Submissions by Styxian
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Don't take for granted that Cupid's arrow is a goddamn arrow...
Just The Tip
(Ten thousand times)
_______________________
"We should talk about this"
"We've talked enough. It's time to heal"
"How?"
"I have an idea"
...
"Paring knives? You're stabbing me?"
"Not exactly. You get one"
"A knife fight?"
"No. We're going to stick each other with just the tips. See who
flinches the worst. Sit down...
_______________________
"We should talk about this"
"We've talked enough. It's time to heal"
"How?"
"I have an idea"
...
"Paring knives? You're stabbing me?"
"Not exactly. You get one"
"A knife fight?"
"No. We're going to stick each other with just the tips. See who
flinches the worst. Sit down...
#heartbroken
#breakup
#escape
642 reads
20 Comments
Made It To Thursday
No, Elaine.
You can't come in the bathroom.
I've soiled myself.
I told you last year
that you'd never see me like this.
Please, go on to bed
while I clean myself up.
I will then go rest on the couch
and see you in the morning.
The coffee will wake me up.
I promise.
Think of it as practice.
Probably soon,
you'll be sleeping alone for good.
Remember last Friday,
we thought I was a goner.
And the boys came over
when you called them.
I heard y'all, as I woke up.
I love you...
You can't come in the bathroom.
I've soiled myself.
I told you last year
that you'd never see me like this.
Please, go on to bed
while I clean myself up.
I will then go rest on the couch
and see you in the morning.
The coffee will wake me up.
I promise.
Think of it as practice.
Probably soon,
you'll be sleeping alone for good.
Remember last Friday,
we thought I was a goner.
And the boys came over
when you called them.
I heard y'all, as I woke up.
I love you...
#sadness
#death
#aging
521 reads
21 Comments
The First Last Days
Those sad smiles under your eyes are turning purple.
I hit you with so much I guess.
Three days, is it?
The cat came to the bedroom door again, just looked at me
with some pissy face, and walked away.
You're not expended yet. Still trying;
Opening a smile so unlike the fooling eyes.
Your nose is santa red. You were up all night again
delivering me gifts.
Me, the poor child crying over have nots
and losses of what's left.
My tears were leftovers, like a receipt coming late,
from a horrible debt paid with life parts; ...
I hit you with so much I guess.
Three days, is it?
The cat came to the bedroom door again, just looked at me
with some pissy face, and walked away.
You're not expended yet. Still trying;
Opening a smile so unlike the fooling eyes.
Your nose is santa red. You were up all night again
delivering me gifts.
Me, the poor child crying over have nots
and losses of what's left.
My tears were leftovers, like a receipt coming late,
from a horrible debt paid with life parts; ...
#grief
#death
518 reads
19 Comments
Rural Springs, Florida

#LifeStruggles
#confusion
389 reads
26 Comments
Lion Tub
You're the only one I know
that bathes in swirling darkness.
It's your ebony hair, murking the depths
Coloring the lion-tub water
into something sinister.
Supported by its four paws,
it holds itself up, and open to you.
In this low light,
it absorbs the night, around you.
Its back is broken, widened
into a pool, for the blood of rain
as you languish from its mouth
to its hind quarters.
It had roared, at first
a deep throated metallic growl.
But as it bled, as bathwater for you ...
that bathes in swirling darkness.
It's your ebony hair, murking the depths
Coloring the lion-tub water
into something sinister.
Supported by its four paws,
it holds itself up, and open to you.
In this low light,
it absorbs the night, around you.
Its back is broken, widened
into a pool, for the blood of rain
as you languish from its mouth
to its hind quarters.
It had roared, at first
a deep throated metallic growl.
But as it bled, as bathwater for you ...
#sensual
#temptation
831 reads
26 Comments
Roulette Wind
You can reheat a heart
only so many times
before it's too dry.
Then it's no more
than a doorstop.
Something to stub someone's toe
when they try to come inside.
-A small remnant of any pain
that you felt yourself
before the numbness took over
and now it's just a rust colored rock.
Lie, tell them it's a meteorite.
How they should have seen it
in it's prime.
During those meantimes
when I sought tornadoes
to jab my fingers into their whirls,
I'd lean into their chaos.
Maybe...
only so many times
before it's too dry.
Then it's no more
than a doorstop.
Something to stub someone's toe
when they try to come inside.
-A small remnant of any pain
that you felt yourself
before the numbness took over
and now it's just a rust colored rock.
Lie, tell them it's a meteorite.
How they should have seen it
in it's prime.
During those meantimes
when I sought tornadoes
to jab my fingers into their whirls,
I'd lean into their chaos.
Maybe...
#gratitude
#redemption
587 reads
31 Comments
Putting You Away
The last tide of the day is going out
I guess it's a good time for our goodbye
even though you left hours ago
I waited, to watch the ocean follow you.
