Opus

By Orizielle

30.7K 2.8K 1.2K

a lonely Saturday conversation on the wrong side of the yellow bedroom curtains. ... || Wattys Winner 2018 || More

|| ... ||
Elysium
Heaven
Rain in September
Reverie
Delilah
A date with Madonna
December in the city
Camaraderie
6th of July
Oh, Ophelia
After
Etherea
Father and Mother
I think this is a love poem
Rosa
The question
Gabriel
February
Euphorie
New Year's Eve
Neverland
Amour
New wave love
Ether
Bob Dylan's lover
When will the world end?
Rush
Acquaintance
A letter to grandma
A letter for grandpa
I do not paint
They
Oblivion
Of loverboys and imaginary cities
Duality
Reincarnation
Paris
Raindrops on a yellow taxi
Absinthe
What is July to you?
And August?
Disintegration
Vive la Révolution
Deception
Shackle
Smoke
The Grave
Apart
Hope
Gone
Forever
Goodbye
Somewhere
Solis
Damita
Insipid
Of late
Ecstasy
Fall
Winter
A clichéd love poem
To the daughter I will never have
Cynic
Spring-child
Insurrection
Entity
Hiraeth
|| The End ||

Illusory

182 22 4
By Orizielle

Lost
in empty pillow talks
All that you feel in dreams
Like the borrowed metaphors in
red frostbites and blisters
Vague and vivid and real
Witch-bells and the chains around
my neck. They'll burn me alive!
But I'll wake up, someday
And I'll be gone.

Find me
In that little hut in the woods
In fractured moonlight
and honey kisses
that taste of the sun
Everything for you to devour.
Drink me up.
Tell me your heart doesn't race
for forest fires and hurricanes
For I'd rather die terrified
than live in a dream.

What do you fear?

What do you fear when you hear me
screaming
and you know I'm not there.
Why do you doubt when you know it isn't real.

My lips are chapped and my eyes are dry
But when the new paint gets scratched
and there we are underneath
Buried
Six feet deep under the stars.
Like broken lovers who sinned.

Or we burn
Like the little things that live in the trees.

Like our fevered skins
And the posh cigarettes that I couldn't afford.
I am saving up, you see
bullet by bullet
I surrender
You smell gasoline,
so I crumble like phoenix feathers
and we make history
One breath at a time.

( I said I wasn't afraid of anything
but I lied
I'm scared shit I'll lose you, ain't I? )

Old metaphors
In matchboxes
Candy lips and ghost touches
Let's celebrate celestial unions
and our little heartbreaks, of everyday.

Dream of me.

So you'll wake up, one day
And I'll be gone.

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