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Throw a little more gasoline on the fire.


Raiha
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[FONT=Palatino Linotype][SIZE=2][center]Friday, July 23, 2004
-Neuvoxraiha-

[color=mediumturquoise]Enforced Silence

The night is deepening in the darkness,
I am all alone in my horrific humanity,
The colubrids are crying for their caretaker,
Shift your eyes lower to settle on my skin,
Lashed with bamboo and broken with blood,
The labyrinths are wavering and languishing,
All together and all apart in my enforced silence I break.

Snapping my mind like a whip,
Cracking open along the fontanelles,
Reminiscent of the past in which I,
The breathing and the laughing and the crying,
Was whole and happy and so very young,
Young enough to not know what this,
This pretty treason and this manipulation could do to me.

I am all broken down in this quiet place,
While my skin is not whole and my body,
Once a door of light,
Requests to be listed under another title,
That of hatred and suffering and rage,
Against the crooked mind that has become,
Merely a container of souls and a sad excuse for insanity.

Once I wrote me down to sleep,
But when the dreams finally began,
I did not like the places I drifted to,
And when I shut off this technology,
That has me bound to this crackling desk,
I will not like the place I will drift to,
Because it will be soulless and transparent and less than.

Something that fades with the slightest touch,
Breath that is so dry that nobody can imagine,
The feeling of tongue against lips,
Feeling the blistering and cracking,
That shiver over the festering sores of salvation,
All disguised underneath the smile,
And within my shell in this shattered world of words and phrases.

All together and all apart in my enforced silence I break.[/color]


[color=seagreen]Nature is Gone

Give me something that is not real,
Reality is bad enough as it is,
And I am presently intertwined,
Between one river and one mountain,
Both struggling to pull me,
And throw me,
And give me,
What they can best offer.

Vengeance was never a happy place to visit,
And most of the time,
Believe my lies or believe your head,
Because this jilted establishment thinks,
That the unintentional always happens,
They burn up,
They drag down,
My seemingly helpless frame.

Allow me to illustrate,
The world in which I live and breathe,
With fanciful phrases,
And words and whispers that mean,
Absolutely,
Nothing,
To you,
Or your pretty little mind.

But it's too late for you,
You weren't born as me,
So all these words you pass through your eyes,
Will drift out your skull,
And as shaken as you might be,
Realize one thing,
You will never,
Be like me.[/color]


[color=royalblue]Q & A

What do you think?

I am desperate for an ending,
To this dreadful night that expands,
And fills my senses with nothing but the feeling,
Of being so terribly alone,
And so horribly disjointed.

Why do you feel when it hurts?

Why shouldn't I feel this humanity?
It is what keeps me alive,
Even when it wants me to die,
And when I stop feeling,
I stop being.

Where will you go now?

I will stay where I am,
And be the fulfillment of the water,
That is my life,
And drifting along the milky way,
There is a shimmering in my eyes.

How can you end it?

One drawing of the blade,
Over pretty white skin,
Would simplify my aching life,
But instead of death,
Perhaps it is wiser to live and be stronger.

What if you simply fade under the strain?

Will this life be worth living then?
Nobody will remember me,
But I will remember them,
And that's what will give me meaning,
Even if it's simply less than the truth.

When will you find the door?

If I can shed this mortal manacle,
And cover the sheets of steel,
With my tattered tears,
Why not draw the door in the wall,
And open it to the light?

If you find the opening, will you enter?

Provided I feel worthy,
And I am accepted by the brightness,
Instead of pushed away,
Like so many other feelings,
Running past me.[/color]


[color=gray]From Me

This is the last time,
You will read the saddest lines from me,
And digest them in your soul,
However darker it might be and however less than it might be.

I feel a rising beneath my skin,
A calling up to a higher place,
Where I can lift one arm over head,
In a graceful line,
Drawing the curve of the clouds and feeling the thrum of the sunlight.

But instead I know I'm falling,
Further than forgetting,
And the angle of angels,
That I dreamed of ages ago,
Will never curl back across the sky to reach down and touch mortality.

And the caress of feathers,
Over my eyes,
And underneath my feet,
Is gone now,
Like the dreams I had of you and the secret lives I've lived without you.

Wondering isn't good enough,
Wandering isn't far enough,
Wishing isn't strong enough,
Wallowing isn't brave enough,
Will you wait for my sorrow to pour itself out until there is nothing left?

By then the door will open,
And I will creep forward,
Away from the all enveloping night,
If my body still has the desire,
I will go where I have shuddered away from for so long.

I am broken now,
I am empty now,
I have poured out my life into a secret dream,
That when I find the lightness,
I can summon my dream to open the door.

The words come faster now,
My fingers fly over themselves,
And create the words and phrases,
To bring to life,
The saddest lines from me.[/color][/center][/SIZE][/FONT]
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Nature is Gone has a pretty strong ending, which I personally think is one of the most important things in poems, but Q&A seems like the best one there to me. The twist sets it apart from all the horribly repeated "omgz i haet leif" suicide poems.

