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Leave this WorldI will slit my wrists
to watch the blood fall to the floor
to end my life for good
and nobody cry a single tear
I will leave this world
pretend that I never existed
This life dont need me no more
I am better off gone from this world
I will slit my wrists
to ease the pain
I can't take the crying
I can't take this pain
There is no hope in this world
There is no reason to live
I will leave this world for good
Maybe someday I will be reborn
Goodbye(again.)There is a part of me that clings to you
the part of me where my heartbeats stack up in piles
and needs you
I need you, constantly
like air or blood or anything vital, as real as metaphors and piles of
stacked-up heartbeats, breaths taken and
exhaled; I need you.
I need you and sometimes it overwhelms me.
The part of me that's still afraid and still a little hurt,
or maybe a lot hurt.
You hurt me so much and I love you more than anything else
And I'm happy. I love you like my hands soaring through the air outside a car window
wind through my hair and grinning smiles across our faces
But every now and then something slices through my joy and sends me reeling
in fear and pain and I can't let you leave me again
I'm 85% sure you won't.
The other 15% of me sits in the corner and clings to you in desperation
so utterly fucking terrified that you'll break my heart again.
I fear sometimes that I'm still missing a piece, that some part of me
has chipped off and can only be painted ove
Let the Sparrows InI.
Blackbirds rest on the power lines,
their silhouettes form the notation
to a dawn song set on the sheet music
of telephone poles contrasted by the sun.
Curled leaves are land mines littered
on the lawn where imprints of twigs
and a nurturing robin's tracks collect.
Branchlets and leaflets stem from
porch step railings and mailboxes;
the numbers read odd on the east,
even on the west side of the asphalt:
The engraved letters on
the siding reads, "Davis."
This house is home to family
so let the sparrows in.
with its branching hallways
furniture rooted to the floor
family, friends, the occasional
out from home.
Let the sparrows in; let
Let the door's
loosen—let the door stand ajar
be let open
the night owls and
let the doves
in pairs in the iridescent
Let the sparrows in.
Framed on either side
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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