Charnel House of SmilesThe Ferris wheel is a whore, arching her back to the sky to the advantage of the pairings that grope and fumble in her high and hidden places. She moans at the practiced moments, lending the air of danger, the looming threat of the screech and tremor of metal sundered, the possibility of such gruesome exposure clutches the belles that breath’s width closer to their beaus.Charnel House of Smiles
Sprawled and gangling by her side, the Mirror Maze drools, follows the motions of the little lost things that scurry through his veins, leering maniac that he is, the shatterglass knife hangs in limp fingers; he is too slow to use it, or… perhaps too d
Away Until the WinteringThere’s a tremble and a quake, Among the hearthside help, The master grows pale and Tired, And the manservant is called, New to his contract, Only fresh this season; Here I have a space; Set aside for exponential growth. By all means, though, Stay there as long as pleases you. We will never get the funding. I’ll clear out some side rooms, I’ll make it just as you like, Please, contaminate me, Make this your place, my space All of it. I need to go away. What is left of me, it crumbles; Chipped nail polish, AndAway Until the Wintering
Retort of the Dark ladyThou say’st my eyes, my grace, my art do lack, In thy rhymes, so precise and clinic cold, The issue of thy empty heart so black, Then temper’d ‘neith thy aged skull so bald. What sweetness could ever grow beneath That merciless and unforgiving dome? Thy heart – the image of the blasted heath, No poem truly e’re hath called home. Am I too harsh? Thou say’st thou doth feel, As others do, the pull of heart’s desire, Thou most vicious, cunning, slippery eel; Heart’s words contrived when thy need is most dire, But cannot disguise, with aRetort of the Dark lady
hollow heartedAnd yet there is hope, Always there is that one, Though time and again, Hopes lost and hearts left hollow. Not broken - emptied, A fragile shell, Spun glass, the beauty; The allure of the thinghollow hearted
That cannot live for long, Yet now, trembling, clings. They are the ones that know, Truly What it is to be alone, And silent.
The drawing roomA dozen rheumy eyes track my descent into the armchair. I know they’re desperate for attention but I carefully ignore them: I’ve heard their bitter and banal remarks before. Instead, I look at the man asleep in the next chair. He moves very gently under a coarse blanket. I study his speckled pate, his delicate lips slightly apart, the purple veins twitching in his eyelids.The drawing room
Dad will come down momently. He’s still sharp, but I wonder what this place is doing to him. I wish I’d done well enough in life to provide for him properly. Before, when I’d visit him in his big, lonely house, he’d quote Keats at
Screnzy
Dazed
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"Those that stood beside me... I'm glad you understand"
--
Let's go to the park
and sit on the swings
let's hold hands
and speak sweet things
I am Scorpius Malfoy in the deviantART Harry Potter Crew!
`n
--
i'm a million different people from one day to the next.
--
Let's go to the park
and sit on the swings
let's hold hands
and speak sweet things
I am Scorpius Malfoy in the deviantART Harry Potter Crew!
--
If she has to tell the story,
She tells it slowly
- ~AnUrbanNomad, "And They Didn't Sleep..."
--
Let's go to the park
and sit on the swings
let's hold hands
and speak sweet things
I am Scorpius Malfoy in the deviantART Harry Potter Crew!
--
"These things happened. They were glorious and they changed the world... and then we fucked up the endgame." - Congressman Charlie Wilson on the covert war in Afghanistan 1980-1989 .
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Let's go to the park
and sit on the swings
let's hold hands
and speak sweet things
I am Scorpius Malfoy in the deviantART Harry Potter Crew!
--
I do what I do
When I'm through, then I'm through
--
Let's go to the park
and sit on the swings
let's hold hands
and speak sweet things
I am Scorpius Malfoy in the deviantART Harry Potter Crew!
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