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Nobody Has To KnowDo it, do it, do it
You know you want it
Come on, nobody has to know
Nobody has to know...
Do it where you want it
But I cant, it's noticeable.
You know I don't like being yelled at.
Then do it, and we wont yell
Okay, Okay. I'll do it.
Just don't yell at me.
That a girl
Nobody has to know..
TheftThe more I get to know you
The more I tell you about me,
The more it seems like I'm losing myself,
because you're stealing my identity.
Deja Deja DejabuseI hate how the one person
I can tell everything to
Is the one abusing me.
I wish I could tell someone about it
But like I said
I can't because the one person
I could trust with this information
Is the person doing this to me.
HeartbeatWhen I hold my breath
I can hear my heart beating.
It's a soothing sound.
I could almost fall asleep to it.
I cant though.
Because if I fall asleep
While holding my breath,
There wont be a beat
To wake up to.
ThinkingIt's in the moments
That I'm all alone,
That I think of others
and wonder if they're
Thinking of me.
A Week Of KissesA Week Of Kisses
The first day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your shoulder,
Well before I thought about your lips.
Because I don’t know what I am doing, firstly,
But more importantly,
It’s because I know things can spiral quickly,
If things start shifting
After we lay down the concrete.
So I kiss the foundation,
Before we reach the soil.
The second day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your elbow,
Because it holds together the touch
And the flex.
To exhibit it,
I must kiss the joint that bends
And combines us together.
The third day I told you I loved you,
I lay my lips to your temples,
As I learned about the temple of reform,
For the Youth in North America.
Kissing you there signifying I will protect you,
As well as your temple,
As we re-form, into something more.
The fourth day I told you I loved you,
I’d kiss you softly on your forehead.
Because that’s what holds your brillian
Stranger LoveI am not the sunlit wing-print
splayed out on the bedroom wall.
I am not the dark mass forming
in a corner of an airless hall.
I am not the viscous vengeance
where you sink your spinning wheels.
I am not the leaky bucket
hung up on your wishing well.
You are not my soul mate missing
wandering a winter's night.
You are not the sound of angels
singing by a candle's light.
You are not the rasp of fingers
fumbling with a hasp of steel.
You are not the tattered towel
soaking up the things I feel.
I am the oblivious child,
dancing where the wildflowers are.
You are my unwitting captive
lighting up a jelly jar.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More