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  • lemony 66w

    embers

    the passion that filled his heart
    glowed hot,
    like a museum of red embers
    undying in the night.

    ©lemony

  • lemony 66w

    untitled

    two boys holding hands.
    spread across the bed,
    the picture of teen love.
    they both wear smiles,
    their youthful eyes glinting in the
    golden summer sun.

    in storms a man,
    one of their fathers.
    ignorant of their love, their happiness,
    he sees only their genders.
    he sees them as abominations,
    worthy of hell's fiery gates.

    he yells at the boys,
    calling them all sorts of names,
    each word paired with
    the scent of whiskey.

    tears streak down the son's face,
    and his lover watches in worry.
    the father smacks his son,
    leaving a red welt on his cheek.
    the tears come harder and faster,
    like salty waterfalls.

    the father staggers out of their room,
    slamming the door behind him.

    "shhh," the lover coos,
    "I've got you."
    he continues to rub up and down
    the son's back,
    as if he's not terrified of being outed.
    he places a gentle kiss on the son's cheek,
    checking the welt the father had left.

    ~~~

    the world is a warzone for love like ours,
    and we have to wonder if each word
    will be a bullet whizzing by.
    it hurts,
    not being able to hold the hand of the man you love in public,
    knowing that the world may not have room for love like ours.
    and so we keep it in private,
    hoping others don't stumble in,
    discovering our fatal secret.

  • lemony 67w

    I return! Vacation was a much needed escape, and the sights I've seen will definitely fuel some of my writing! #diamante #sun #moon

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    diamante

    sun
    candescent, warm
    rising, burning, beaming
    giver of light, bringer of dark
    casting, showing, bathing
    milky, mysterious
    moon

    ©lemony

  • lemony 67w

    I'll be on vacation for the weekend, so I don't think I'll be able to post for the next few days! Don't worry, I'm not dead! �� #rain #pod

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    the water pools with falling rain,
    the shower's Mother Nature's drain.
    filling the lakes, pools, and mains,
    'til the cycle starts again.

    ©lemony

  • lemony 67w

    I wanted my lungs to fuel the songs,
    I wanted my vocal cords to start them.
    I wanted my hands to play the notes,
    I wanted my ears to listen to them.
    instead, the music fell flat,
    hindered and stuck, unflowing.

    ©lemony

  • lemony 67w

    chains

    the words you drilled into my mind,
    the stories, the prophecies.
    each mantra you made me repeat,
    the prayers I recited.
    they were a trap,
    ensnaring my young, pliable mind,
    molding it into the shape you wanted.
    the verses kept my will subdued,
    kept my true self from blooming.
    the book you forced me to read
    was a great hindrance to my true self.
    I couldn't blossom,
    I couldn't love myself,
    I couldn't accept who I was,
    I couldn't live.
    the words of the prophets kept me bound in a spiral of depression.
    the sermons were chains,
    keeping me strapped to my pew in fear.
    it all made me feel like I wasn't right,
    that I was broken.

    soon, I picked myself up.
    I learned that your words were
    fallacies,
    and I put myself back together.

    ©lemony

  • lemony 67w

    a cosmic gift

    your blood and bones and skin,
    they're made of stardust.
    when the universe came into existence
    so long ago,
    you were part of that explosion.
    you were a byproduct,
    a creation alongside as the universe itself.
    your molecules were built by stars,
    your body was concieved by the universe.
    your body is a cosmic gift,
    you see,
    a present to you from the stars and planets.

    ©lemony

  • lemony 68w

    echoes

    the call of a crow echoes,
    while cicadas sing their summer songs,
    not even ceasing in the thick, foggy night.
    the air is damp and thick, sticking ro everything.
    the trees sway with a gentle breeze,
    the leaves rustling as a chorus.
    a thick haze obscures almost everything,
    coating it in a fuzzy, thick gray.
    the inky night is still and eerie.

    ©lemony

  • lemony 68w

    the hardest thing is being awaken
    but having to pretend
    because it's easier than living the truth.

    ©lemony, 2018

  • lemony 68w

    atlanta

    the buildings loom over us
    like big metal gods
    determined to watch and guide us.
    the roads are like spaghetti,
    twisting every which-a-way,
    and the traffic:
    it's worse congestion than an infection.
    and dad is stressed,
    he hates driving through the tangled roads,
    which makes this visit a rare treat.

    the city is stressful, sure,
    the buildings and roads are practically stuffed with anxiety.
    but underneath it all is
    a sense of beauty,
    of sophistication.

    as the avant-garde music of the local college thums into my skull,
    and I get lost in the hypnotically random rhythms,
    I feel a sense of adventure.
    as if I've left my old world behind
    an stepped into a new one altogether

    ©lemony