angel syndrome's picture

☆==

Honeycomb sweetness dripping from bee-stung lips ; the sensuality of your proximity ; your finger in my mouth ; cider-built rêveries.

Your oneness, all-encompassing
My self, imaginary.

angel syndrome's picture

☆==

sew my body to the night-time,
lacerations and smoke coiling the open wounds.

but i am unwell and
pill-time makes me beautiful.

angel syndrome's picture

==★ (world sick)

I feel very 'world-sick' today and unbeautiful
And upset about...
the way that our society is and i wish that we could just stop it all
and fucking "pop culture" and "death culture"

i hate the fact that we only get one lifestyle shown to us in the media
and one kind of body to be seen as beautiful
i hate how everything is so controlled by money
i hate how almost every human interaction and longing has been monetized
even platonic friendship has been ruined by facebook and such

i hate that we base our cultural identity on consumer products

angel syndrome's picture

(today)

I liked this lazy sunday, half-spent between bedsheets,
the other gazing sluggishly at the sky,
more than anything in an awful while.

I liked that cider, those soft kisses,
the quiet music, the joy in discovery.
Thank-you very much.

angel syndrome's picture

☆==

Cacographic exegesis bearing three words :
First, "I" ; Last "you".
The second, too difficult to decipher.

angel syndrome's picture

☆==

the truth about march :

abandoning frozen soil for
broken grass and dirty boots,

backlit dust, new infatuation.

a new promise for the boy who always says goodbye
but never quite knows how to leave.

angel syndrome's picture

==★

i am feeling better i think but
feeling at all is difficult for
everyone i think.

i am just uneasy and i just want calm,
i am just so tired yet sleepless

'i love you' is such a complicated phrase.
because nothing before it counts.
knowing that the last person you said it to
said it to someone else
is painful.

i mean i have shared feelings and experiences with people since
i've been in bed with other men and felt close to other men
and felt compassion and intimacy and empathy
and had beautiful moments

angel syndrome's picture

☆==

You couldn't believe how still I could lie,
Mooning over the sea and its salty breeze.

"Hold me, again!", I fumbled,
My friend the rose smiles,
"But I am filled with thorns, and
you have your own hand, now."

angel syndrome's picture

☆==

imagine me,
for without the fable of every eyelash,
every tear, i cannot exist.

(mon amie la rose me dit que je suis intelligent, sensible et rare
je lui répond "merci")

angel syndrome's picture

☆==

"Oh, nothing really,

you,
me,
secrets,

you know how i can be"

angel syndrome's picture

☆==

Come one and all,
and you'll find :

The frozen faunlet, the snake-boy,
A floraphile, a marble statue.

And if you're observant, you'll find
a quiet boy, sitting on his own
staring back out at you.

angel syndrome's picture

==✩

"Et moi?"

"On le sent, chez toi,
tu n'es pas içi par plaisir d'éjaculer,
Mais simplement car tu cherche l'excuse
de toucher l'autre.

Ton incertitude te rend parfait,
une statue de marbre mi-ruinée.
Que je suis chanceux."

angel syndrome's picture

==✩

Hobbies : looking like a tired virgin,
pleasing daddy.

Interests : Kahlo,
Klimt, Kafka.

angel syndrome's picture

==✩

The algorithm of my being dictates a gravel-fill heart,
the bitterness of lime pith.

Sipping raspberry lemonade, tasting non-existant lips.

"What if it never gets better?", they asked.
"Make believe."

angel syndrome's picture

(today)

(today is a very bittersweet and lonely day for me. a year ago, my ex and i started dating - safe to say, he's been a huge impact on my life since then. i can't forgive him, i can't forget what he did. we had this great big love affair, and it was the first time i truly felt real, genuine love. it didn't work out, but somewhere in the middle, we tried. we tried so fucking hard.

because the truth is, i hate the way i am, too. but he gave up on me.
so i'm sailing the high seas alone.)

Syndicate content