Happy Birthday Heather, from all of us we love you and wish you the best.
I love you, whore. By Never Fall In Love
Lady, don't do this.
Pitter-patters of genuineness
drips of your fingers
and falls into surrounding
existences
[or perhaps the ones really far away]
You've set rules and regulations;
delicately crafting memories so that
pages of unwritten expressions
need not be preserved in shoe boxes.
Sometimes,
I almost wish morbidity would last longer,
extending any ability of shunning sentiments
that scare my soul into seclusion,
but she makes that impossible.
We retreat to our hidden pockets
where cherished coins are strewn,
scattered amongst idolized asylum-mates.
I have a case of attachment;
addicted to adamant acquaintances
who claim that their presence
is not important.
[I've not heard better bullshit]
We'll paper-maché our souls together
and paint the world in orange;
erasing the definition of complication
from our dictionary
Because you're worth it all
and more.
Irreplaceable by Markgrif
She announces an aura
With atypical arrows
Pointing out excellence
(Though she might contend with that)
Adherent to her acquaintance
I clamor for her clarity
Within cardinal moments
Of verses imminent
(For you see I love her verbiage)
And wish to be accented
Even further by her sight
Active in everyday life
(It's a shame distance prevents that)
For she appears aerial
By all accounted exchanges
(Even when telling me off)
My Birthday Present for Heather by eine geist
Liquid sunshine concentrate
in a tiny green bottle,
I sacrifice to you ...
No rainbow bright wax
with twenty flamed wicks,
nor mysteriously wrapped
packages in taut cellophane
ribbon or bow,
but a wish or a hope
kindly cradled
in friendly,
semi-opaqued love.
When the rays of life
dwell in night's desire
and you find you need
a light,
may you think to use this token,
a gift from me to you-
a little sunshine to illuminate
the dark crevices of your path.
To Heather by xBlackRainbowCharx
The way the vocab drips from your subtle fingers
amazes the wonders of my pondering mind
as I try so desperately to find the expedition
where I can foresee the next empowering piece;
Your rules hard to contemplate but all the same
it's a fair game situation when we groan
because your crafty unfair tasks are so damn hard
but none the less there fun to play.
I inspire from the fact that even when I love my piece
you somehow find something that needs improving
or is just so simply wrong for your taste buds,
but then who said was perfection was in the writers hand.
We've laughed a few when you've shared honest advice
that I have taken and implanted within my mind,
and the typing that pitter patters from your fingers
entices my mind with a new found vocab
[not so dumb am I now]
and yet I see beauty within the darkness of pieces
that you somehow manage to pour onto the page
when mine remains blank and unstained;
Really how did you learn to be like that?
But you know we luffles you anyway's
even if the tasks are sharp like the point of a needle,
you always manage to get me thinking
and that takes a lot and your worth it all.
To My Heathen of Perpetual Darkness by CriMsoN iCe
Silvery stranded solidity;
dreams' weaver of textured esteem
glistening beyond calamity's shuffle,
a flame, searing the edges of frailty -
~she radiates~
A slow chemical embrace
to shape individuality's beat
these words, her fire;
consuming the bridges
of implausibility.
Distance; merely an inch
compared to the comforting graces,
found beneath beauty's dark wings -
submersed in tenacious design...
she carries the weight of conscience
in empathy laden streaks of truth;
worth untamed by these coursing winds -
burning brilliance even still
beyond paled ribbons of descension.
Untitled by M a r l u x i a
Cryptic inscriptions like
masochistic lullabies singing softly
underneath the willow trees -
bright lights, coating toxic film
wedged in between the blinds
everyone watches
as her repeated séance
masters reliable imagination spurs
[Credit]
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