LuciaDeMure
Profile
Hey, I’m LDeM. I’m 18, and I live in England.
For as long as I can remember I’ve always written creativley in some form or another; stories, poems, plays, whatever. But I’ve picked up poetry again as a means of distracting myself from doing self-destructive things.
Which would explain the morbidity of some of my poetry.
But anywhooo…. I hope you enjoy!
Writing
Cinnamon
So I can remember. / And lose myself in / my head. My head; / my mind. At loss / and in pieces. / At peace. To feel the warmth. / To hear you laugh. / To see myself
Je suis la Reine
Does it not hurt to walk on blades? Does it not hurt? / She can feel. / The cold seems human, holding her in a loose embrace, its breath misting her hair a crimson swirl…
Blunt
The softness calls / There are voices in / the thin night. Chemical smiles / and metallic skin. / What a taste we are.
Fuse
In the dusted over mirror / She is a static blur. / My darling, I cannot see / In the dusted over mirror / She is a static blur. / My darling, I cannot see
Feel
You are / lit - / shadowed - / the sunlight wakes / upon a curve, / a dip, / a slight flutter.
Midnight
On her back, the ceiling lost in the dark. The cold fingers of the breeze find their way through the slats in the blinds. Caress her. She cannot hold herself. / The bed warm beneath her.
