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Why?What if I asked you why?
Yes, if all I said to you was why?
Like a little child, I simply ask you why?
Would you reply, telling me you have no idea what I am talking about?
Would you ask me what on earth I was saying?
I would tell you, why?
Why did you leave?
Why do you hate me?
Why haven't we talked in two years?
Why do you treat me as if I'm invisible?
Why can't we even make eye contact anymore?
Why is our relationship so screwed up?
Why do I even care anymore?
Why don't you care?
What would you tell me?
Would you stand, confused, and say to me, what?
Would your eyes give away the sadness I feel as you laugh at my seemingly strange questions?
Would you get mad and tell me to get over it already?
Might I break down into tears, pleading for answers?
Might I suddenly wrap my arms around you as if a hug will solve all of my world's problems?
Might I clench my fist and tell you, nevermind, it was stupid anyways?
But would you answer my questions?
Would you give me the answers I've se
UntitledUnder the twinkling stars in the twilight sky,
Under the full bright moon smiling down at us,
Under the deep red of the leaves in the oak,
Surrounded by the dense musty smell of autumn,
Surrounded by the green grass growing tall,
Surrounded by the beautiful silence of the night,
Watching as leaves declare independence from the oak tree and fall,
Watching as a single firefly dances above our head,
Watching as you point out patterns of stars in the night,
Feeling the nip of cold in my gloved hands,
Feeling your arm pressed comfortingly next to mine,
Feeling delicate butterflies take flight in my stomach,
Wishing for the gentle, warm embrace of your arms,
Wishing to look once more into your bright blue eyes,
Wishing for you to tell me you love me,
on old sanzu - absolutely true fictionlast fall i stole my friend down by the tama river. we sang. we danced. we skipped dead fish like rocks and watched them get swallowed by the undertow. we got sick off of bad chinese food and went skinny-dipping and then a week later she drowned herself.
her uncle was a yakuza, i think, but he really just wanted to be al pacino or something. anyway, she loved him a lot. maybe that’s why she went down the way she went down; cement shoes. not real cement, but it was the same idea. she had two cloth bags with yellow-painted cinderblocks inside, and they were tied to her ankles like the prisoners’ chains from o brother where art thou.
in my mind’s eye i can see her, limping dreadfully close to the edge of the current, her left hand gripping at her breasts through a loose t-shirt. kneeling by the wastelands, elbows in the gravel, crawling forward out into the water. angry like a dermis under wool, all teeth and salt and sand. sleepy, submissive, sublimated.
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^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