I'm not the greatest at explanations, so I won't go in depth, but they're good.
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All of your poems are very good, and it's kinda hard to choose a favorite. But I guess I was more partial to your first, Enforced Silence. But it's pretty much too close to call, because the other poems are pretty much just as good and you've done a great job of portraying emotion in them.
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[color=crimson][size=1]I really enjoyed reading those poems; I'd have say "From Me" and "Enforced Silence" were quite my favorite by far, though the others were fantastic. Though I'm not sure if you?re looking for constructive criticism (even though I wouldn't be able to find any anyways) on these or just the praise of some really good poems that deserve it. [/color][/size]
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[FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=RoyalBlue][i]So there she was, standing to one side of the door when the man came through the door, gun out, knuckles white, hair all tousled and disheveled. She smiled and narrowed one eye. The door to the hallway closed behind him and when he turned to yank it open she charged.

Like a striking hawk, Avlen descended, one hand at his throat, the other holding a 44 Magnum to his head. The force of her blow knocked him back into the chair she had expertly placed, and...kindly...bolted to the floor hours earlier. He caught a flash of bare skin before he felt the none too gentle pressure of both her thighs over his legs and the muzzle of her gun kissing his temple. His eyes stared up into hers, catching that wild untamed spirit he had known would come as soon as he heard who he had killed. ...and who she really was. She indicated with her eyes and he dropped the gun to the ground. Its metallic clatter brought him face to face with the cool reality staring him in the eye.

Her voice, when it finally cut through his ears into his mind registered as astonishingly soft and cool. Considering she had become the one killer that had refused to lay down and die after weeks of torture and hours of interrogation. She had lost the smooth unbroken lines of her back, but not the curving delicacy of her neck and wrists. And now, her voice was calling him out of the memories and back to her.[/i]

"...Cowboy........" [i]she breathed, so gentle and sultry compared to her slightly crazed appearance,[/i]"...I'm not happy about who you chose to kill. So I'm going to kill you and solve my problem of being unhappy."

[i]He looked up at her once more. Her voice was flat she spoke, stating the facts so cooly, without turning a hair. And that caused him excitement. But then he remembered she was going to kill him....and that simply heightened his pleasure. Cowboy managed a smirk, even though his entire body was aching, especially his back from the way she had slammed him down. She looked at him through half shut eyes, with her eyebrows curving up pleasantly. Before he voiced any response, not that he had one prepared, she had leaned over and begun licking up his neck until she reached the spot where his jawbone curved down to form the mandible. Once there she began to nibble until he began to squirm underneath her hips. Ever so gently, she nudged his opposite temple with the gun and he sat still again. Then, she laced her legs under his calves and brought one hand to his lips.

Cowboy kissed her palm and she smiled at him as gently as a mother caressing a child's face. Then she brought her gun around to the back of his head and slammed it down into the base of his skull. Out like a light, she set the Magnum down and reached for his butcher knife. Once she felt its cool touch in her recently kissed palm, she unsheathed it and placed it across his throat. Then she rose off of him and tied one hand to the back of the chair and both his feet.

And time went by.

He came around within minutes, and saw her with her back to him, holding his knife in one hand. The Magnum and his Desert Eagle rested side by side, just beyond his reach. Then he saw her pushing away the fabric of jeans and shirt until she was down to bare skin and a delicate curve to her smile. She sank down to her knees, curving her back forward so the results of the torture were completely revealed. In six jagged lines, the force of her punishers were shown. The lacerations were slightly puckered, and at certain points, elongated here and there to resemble arteries, veins, and capillaries. She cupped both hands over her shoulders, hugging herself, then slid around on the balls of her feet to face him.[/i]

"You did a good job Cowboy.... .....they never quite healed." [i] Her tone was mocking, but not acusing....and this time he found a reply.[/i]

"I pride myself on making things that last."

"Did you know you'd be dying tonight?" [i]Avlen smirk was unmistakable now.

And for the first time he realized what was happening to him. Things were slightly blurry. His skin felt wet, and ...it felt like it was on fire. He lowered his eyes and saw red dripping from cuts up and down his skin. No inch of it had been overlooked. And while he had been napping she had taken the liberty of removing all of his clothing, thus making her job far easier. Before he could protest, she walked towards him...stradled him once more and kissed him. Roughly, painfully, but not so bad, because she had avoided cutting open his lips...preferring to simply bite through them instead. His free hand cupped her *** to him, pushing into her ever so slowly, before he found the butcher knife resting at his side and drove it up into her gut in one fluid motion.

Avlen's mouth opened in shock, rather than pain, and then she relaxed and wrapped her arms around his bloodied neck. He breathed on her skin and she nearly chuckled through gritted teeth.[/i]

"...lovers suicide is overrated, don't you think?" [i]Her coy tone amused him. Here they were. Assassin and wild child on the brink of death, and no way to pull back.[/i]

"Terribly. ....but....this is more murder, isn't it?" [i] His rough voice soothed her as she let him move in and out of her, before closing her eyes and finally resting her body against his, embracing him as he held her to his chest with one hand.[/i]

"Yes. ...come with me...." [i]And he did. When the nurse opened the door hours later, she found herself wading through three inches of blood, covering the floor like the carpet of Satan's throne room. In a final act of mercy, Cowboy had stabbed her through the back, the butcher knife finding its sheath in her heart, and he, drained of blood, had collapsed back, his hand resting over the back of her neck. She screamed, and then blacked out.[/i][/COLOR][/FONT]
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