Silver Tongue

This is my poetry.

"There is always time for another last minute": Mirrors edge: This is a poem about a friend.

diaryofadepressedangel:

i-g0-to-seek-a-great-perhaps:

She has a smile of moonlight

that pierce veil and fog

full and true

with jewels for eyes

and hair of dawns light.

sweet and sophisticated

like the sugar in your tea.

she is everything

but once she was nothing

once her eyes were not jewels.

she was bewitched.

cursed

upon a mirrors edge she saw not herself

but a demon.

terrible and persistent.

frail and deathly lonely.

rotting.

it was her.

or so she thought.

and she listened to it.

its whispers

and became as it.

but her heart knew.

but her heart knew.

i am more than this.

and so she looked upon the demon.

and saw it was hollow.

empty and dead.

and all it wanted was to make her like so.

empty of flesh, soul and heart.

this she could not do.

and so she turned from mirrors edge.

and broke the creature.

and so people saw again.

what she was.

 a smile of moonlight

that pierce veil and fog

full and true

with jewels for eyes

and hair of dawns light.

but also a spirit of iron.

and the will of an angel.

yet the kindness of a child. 

she was something beautiful.

made from broken glass.

oh what a mosaic the world had made that day.

(via i-g0-to-seek-a-great-perhaps)

Dead:

i-g0-to-seek-a-great-perhaps:

Don’t worry about me.

Don’t chase me.

Don’t call my name.

My heart is slowing.

My breath is dying.

I am sinking.

But don’t chase me.

don’t waste your breath.

Screaming my name.

I cannot hear you.

I don’t want to.

let me go.

let me go.

I am no more.

I am broken.

Let me go.

Dust down yourself.

spit on my cold corpse.

for all i care.

I am gone.

broken.

Dead.

Let me go.

By John Holmes

Stop telling me what I deserve and start listening to what I want. After all, isn’t that what matters? What I or you Want?

—John holmes (via i-g0-to-seek-a-great-perhaps)

Strange, Strange, Strange.

Strange, strange strange,

what is this word?

what is it?

odd, different?

weird? wrong?

normal?

what is it?

frizzy hair and cracked lips?

cackling and screaming?

intelligence?

eccentric dancing Victorians?

what is strange my friend but you and me?

just look in the mirror

your eyes, 

so strange from mine.

you’re weird.

different.

wrong.

listen to your laugh, so strange from mine.

you’re weird.

wrong.

different.

does it hurt?

look at yourself

listen to yourself.

do you understand now?

strange doesn’t exist. 

only different. 

and different is good.

Even if i were to silence my lips, even if silence fell and all i could hear was the workings of the universe itself; It would not do your beauty justice

—John Holmes

I am:

I am light.

i am a sun at my core

i am heaven and i am hell

thunder and lightning

I am brief and terrible.

bright and beautiful

eternal and unending.

i am right and wrong.

I am an infection.

a terrible destructive condition.

I will drive you to the ends of your insanity.

I will push you beyond your chosen destination.

I will tear down dreams.

For I am Love.

and i am terrible and unending.

I am Love.

for i am brilliant and beautiful.

I am Love.

For I am the smile on your face.

and the one who is holding your hand.

and when you walk the dreams.

and into the dark.

I am Love.

and I am in your heart.

I’ve got you.

By John Holmes