Sick is the one who Adored Me…

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New writing.  I know its been a while. This may become subject to re-writes.  I’m realizing sometimes, I have a tendency to write pieces when I have no other avenue to express something.  Which is okay, its getting channeled somewhere right?

Spooky Regards,

Bone Mother Belleen

 

Sick is the one who Adored Me 05/14/2018

Sick is the one who adored me,

when the aesthetic fit.

And when the sleeve fit,

I was adored,

I was loved,

I was simply owned.

 

Sick is the one who treasured me,

When it was appropriate,

When I was deemed worthy,

When the punishment fit the crime,

 

Sick was the one who adored me,

Sick was the one who loved me,

Sick was the one who broke me,

Sick was the one who forsaked me,

 

Sick was the one who adored me,

when the aesthetic fit,

When I no longer fit,

he chose to adore her.

 

©2018 T.B. Morte 

 

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LUST-BOUND

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More new writing! Many cauldrons boiling.  Feedback welcomed.

Pax,

Belleen

 

Lust-Bound  03/19/2018

The vassals of lust,

holds my heart its hostage,

My knees made weak,

By the sounds of his voice,

My body reacts,

To the tones of his moans,

As much as I refuse,

this lust cannot be slaked,

Therefore I am doomed,

I am now passions prisoner,

Subject to an unknown fate,

Meanwhile I regale in the beauty,

the beauty of his violence.

 

©2018 T.B. Morte 

 

ENDLESS

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New writing.  New direction for me.  Feedback welcomed.

 

Spooky Regards,

Bone Mother Belle

 

ENDLESS 03/18/2018

If you were to ask me,

how I felt about thee,

I could not give one answer,

But I would give many,

My feelings for you are bottomless,

it depths like oceans,

My passion for you,

scorches the dry earth in flames,

A bountiful cornucopia of emotions,

All about you,

At the edges of the world,

I will wait to catch you,

When your soul is torn asunder,

I will love thee,

When you fall to your knees,

by the burdens you carry,

I will love thee,

When you take your last breath,

upon my kiss,

I will love thee,

So you will know in the end,

even in death I loved thee.

© 2018 T.B. Morte 

 

“YOUR BEAUTIFUL TRAGEDY”

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It’s been a long while I know.  Word webs have slowly been forming.  Thank you for your incredible patience.  “Tragedienne” isn’t dead just have taken several “pit stops” on an unexpected journey. 🙂

Hope you enjoy!

Spooky Regards,

Bone Mother Belle ❤

 

YOUR BEAUTIFUL TRAGEDY 03/07/2018

I am your beautiful tragedy,

To be played over and over,

The song that seems unending,

A horror that grows,

This is our  nightmare,

Your doing,

Is my undoing,

 

Look deeply into the darkness,

Feel the sorrow in your heart,

Listen to the requiem,

The song of your beautiful tragedy,

Look at what you have done to me,

Do you see the monster that you have made?

Are you now afraid?

To end the song,

Of your beautiful tragedy?

©2018  T.B. Morte 

SLEEPLESS…..

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Sometimes you think you meet “The One” and you find out they are simply not part of the dream. As always feedback appreciated.

 

Spooky Regards,

~B~.

Sleepless 10/11/2017

Get thee to sleep,
Close thine eyes in the knowing,
You have lost something,
That others have fought to grab,
There for the taking,
Yet you squandered,
Foolish beyond measure,
No tears to be shed,
There is still solace to be found,
Places elsewhere hold comfort,
Yet the brightest treasure shines,
Even in the darkest depths,
There it will remain locked in place,
Only opened to whoever holds the rightful key,
Get thee to sleep,
Close thine eyes and dream,
In knowing you will still have to seek,
For the treasure will only open to those that wear the crown,
and you are not the King.

©2017 T.B. Morte aka Neylinn Foa-Vulpes

 

HEART IN A JAR

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Rest in pieces. ❤ Belleen

 

Heart In A Jar 09/27/2017

You killed me,

over and over,

Left me to die,

 

Or so you thought,

Was that your last wish?

To see me break?

How the mighty hath fallen,

Into the traps of emotion,

I loved you,

You loved me,

I hate thee,

You loathe me,

This game I cease to play,

To Whom It May Concern,

Know this for now and ever more,

This is my conscious no longer caged in bondage,

This is my spirit free from love’s torment,

You see before you what lies in the glass jar,

my ever beating heart.

