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The Face At The DoorThe face at the door is a demon, a god
He smiles through stitches, his stare rather odd
The face at the door is a cruel, silent being
Yet, people are calm, and the children aren't fleeing
Quiet yourself, for you're the only one
Crying for help at the point of a gun
Learn how to fly, rather, learn how to fall,
The face at the door... well... there's no face at all.
01. train tracks as it often does, an ego creates a universe of its own.
and my bones hesitate to endure the rattling of my ribcage.
i learned the significance of proximity by lacking it;
seems you have to lose
a whole lot of gusto
before you can convince
to stomach the unwanted.
we were unplanned for.
soft and delicate,
from each other's eye sockets
and flourished into an intangible possibility.
we were a maybe.
not quite there yet, but pretty much so -
enough to make our insides flip
with each other's budding promises.
every shined-brass smile, to us, was golden.
but you were fearful
and i had convictions.
i stuck to my past like hot wax,
and it burned me in places
neither aloe nor poetry
so now, i have invisible battle scars
that still fester under my skin.
and you, you are swaying in your Michigan wind,
hearing the hum of memories from time to time
but not saying a thing.
your spinal cord, taut and crooked,
the bones splintering your confidence.
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More