I knew, you had that kind of power
even if you didn't
Because you were looking away.
I walk the bartering line
where the waves recede from the sand
as several grains go with it
Thousands really, but who notices
from the millions left behind
Like my thoughts of you, like the love
that follows you
Maybe it will keep you safe.
I could never wish anything
but the...
I guess it's a good time for our goodbye
even though you left hours ago
I waited, to watch the ocean follow you.
I knew, you had that kind of power
even if you didn't
Because you were looking away.
I walk the bartering line
where the waves recede from the sand
as several grains go with it
Thousands really, but who notices
from the millions left behind
Like my thoughts of you, like the love
that follows you
Maybe it will keep you safe.
I could never wish anything
but the...
#loneliness
#bittersweet
685 reads
22 Comments
Grey Woman
She sips ten dollar wine,
orange-red, with it's quiet fire,
from a forty dollar goblet.
One never soaped, just rinsed
and sat over the sink.
Too soon again, cold will force her
to come drink.
Her gown is old.
Frail cotton seams have began
their outward spiral.
There's a rip, over a thigh, where
she caught the corner
of the great oak table.
From running circles
around a mad lover-man.
As she was laughing,
eyes wildly flashing brilliance,
knowing the inner workings of a man,
as her...
orange-red, with it's quiet fire,
from a forty dollar goblet.
One never soaped, just rinsed
and sat over the sink.
Too soon again, cold will force her
to come drink.
Her gown is old.
Frail cotton seams have began
their outward spiral.
There's a rip, over a thigh, where
she caught the corner
of the great oak table.
From running circles
around a mad lover-man.
As she was laughing,
eyes wildly flashing brilliance,
knowing the inner workings of a man,
as her...
#regret
#loneliness
778 reads
23 Comments
Life During Candles
Our life during the life of a candle;
I never meant for it
to be as a time keeper.
A subtle way of telling us
it's time to go, once it burns low.
Our heroics, as lovers, over
as I melt inside you.
And as the flame pushes itself down,
discarding the wax aside
into the sudden past.
Becoming another hardened memory,
as we soften our stances
of what we are
after these 'what we just were'.
The candles are always intended
the way I've used them.
Each, just as much a doorway
as it was a key.
To the real...
I never meant for it
to be as a time keeper.
A subtle way of telling us
it's time to go, once it burns low.
Our heroics, as lovers, over
as I melt inside you.
And as the flame pushes itself down,
discarding the wax aside
into the sudden past.
Becoming another hardened memory,
as we soften our stances
of what we are
after these 'what we just were'.
The candles are always intended
the way I've used them.
Each, just as much a doorway
as it was a key.
To the real...
#frustration
#bittersweet
950 reads
31 Comments
About This
So you've picked a poet.
For that, I will lift words
from your skin.
The ones never read,
so thoroughly.
I will place them
upon pages
again and again.
I will call them love poems.
And someday
when we are old
and our eyes fade,
like the memories sometimes do,
you can pull that book down.
Ask me, then, if I remember the words.
I will say how could I have forgotten them.
They are all still standing
in front of me.
Not one word, has ever left.
That book...
For that, I will lift words
from your skin.
The ones never read,
so thoroughly.
I will place them
upon pages
again and again.
I will call them love poems.
And someday
when we are old
and our eyes fade,
like the memories sometimes do,
you can pull that book down.
Ask me, then, if I remember the words.
I will say how could I have forgotten them.
They are all still standing
in front of me.
Not one word, has ever left.
That book...
#happiness
#inspirational
812 reads
29 Comments
Red Peignoir/ Collab with KristinaX
A red peignoir is a summoning torch
I unweave the petals of the brightest roses
Lace from the passion of scarlet drops
A flowing heart, with it's ripe vines.
I get drunk on you watching me,
as I toast to your presence.
My lips summon the wine glass
and I stare into the weakened blood of it
swarming to my mouth.
The web pangs it's melancholy tune
Haunting desires stalking a troubled mind
Weaving strands of your essence on my lips
Consuming them, playing them...
Like a tune best forgotten, if I could.
But...
I unweave the petals of the brightest roses
Lace from the passion of scarlet drops
A flowing heart, with it's ripe vines.
I get drunk on you watching me,
as I toast to your presence.
My lips summon the wine glass
and I stare into the weakened blood of it
swarming to my mouth.
The web pangs it's melancholy tune
Haunting desires stalking a troubled mind
Weaving strands of your essence on my lips
Consuming them, playing them...
Like a tune best forgotten, if I could.
But...
#WritingPoetry
#PowerOfWords
477 reads
14 Comments
When You're Small

#dark
#confusion
#denial
570 reads
39 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Styxian