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 Apr 2014 Andrew McElroy
August
I will give you bruises on your body made of pleasure, not of pain.

With nothing but the stars to guide us on our empty ways.

We have been running through the woods like animals we truly are.

In the moon light I am tracing your violet skin that I marred.
Amara Pendergraft 2014
 Apr 2014 Andrew McElroy
August
I don't stand idle very long.
If you disappear, you'll be gone.
Yet if I vanish, wait for me.
When I come back, you'll see,
It'll be like I never left at all.

I should practice what I preach.
It's different for me when I leave.
For you it is an ends to a mean.
Wired deep inside your physiology.

I go away to keep that sanity.
Amara Pendergraft 2014

I don't know how relatable this is, but I also don't really care.
have you ever felt a home in your bones?
safety in the way it cushions the weight of your moaning head
upon falling at it's thresholds
you want to know what tender feelings
you hold in safe places
but they
never question the way your severed vessel
still toes the shoreline,
roaming the foam licking at the crests
of crescent moons left in the remnants of crab shells
pressed into particle upon particle of scruples
unspoken in the weeks that forgot you

they rush ahead

and you stand stock stuck, still mustering
the guts of every animal they left on the beach
in the road, and you too leave them
for fear of that lethal touch
mistaking broken shards of beer bottles
for sea glass, some days you tried to remember
and forgot

they are savages
the agile hunger pains
gnaw at the bandages

but you still love, in nausea,
ad naseam, you study them, reverential
try to reference their satiation with fondness
still sunken in repugnance for your own likeness

you collect them like passengers
pieces of you and worlds unto their own kind
he says you are two of a kind
you think not, because he is one

each thrown to the riverbed below
becoming rocks filling up the moat
cranking down the drawbridge
over a river filled with sea glass
the true form of whom you have settled with
knowing you may never know

and in forgiveness you live with
the sickness of knowing nothing
and the sentience of understanding everything
and when you stand by the water
they tell you that your eyes have a brilliant glow
and you let them find you stunning
in a memory upon a time ago
you conceal yourself in the
minds of many

while the solecism in his praise
still rings heavy in your throat
two thousand
nine hundred
and sixty eight
miles away
from home

no,

i don't feel beautiful
but i feel dangerously effective
 Mar 2014 Andrew McElroy
Anon C
Mistress of the night
sweet smell of darkness
oh how cherished was the scent
never knowing until it was too late

true love's blinded sight
a pain never fading, forever ageless
tattered soul left in fragments
pain that never will abate

oh mistress of the night
*please don't fade into the shadows
 Mar 2014 Andrew McElroy
Anon C
A rock in a sandpaper throat
difficult to choke, impossible to swallow
obsession had outlived love
dreams too large for tiny arms
and ashes were left where she treads
tears fill one eye as the other stays dry
love prevailed in cold bloodshed
drifting away another vague memory once so powerful
'twas a dream from which to be awoke
the moon turned red and her twisted silhouette devoured the sky
the ocean transformed to venom as her warm breath met the sea
a fiberglass vial, the poison, the pain, the nothing of a dead ghost
leap off the precipice, one might likely fly given the right mind
only the doubtful would cry
only the uncertain would kneel down in remorse and give in to the unknown
her last heartbeat didn't make a sound
exemplifying her lifeless soul
burying her dead thoughts
 Mar 2014 Andrew McElroy
August
I sometimes imagine my hands on your  

                           cool skin.

Hush, love, just let your warmth grow

                                                    from within.

Let your light seep out the corners of your

              almond eyes.

I ache to hear the cacophony of your lovely,

                                 begging sighs.

You make my laugh tumble like inefficient

      lovers dancing.

As you writhe and swirl, my heartstrings are for your

                                                         fingers grasping.
Amara Pendergraft 2014

I sometimes worry if she thinks I'm worthy of her time.
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