speed of sound.

Sometimes I think I could get there with help.

But they don’t write those types of prescriptions for people like me.

I wish I knew what it felt like to be free.

Lies of the Daughter

Figuratively speaking I am furtive in my fear. Too far gone and foolish in this fantasy I founded.

Unable to realize these walls I try to climb and fail were built within my mind, and only I can break them down.

Struggling against the roar, split by space and time. My hindrance is myself, inside I die, divided.

Canonize all the lies I tell you, a holy litany of my sins to sing to Heaven for mercy or a hint of peace.

Maybe I’m on Earth, but it feels like looking up from Hell instead, one that I’ve created all for me.

Can’t hear, speak, or see, but I’m screaming within for someone, anyone, you to set me free.

Harrowing and in the end hilarious that I can’t seem to find the key for the release I need.

As a Daughter of Eve, done with a penance I don’t deserve, when is there and end to pain and shame?

Linguistics

My mind is littered with the corpses of what I could have said, should have, but did not.

There are angles I’m sure I could still explore, but I probably never will while you exist to nag about them.

It’s always what I am not. What about what I am? Never what I’ve done, only how I’ve failed.

Tones are the thing you harp on. “Don’t be smart with me!” when I only just said “Okay, sure, fine.”

The meat of things is the cadence of words, how they dip and sway with what you mean to say and what you don’t.

I don’t know that you’ll ever see the value of my thoughts, really relate to my linguistics.

Hope Upon Arrival

Unsure of what I’ve seen ‘til now. That flower isn’t the same color it was yesterday. Brooding and still through a blind night leaves one with a desire for revelations. But lo, there we may view a garden of new growth, a fresh start. Unsteady, some seeds may not take at first. Like little men overboard, but tow ‘em in and row on out. This boat stops for no man, and rain’s ahead to water that fickle flower.

Compelling Figures

Twisting fingers, curling toes; tell me, what do you propose to do about my current woes?

Spiraling in all directions, finding, making new connections while weeding out the imperfections.

We come to an understanding with needy flesh commanding; desire can be so demanding.

For hours we tumble, through silken sheets we fumble, and love-drunk words we mumble.

Twined together at the end all my fears are on the mend; thanks to you, my more-than-friend.

Weakness of the Flesh

Crimson embargo, but you wouldn’t trade a heartbeat for a pound of flesh from me.

You are cold inside, with the dead aligned, to tell me what to do; rituals you put me through.

And I can’t speak, and you can’t hear the wordless way I beg and plead to be here.

Everyone wants you to let me go when I’m the one clinging to your sleeve, refusing to let you leave.

We can make this work if I could warm you and you could make me breathe and choose to be.

Do Unto Me

Spin your web of gossamer thread, and string it ‘round my pounding head.

Crawl beneath my writhing skin. Don’t ever stop; this must be sin.

Sink your teeth into my chest; you’ve torn my heart right from my breast.

I must be mad; you’ve made it so words from my lips can never be no.

Hot and cold, quick and slow. The heat of your body is all I know.

When all is done, we’ll rest at last, only to dream of our next repast.