©2017 T.B. Morte

 

 

 

 

 

 

YOUR DARK DOLLY

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A toast good populace! Cheers to Tragedienne may she one day find the dark solitude of happiness.  She so rightfully deserves.

 

YOUR DARK DOLLY

Admit to me my master,

Who’s your darkest dolly?

You need not to say it to others,

you need not to say it out loud,

I’m your dark dolly,

I do what the others cannot,

you know I go that extra mile,

I give it my all,

When the whip strikes flesh,

You know I squeal in pleasure,

And give it my best,

So I apologize to you Master,

Please excuse my mess,

But the other dollies had to go,

So I made them say goodbye,

And I now I have these piles of bodies,

Your dolly just now wants to cry,

We’re all alone now Master,

Don’t you see?

It’s just you and me,

And there’s no one else around,

To make three.

© T.B. Morte 2017

 

 

 

ONLY YOU

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The “Bone Mother” is returning. Slowly. Letting the bindings unwrap themselves. Enjoy.

 

ONLY YOU 09/17/2017

You.

That’s right.

You.

Not me.

Not us.

There was never us.

You said loved me,

All my wild evil,

My imperfections,

I was the perfect flower,

In your imperfect world,

Is that what you tell all the flowers?

That are not good enough,

It never is,

Nor was it ever was,

The mask has been lifted,

I see with perfect clarity,

But do you see?

What you have done to me?

Confirmed what was already known,

So thanks to you,

And your ilk,

These walls will be built stronger,

Impenetrable,

My heart encased in the strongest glass,

So my thanks,

My gratitude you have,

But you shall pay a cost,

Nothing is ever free,

You pay a high cost,

Your cost was forever  losing me.

©2017 T.B.Morte

 

 

 

The Entreating Chronicles#1 “THE QUIBBLE QUASMS OF BELLE MORTE”

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Greetings fellow spooks & ghouls.  Some random short pieces I decided to put together as possible ongoing compilation of “shorties” its a new year.  Time for a new outlook.  Enjoy the following tidbits.  As always feedback appreciated.

Pax,

Bone Mother Belleen ❤

 

I.

“Forgiveness. The scale you measure of the hurtful act that was done to be measured against the something that you love. There was a moment of falter, a cut so deep the impenetrable became the penetrated. The emotion of true sorrow felt so fluid embedded into entire psyche. If you love something you must love its evil as well as it’s innocence. To love only one part, one cannot love truly. You must accept the wiles,observe the hurt and measure the scale consciously. Forgiveness and love you must embrace to the bitterest of ends” ~T. B. Morte  © 2017~

 

II.

“What is black? A color so deep and engulfing it swallows light whole. Born from the shadows, nothing can be seen inside it. So black are the hearts of the fallen the weak are unable to fathom loving them. So dark were the souls of the broken the brave could not help but love them against all odds.”~ T.B. Morte © 2017 ~

 

III.

“Love your Hero, and love them well. For they have the spirit of giants and the bravery of fools. They will love what they endear so brutally, they will avenge any slight against them at all costs. They will carry you upon a broken back, they will be your shield, they will be your iron cladded will and word. But if you were to mock the love the Hero gives, you have foolisheartedly committed a most heinous act. You have broken their spirit. The hero then can no longer sing with shine, the song is now tainted, darkness slowly encrypted. The fool must now think of the catastrophe they have unleashed. They have morphed the Hero into a Villain.” ~T.B. Morte © 2017~

Your Suicidal Doll

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A new offering of bones for the garden please enjoy the following selection.  Feedback always appreciated.

 

Spooky regards,

Bone Mother Belle ❤

 

Your Suicidal Doll 05/31/2017

Into the abysmal night she flew,

away from the gossamer webs,

far from the shadows of pale light,

The doll ran far away,

It was all she could do,

To hide the truth,

So that no one could see,

That the doll was falling apart,

Imperfections that could no longer be masked,

Everyone would see the ugly truth,

There would be whispers,

Words that traveled,

A reputation ruined that was held dear,

So into the abysmal night she flew,

To find her oblivion,

No one would care,

No being would grieve,

She will only be remembered,

By the way she so deceived,

And so into the night she flew,

To find a death that was worthy,

The worth of a doll.

© 2017 T.B. Morte