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What should become of them?
All these fragile white fallen things.
While matted feathers stick to the dew,
of bright morning blades of grass.
Their gaping mouths talk to the depths,
screaming insecurities into his ears.
Sharpened hands close tight around mine,
begging for sympathetic fingertips.
As soft warm eyes squirm in their skulls,
oozing liquid vivid onto tiny faces.
Should I pick them up before they die,
then throw them back into the air?
Though what goes up, must come down,
so maybe then, their better off on the ground.
The Fourth of July
Stand on the rooftop and gaze into the rips where the stars, they drew a promise on his skin with needle tips.
Breathing deep the green-grey smoke, guilty spirals in brown eyes, holding hearts with Porcelain Doll because boy, it gets you high.
You can paint her face like mother's, sign your name in Freckles noir, but only smile disheveled-bitter at the thought that she were yours.
So put your hands up to your mouth and sew it shut with guitar strings, before you shout out to the world the "te amo" you cant sing.
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More